Yesterday my friend Loren said something incredibly kind about me. She called me a “girl’s girl.” Someone that fights to level the girl playing field, and reminding each other that we’re on the same team and we need to look out for each other.
This is Loren and I before Field Day at Camp Throwback. You can’t see it, but the backs of our shirts say “We’re The Tits.” Because we are.
This is a relatively new development in my life as a girl. Only in the past 3-4 years have I been a pro-girl kinda… girl. I mean, I guess I’ve always been a pro-me kinda girl. As in, I wanted the field leveled for my girl-self. I wanted to be treated like I was just as smart and beautiful and strong as every other girl, even when I didn’t always think it myself, and I went after that goal regardless of the consequence or casualty.
There are posts even housed within this blog that seep girl insecurity. Posts that reflect moments where I covered my own self hate and shame with witty jabs at the ones I felt had it better because they were prettier or thinner or more successful. Moments where I threw women under the bus, feigning annoyance at their girl drama and announcing that I was the type of girl who only had guy friends.
Yes, those girls exist, but I was not one of them. I didn’t have guy friends because I understood them and related to them more, I only had guy friends because I was mean to girls. Not outwardly mean, but mentally, in my head, I was mean. I want to say that I had some grand epiphany and went out and bought every girl on the street a Taylor Swift CD, Lena Dunham’s book and then filled their snap cups with praise. It wasn’t that glamourous or selfless. I stopped being a me-girl because being a me-girl was fucking exhausting. The constant worry of failure and jealous was eating me up.
I went to bed every night wondering “why them?” and “why not me?” and “no seriously, why them?” It never occurred to me how much control I had, not only of my own success, but of the success of every woman around me. I didn’t understand why leveling the playing field, for all girls, should even matter to me.
Whoa, Brittany, reel in your Tony Robbins voice. My eyes are glazing over.
If you have spoken to me, you’ve probably heard me say, ad nauseum, three things.
1. Brittany doesn’t share food.
2. “There is no harder, only hard.” –Ash Beckham (Personal hero alert!)
3. “A rising tide raises all ships.”
Number three. A rising tide raises all ships. That is how I live my life. I do better, because you do better. You doing better, makes it that much easier for me to do better. We are not in competition with each other unless we’re both walking down a field carrying an egg on a spoon.
I won’t attack you or your photo on the internet because doing that makes it okay for me to be attacked on the internet. If you allow it for one, you allow it for all, and one day that all may include you, or your daughter, or your best friend.
I buy from women business owners, even if it costs more, because it’s worth more. Their success is worth more. The Dear Kate’s and Marlie Madison’s and Modcloth’s and 424 Degree’s and Freshly Picked’s support my success, so in turn, I support theirs. The result, we’re all even more successful. Compounded success, it’s a thing.
My friend Shauna taught me to buy every book written by a woman we know, women we were previously pitted against for fame and attention. And now I do, I buy every book and place them on my bookshelf proud that it’s growing so full of amazing women brave enough to write them.
We are so afraid to see other girls succeed because we think if they do, there will be no room for us. Bullshit. The only way you will succeed is if the platform for success exists, and the only way it will exist is if it’s needed. Supply and demand. There is success for all girls because all girls are successful. There is room for us all, here. This is basic math.
Your take away from this shouldn’t be that you are not special, the take away should be that we all are. You want to be lifted? Lift someone else up, and then they’ll reach down and help pull you up. That is how being a girl should work.