I remember being in the 4th grade, playing a game of kickball at recess with the rest of my classmates. It was my turn to kick and I could hardly stand still in silent anticipation. I put the full force of my tiny 10 year-old body into the kick of that ball, running as quickly as possible to the base, quietly beaming with pride from my performance. It wasn’t long before one of my classmates called out to me, informing me (and all my friends around me) that I “run like a girl.” It was obvious in his tone that he meant those words as an insult, and in a sudden state of embarrassment, I immediately quit the game and spent the rest of recess watching from the sidelines. What might have seemed like one isolated incident repeated itself again and again throughout my childhood. Suddenly, the word “girl” became synonyms for “weak,” “sensitive,” and most of all, “less than.” Entering into my teenage years, I felt absolutely determined to prove my worth to those around me. Hearing that I “wasn’t like other girls” was the only way I could truly feel affirmed in my identify as a woman. Every girl I saw became competition and I worked
— ANA JOVMIR
tirelessly to maintain a detached, emotionless front to the world. Believe it or not, I quickly learned that pretending to be some coldhearted badass was likely the worst possible way I could’ve handled that situation. However, thankfully growing out of that, it put me in the position where I was forced to look to other women to learn the meaning of true empowerment. I was overjoyed to discover there’s nothing wrong with being emotional, or soft, or caring, and this caused my view of women to instantly change. Where I used to feel overcome by insecurity and competitiveness, I instead felt overwhelmed by a feeling of complete admiration. These days, when I ask my friends how they’d describe me, I’m often told about how gentle my presence is. At one point in time, I would’ve taken that as a sign of weakness— a part of me that would’ve been instantly molded into something more palatable to what my idea of a “strong woman” looked like. But I’m happy to say that I now embrace the gentleness with open arms, and I think this is a great first step. — KATHRYN PAIGE / ATLANTA, GA — LORENA LAVIN / QUITO, ECUADOR