What Makes Us Girls

by Brittany Pettibone

  A group of three girls who attended this public school detested me. For the first few months of college, they stalked me whenever I was out and about the town, yet refrained from confronting me face-to-face. Instead, they patrolled the streets in their car, windows rolled down, shouting out comments to me like “whore” and “bitch.” I was confused. I didn’t know where the girls’ hatred came from, for I’d never spoken to, much less met, any of them before. It wasn’t until a few months later that I learned the reason for their bullying.

  Ever since I was little, my family has been close with another family that has extremely beautiful daughters and extremely handsome sons. One of the sons, Sebastian, reconnected with me when I arrived back in town for college. We quickly became good friends, often walking around town together and talking.

  As it turned out, one of the three girls who hated me had a huge crush on Sebastian. She’d seen us walking together a few times and had feared we were dating. This is why, as soon as she discovered that I wasn’t interested in Sebastian in a romantic way, the threat I posed to her vanished. The insults stopped. Even crazier, the girls started talking to me. I remember them pulling up to me in their car one afternoon as I was walking to the local supermarket.

  “Cute boots,” one of the girls said.

  I was a bit skeptical, but still responded, “Thanks.”

  “Where’d you get them?” Another girl asked.

  “At a mall back in California.”

  “You have nice style.”

  And then the girls sped off, car tires kicking up snow and slush. I never heard from any of them again. What a bizarre experience.

  From Victim to Victor

  As demonstrated in my story about cyberbullying, I think one of the most helpful methods to overcome verbal attacks is through establishing a support network. Family. Friends. Even a school counselor, therapist or priest. Perhaps some of us are hesitant to confide, while others are closed to the idea. But in my experience, isolation is the absolute worst response to bullying. In detaching ourselves from family and friends, we become easy prey.

  I like to consider myself a relatively laid-back person. I don’t often cry—I try to never do so in public. Over the past ten years, I’ve cried about eight times, and all but two of those times occurred within the past two years.

  The worst of these instances occurred during the first six months of my political activism. I’d failed to give myself a break or a proper night’s sleep since I started. Day after day, the stress from being constantly terrorized had built up to the point where my mental and emotional state was corroding, like a sheet of metal left out in the rain.

  I remember my twin sister holding my hand as, for the first time in my life, I suffered a panic attack. Crying. Shortness of breath. Sweating. It was as if my skin had become as heavy as stone and was folding in on me, crushing my chest and lungs. I truly thought I was having a heart attack. Worst of all was the complete numbness that spread through my hands and face. I felt paralyzed. Anyone who has ever suffered a panic attack will agree that it’s a terrifying experience. For me, it was an “out-of-body episode,” like watching myself from somewhere else in the room. I’ve never felt so weak and helpless.

  Up to this point, I’d trained myself to be capable of overcoming a lot, but I couldn’t do it on my own this time. I needed my mother and twin sister to care for me—to talk to me, to encourage me, sometimes to just sit in comforting silence with me.

  Most of us will need similar support every now and again and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Showing vulnerability to our loved ones is natural. Moreover, allowing ourselves to be vulnerable deepens our relationships and strengthens our bonds. Telling our loved ones we don’t need their help is equivalent to telling them we don’t need them—that we don’t value their support. Not to mention, it’s not as if loved ones regard helping as a chore. They want to be there for us and are simply waiting for us to ask.

  The question of showing vulnerability to the world, on the other hand, is entirely different. Perhaps doing so might work for some of us. Unfortunately, I can rarely afford to do so. I have too many opponents, circling me like wolves, waiting to take me down at the first sign of weakness.

  The best option in this case is to treat our aggressors with indifference. Even if their words hurt us, we should pretend not to care one way or the other. We should appear neutral on the matter. The reason this approach often works is because our aggressors are seeking a reaction. Their ultimate goal is to get a rise out of us. Without winning a reaction of anger or sadness, they lose out on the satisfaction of a follow through, which eventually might cause them to grow bored, perhaps even leave us alone.

  A few other good options are to react with kindness or humor. In the case of kindness, if we are sincere, it might push our aggressors to experience remorse and reevaluate their behavior. In the case of humor, if we conceal our vulnerability and reject the bait that our aggressors so desperately want us to take, we’ll maintain our position of power.

  The mainstream media writes hit pieces about me on a regular basis. But a certain hit piece written by a British newspaper a few months ago takes the cake. The hit piece referred to me in a degrading manner, calling me a “Barbie Fiancée.” Worse, it outright accused me of committing crimes such as attempting to drown innocent people in the Mediterranean. You can imagine how shocked I was as I read the article, for I’ve never once advocated for violence in my life. On the contrary, I’ve only ever advocated for peaceful political activism. Not to mention, if I’d truly committed the crimes that the hit piece accused me of, I wouldn’t be writing this book right now—I’d be sitting in a jail cell.

  Obviously, I couldn’t afford to ignore the hit piece. But since suing the mainstream media is very expensive and rarely successful, I decided that the best course of action was to respond with humor. I made a video in which I became the Barbie Fiancée they’d accused me of being, acting like an airheaded ditz while debunking all of their salacious claims. Naturally, the video made the British newspaper look stupid, but more importantly, the vast majority of people who viewed the video took my side. While reacting with humor doesn’t always work out the way we want it to, depending on the situation, it can be an extremely useful tool when it comes to combating our aggressors.

  Why You Don’t Want the Bully to Be You

  One of the most important people in the world to me, a girl named Daisy, used to share an apartment with a roommate. One night, Daisy told her roommate she was going on a date with her boyfriend and that she would probably return home late. However, at the last minute, she decided to stay home because she was feeling sick. The roommate, still thinking Daisy had gone out, invited a few girlfriends over for some wine and all of them got to talking. Soon, the talking turned to gossip. Eventually, the gossip turned to the topic of Daisy.

  “Why does every single guy in town seem to like Daisy?” the roommate complained from where she sat on the sofa. “It’s so annoying.”

  “Yeah, for one thing, she’s way too skinny,” a second girl agreed.

  “I bet you she’s bulimic,” a third girl suggested. “At the very least, she’s anorexic.”

  “It’s really ugly,” the roommate said. “I honestly have no idea what the guys see in her. Plus, I don’t think she’s nearly as nice as she pretends to be.”

  “It’s definitely fake,” the second girl concluded. “I know a bitch in nice-girl-clothing when I see one.”

  Daisy, who had overheard the girls’ conversation from her bedroom, was deeply hurt. She was shocked to hear the real opinions of her friends. Words like this had never been spoken to her face. As the night wore on, eventually the roommate made the humiliating discovery that Daisy had indeed been home all along. Too afraid to apologize in person, she scrawled a note of apology and left it on Daisy’s bedroom door. Despite feeling betrayed, Daisy forgave her roommate. Daisy sensed that the bitter words of those girls had originated from the insecurities that every girl f
eels, not from a place of malice.

  How many of us have caved to our insecurities and bullied other girls at one point or another—whether that girl be a stranger, a friend or even our sister or mother? Granted, it’s sometimes extremely difficult to be nice to certain people, but what helps is reminding ourselves of how being bullied makes us feel—how deeply it bruises our pride and negates our sense of self-worth. Some girls are incredibly sensitive; it takes them years to overcome bullying, and if we’re the ones guilty of bullying them, their pain is our responsibility.

  On that note, we aren’t the only gender affected by bullying. Whether we realize it or not, from a young age, boys also have the capacity to take offense. The reason some of us might overlook this fact is because most boys repel vulnerability. They act unaffected, as if our disparaging words evaporate upon coming into contact with their ears. But this is almost never the case. Cruel words and actions do affect them.

  Consider the types of messages being directed at boys today. In our homes, at our schools, at our workplaces, and even in our entertainment, the dominant culture tells boys that they alone are responsible for all of society’s problems. “Boys are the oppressors and girls are the oppressed,” is the general consensus. The dominant culture tells boys that, due to their gender, they are automatically privileged; that they’ve been oppressing girls for far too long and that the “future is female” now; that their inherent tendency towards masculinity and rowdiness is toxic; that all of them are potential rapists; that, in the case of rape accusations, girls should alwaysbe believed; that boys don’t have a right to due process, and instead, should be tried in the court of public opinion.

  Granted, some boys, young and old, are tyrants. Some are criminals, abusers, rapists and so on. But not all are this way. In fact, most aren’t this way.

  Think about the average boy attending middle school or high school. He’s mainly concerned with friends, video games, sports and his grades—all in all, he’s very normal. But if he’s constantly being beaten down by attacks such as “all boys are toxic,” how is he ever supposed to grow into a man? As the dominant culture continues to label him worthless for deceitful reasons outside his control, his method of coping might turn to resentment and anger. Worse, he might even start to believe the messages being directed at him. “I’m automatically worthless, so what’s the point of trying?”

  A boy who feels this way will generally turn to escapism: increased video gaming, comic books, internet forums and YouTube. And since the dominant culture has made him too uncomfortable to approach real girls, he might even replace us as he gets older with porn or sex robots.

  The fact that boys feel this way growing up is also why we’re now seeing so many “male-only” groups forming: Men’s Rights Activists, Men Going Their Own Way, and so on. Young men are opting out of marriage, of having children, and even of allowing themselves to love—all because they believe women can no longer be trusted. “Sooner or later, every woman will betray us,” they say. “They’ll divorce us, take our children and our money. Women aren’t capable of love; they’re only capable of loving what we can give them.”

  I’ve seen the ugliness of the ever-growing gender divide firsthand. Girls who believe that all young men are oppressors and that sticking up for them is wrong have condemned and ridiculed me. And young men who believe that all girls are manipulative parasites who can’t be trusted have slandered and bullied me. On both fronts, the attacks hurt, but why should I have expected anything different? The overall trust between girls and boys has been decimated.

  Society will reward us for bullying our male counterparts. For blaming and belittling them. For accusing and judging them. But the truth is, if we ever want to return to the days when we had communities full of healthy boys and men, first we’re going to have to return to respecting them in the way that we once did. When I say “respect,” I don’t mean all-out adoration of every random male we come into contact with. I mean respect in the sense that, at the very least, we should give them the benefit of the doubt; we should refrain from painting them as bad simply because they’re male, never mind whether they’ve actually done anything bad. Whether we realize it or not, the majority of girls of all ages want to be loved, while the majority of boys of all ages want to be respected—not just by girls, but by other boys as well.

  If you don’t believe me, try telling your boyfriend, husband, brother or father that you respect him, and when you do so, be specific about the ways in which you respect him. If he doesn’t believe you, he might not produce the desired reaction. But if you try again, and are able to convince him that you’re sincere, his reaction might be unlike anything you’ve seen from him before: he might be happier, kinder and more loving; he might feel more confident and more motivated; and best of all, you will have given him a genuine moment of feeling accepted, appreciated and admired.

  To give another example: Why is it that many young men today think we’re interested in dating them if we simply give them a compliment? Perhaps we didn’t even compliment them in a flirtatious way, but for some reason it makes them think we’re interested. This is because most of them are rarely given compliments by people outside their circle of family, friends and girlfriends. So when an outsider compliments them—especially if the outsider is a girl—the last thing on their mind is that we simply want to be kind.

  I’m not claiming that girls alone are to blame for the state of the gender divide. Some individual girls are responsible and some are not. Some individual boys are responsible and some are not. No gender is fully at fault. In general, it’s the fault of the dominant culture, which is constantly fanning the flames of the war. In the end, it’s going require the efforts of both genders to fix the problem, but for this to happen, one gender has to take the first step. Even if we as individual girls are not part of the problem, we can be part of the solution.

  5

  “An echo has no voice of its own.”

  —Marty Rubin

  How We Fake Ourselves Out

  You’re enjoying a night out at Vicky’s parents’ vacation home, a two-story log cabin tucked away on a forested mountain ridge. Out on the porch, the winter air flushes your face; a fire crackles and blazes in a circle of gray rocks. Huddled close for warmth, wrapped in a blanket, you steal a glance at Vicky, thinking how strange it was to receive an invitation. You haven’t spoken much before tonight. She’s one of the most popular girls at your high school. Another girl named Gemma is there too—pretty, with a pert nose and a carefree vibe. She sits with her boots close to the fire, and every so often, sips from a flask in her purse. You don’t know her well either. All you know is that you’re eager to befriend both girls.

  “You’re going out with Liam now, right?” Vicky asks you. Eyes fixed to her phone, she awaits your response with divided attention.

  A tremor of unease flows through you. Given that you’ve only just started seeing Liam, you don’t want to discuss the relationship.

  “It’s nothing official,” you answer, spearing a marshmallow on the end of a stick and holding it over the fire. “He hasn’t asked me to be his girlfriend yet.”

  “Lucky,” Gemma says, lighting up a cigarette. “Literally the worst mistake you could make is committing to a guy while you’re still young. You should take it easy and have fun for a while—at least until you’re twenty-five.”

  You disagree with Gemma. But before you have a chance to respond, Vicky asks, “Have you guys had sex yet?”

  “Uh….” You pause, surprised and caught off guard. “No…not yet.”

  Were Liam and I supposed to have sex already? you wonder. Up to this point, you had decided to wait to have sex until getting married. Or at the very least, you wanted to wait for the right guy, someone you love.

  Gemma blows a smoke ring at the fire. “Why not? What’s the problem?”

  “Well…you know…” Weighed down by the pressure, you momentarily lose your train of thought. “I guess…I guess it’s because
I don’t love him.”

  Vicky laughs. She still hasn’t looked your way; her face remains tilted towards her phone, a smirk pinching the corner of her mouth. “Who cares about love. Right now, when you’re young, you’re supposed to have sex with as many guys as possible. How else do you expect to have fun and to become sexually confident? Once you’re in a committed relationship or married, then you’re stuck with the same guy forever. Your chance for new experiences is over.”

  You pull your marshmallow out of the fire and set the stick on a nearby table, no longer in the mood to eat. Although your resolve is weakening, you manage a final protest. “Liam and I have only gone on three dates. I barely know him.”

  “Wow.” Gemma rolls her eyes. “Didn’t realize you were such a prude. Three dates, one date…who cares…sex isn’t a big deal.”

  “She’s right,” Vicky agrees. “The only reason there’s a stigma around sex is because of people like you.”

  A flush burns up your face; you avoid eye contact. Despite having different beliefs from Vicky and Gemma, you know there’s nothing wrong with your way of thinking. In fact, you are certain yours are good principles to live by. The problem is that you still want Vicky and Gemma to approve of you. It’s difficult to make friends at school. Plus, if you disagree with them, there’s a chance they might tell other girls at school that you’re a prude. It might become harder to make friends.

  “Liam and I have already had sex,” you suddenly say. “I only pretended that we hadn’t because I thought you girls might be the judgy type.”

  Vicky raises her eyebrows, impressed. She finally puts down her phone. “Get it, girl. That’s a record, even for us.”

  Gemma smiles and flicks her cigarette butt into the fire. “Wow. You’re really not as uptight as I thought you were.”