What Makes Us Girls

by Brittany Pettibone

  Relief hits you, as if a great weight has suddenly lifted off your shoulders. You smile. Acceptance feels good…praise feels even better. The fact that you’ve put on a new face to please the girls bothers you a little, but eventually, you decide it doesn’t matter.

  If you’re a girl who’s found herself in a similar situation, you’re one of many. A lot of us wear more than one face, or at the very least, we’ve worn more than one face in the past. We have a natural ability to read people, situations and environments and to change faces depending on how we believe we’ll best fit in. Of course, it’s not that we deliberately want to be fake, per se, it’s that we have an inexorable desire to be loved and accepted.

  These desires are completely normal, and when kept under control, are nothing to be ashamed of. The danger of these desires comes when we act upon them, becoming insincere chameleons in the process. Moreover, if we’re willing to fundamentally change ourselves for the sake of one person, what’s to say we won’t change for everyone? We’ll end up developing hundreds of different personalities, physical appearances, and sets of beliefs in our effort to succeed. Of course, even then, our attempts will likely fail.

  1st Way We End Up Fake:

  We Know Ourselves But Act Like We Don’t

  One of the major causes of inauthenticity—as illustrated in the story above—is when we know ourselves, but choose to betray our principles in an effort to fit in. We might even be pressured by people to the point of hearing phrases like, “If you don’t agree with me, then you’re a loser,” or “If you don’t agree with me, then you’re a bad person.”

  Naturally, these sorts of statements can shake us. They threaten us with the label of “outcast.” They put tremendous pressure on us to renounce our principles, to surrender our authenticity and to mold ourselves in accordance with the people we wish to be accepted by. These types of situations become even more distressing when we know we’re in the right, not just factually, but ethically as well.

  Doing the right thing is almost never easy. In fact, doing the right thing is oftentimes the loneliest and most difficult option. It’s the unpaved path, shrouded in trees and darkness. In situations such as these, it can sometimes be helpful to take a step back. We should give ourselves a short timeout period, during which we can put our emotions aside and closely examine who we are and what we believe. If, at the end of our deliberation, we decide that we are in the right, we ignore what others think. We battle on.

  If we’re unable to battle on, though—if every now and then we cave to inauthenticity—this doesn’t necessarily make us fake. The major difference between authentic and inauthentic girls is that authentic girls refuse to ever fully surrender to inauthenticity. If they notice themselves stumbling, they regain their balance. They try to correct their mistake.

  For eight years—from age fifteen to twenty-three—I was a part of the writing industry. Back then, I wrote science-fiction and fantasy books for young adults. Most of you are likely already familiar with the young adult genre, for it produced international hits such as The Hunger Games.

  During my spare time, when I wasn’t writing or working a job as a nanny, I attended dozens of writing seminars and conventions hoping to meet and befriend fellow authors. The experience was disheartening to say the least. I quickly came to realize that none of the other authors shared my beliefs—not personal, political or religious. On the contrary, they openly condemned my stance. One thing I can say about the writing industry is that it’s always moving and changing, like a river, always rushing in pursuit of the next politically correct narrative. You won’t find a more sterile and politically correct environment, except perhaps at university. I think it goes without saying that my opinions were not politically correct. So I was forced to keep all of my beliefs hidden or risk being ostracized. I had witnessed this happen to several other authors in the past, and I didn’t want it to happen to me—not only because I knew I might lose my chance at the acceptance I so desperately wanted, but because I knew I might also lose my chance at being published by a traditional publishing house.

  So I chose the coward’s way out: I kept silent. I refrained from sharing my personal, political or religious beliefs in an effort to fit in. I wanted to please the other authors and have them accept me in return. Doing so made me feel the opposite of how I’d anticipated. Instead of feeling joy from acceptance, I felt misery. As time wore on, I experienced an ever-increasing sense of loneliness. I knew I was betraying my principles and felt cheapened in doing so. Even though I wasn’t verbally agreeing with the other authors in conversations, keeping silent was the equivalent of telling them that their views were the right ones.

  Letting go of my desire to be accepted by the writing industry took five long years. What eventually changed my mind, thrusting me back into reality, was when I decided to read all the top books on the New York Times Bestseller’s List.

  You can imagine my surprise when, after checking out the top books from my local library and reading them, I realized that I didn’t like them. In fact, most of them would have fit well in a trash bin. The majority of the authors’ arguments, both thematic and moral, were lacking. It disturbed me that these writers (mostly women) had been given such power to influence the youth, for they glorified themes like verbal and emotional abuse, rejection of authority and female supremacy. Some of them even glorified violence, revenge and murder. Moreover, none of their characters were in line with what I aspired to be—in fact, most of the characters, even the heroes, were in stark conflict with my idea of goodness.

  This was the moment I realized that, if the day ever came when these authors truly accepted me, it would only be because I allowed myself to become one of them. While, even at this point, it remains difficult to fully let go of my desire for acceptance in the writing industry, I know that living out my dream as a sellout would be even more difficult.

  2nd Way We End Up Fake:

  We Don’t Know Ourselves But Act Like We Do

  Another major cause of inauthenticity stems from not knowing ourselves. We aren’t confident in who we are, what we believe and what we hope to accomplish. As a result, we mimic those around us, adopting their personalities, their aspirations, their likes and dislikes, and even their political and religious beliefs. Sometimes, doing so might not bother us in the moment because, in not knowing ourselves, mimicking others doesn’t feel inauthentic. In fact, it might even feel like a discovery of our true selves. But this is rarely the case.

  When we ignore the development of our true selves for the sake of acceptance, sooner or later, even if it’s years down the road, we’ll eventually notice a hole in our souls. We won’t know how to fill the hole, only that it needs to be filled. Not knowing how to fill the hole might cause us to ignore it, and if we do so for too long, we might lose the ability to find our true selves altogether. Our true selves will become nothing more than a distant “what if” from the past that we rejected. In this case, it will be near-impossible for us to ever be happy or to attain fulfillment. Even worse, no one will ever be able to love us for who we truly are. They’ll only be able to love us for who we pretend to be.

  During the first two years of high school, having no idea who I was or what I wanted, I molded myself to fit in with the popular crowd. Within the first few months of my arrival, I was one of the most popular girls in school. For about two years, I continued on this path. I was unhappy, but was unable to connect the dots as to why. My confused state led me to believe that my unhappiness was a result of my parents’ and siblings’ failure to understand me. “There’s no use even trying to explain anything to them,” I told myself. “They aren’t capable of understanding anyway.”

  During the summer following my sophomore year, when my mother had grounded me for three months, I finally found the answers I’d been searching for.

  Initially, being confined to my room for several hours each day was torture. I had no laptop to surf the internet or watch movies, only a small iPod wit
h about one-hundred songs on it. I considered reading, but decided I wasn’t a fan after the first day. While I’d loved reading as a child, and I love it now, the popular crowd hadn’t cared much for reading. In trying to fit in with them, I’d convinced myself that I didn’t like it either.

  My final option was to entertain myself. But since I’d allowed my mind to become a foreign place to me, entertaining myself was easier said than done. Obviously, this is a big red flag. We should never feel like a stranger in our own mind; we should know it inside out and backwards; we should feel some kind of unification with it.

  The first few steps of my transition were jarring and difficult. I had to force myself to reject outside distractions. I had to force myself to endure the silence. But once I succeeded in doing so, I was finally able to hear my own mind. The result was an overwhelming feeling of comfort and relief, like reuniting with an old friend. For the first time since I could remember, I came to enjoy listening, thinking, creating, and so on. And from this, I was able to recognize that my unhappiness hadn’t been caused by my family’s inability to understand me, but as a symptom of inauthenticity.

  For all of us who don’t know ourselves, choosing to spend time alone is generally a good idea. Unburdened by outside influence and expectation, we’ll have a far more peaceful journey of internal exploration and discovery. We’ll have the freedom to try new things and to uncover what we respond to, what we hope to accomplish and what we believe.

  3rd Way We End Up Fake

  We Focus on Beauty (But Not Real Beauty)

  The third major cause of inauthenticity arises when we allow ourselves to believe our true self is worthless. If we can’t see our own value, it’s generally because we believe we’re physically ugly or because our minds and skills are undeveloped. For instance, it’s been scientifically proven that the rational part of our brains doesn’t fully develop until age twenty-five. As for our unique skills, they oftentimes don’t have natural value; they gain value when we work to improve them. So as long as we’re constantly making that effort, we won’t think ourselves worthless. The belief that we’re physically ugly, on the other hand, is a far more difficult battle to overcome.

  I was overweight in high school. Even after losing the excess weight, I continued to grapple with the feeling that I was fat. In an effort to hide my body, I wore baggy pants and sweatshirts until I was nearly twenty.

  Around this time, I also made the mistake of dyeing my hair with henna dye, which destroyed my hair for three years. I’d initially wanted to dye my hair dark brown, but the dye turned it black with a horrific greenish-bluish hue. The beauticians at the hair salon dyed my hair seven different times, trying anything they could to save it, but nothing worked. The only option was to chop my hair off and wait for it to grow out from the roots. I was heartbroken. I’d always loved long dark brown hair, but now I had short black hair. Worse, my complexion was washed out by the black hair, for it’s naturally very pale—so pale that I can’t remain in the sun for more than a few minutes without burning. Everyone at my high school thought I was going through a goth phase and started calling me “the vampire.”

  If I showed you a photo of me from my teenage years beside a photo of me now, you probably wouldn’t believe it’s the same person. In fact, oftentimes when I’ve traveled abroad, the border police have questioned whether the photo on my passport is truly me.

  The point is, I can relate to feeling physically ugly. Much of my younger years were stained with a lack of self-worth that was born from a dislike of my body and face. Coming to terms with our physical appearances can oftentimes be a lifelong battle, even for the prettiest girls, and this is mainly because of the unrealistic standards we’re presented with on a daily basis.

  How many times have you been scrolling through Instagram and come across an advertisement using a beautiful celebrity? She appears perfect. But the reality is that the photo has almost always been through multiple rounds of photoshop—making the celebrity’s body thinner, brightening her hair, straightening her teeth, removing all the blemishes from her skin, and even enlarging certain body parts like eyes and breasts. Furthermore, most celebrities spend thousands upon thousands of dollars on cosmetic surgery. Their gift of physical beauty isn’t a natural one. Many of us believe it is, though. And so we continue striving for an unrealistic standard that we’ll never attain—with the result being a loss of self-worth.

  We might not always be as pretty as the girl standing next to us, but ways of improving do exist. We can grow our hair long, or style it in a way that better compliments our facial structure. We can whiten our teeth or straighten them with braces. We can enhance our faces using makeup. We can work hard to get in great physical shape.

  That being said, physical beauty is far from the most important goal a girl can achieve in life. Think about all the beautiful girls and young men you’ve seen with less attractive partners. What made the attractive person decide to date or even to marry the less attractive person?

  One reason might be for the person’s reputation, or even for their money, but in the vast majority of cases, these relationships end in breakups or divorce. The relationships that last are the ones where the partners are drawn to each other’s character.

  Take, for example, a girl who has a beautiful appearance but an ugly character. Few of us would want to risk being friends with her. And whether we realize it or not, few young men would want to risk being with her either. Of course, many of them might pursue her initially—because they’re attracted to her and want to have sex with her—but after a few one-night stands or even a short-term relationship, they’ll walk away. They won’t pursue a marriage with her, or even a long-term relationship, because the risk of being used, abused and cheated on is too great.

  In the end, a young man will almost always choose a girl who makes up for what she lacks in outer beauty with what she possesses in inner beauty. Sincerity. Kindness. Generosity. Loyalty. Courage. Selflessness. He knows that a girl who has these types of qualities is a girl who will not only make his life happy, but a girl who he’ll want to spend his life making happy.

  At its core, physical beauty is obviously a great blessing. But physical beauty can be an even greater curse if we allow it to become our dominant quality. Perhaps we don’t allow it to become our dominant quality intentionally; perhaps we do so because we’re constantly being told how pretty we look. We consider physical beauty our crowning glory, and as a result, are constantly working to look our best, which ultimately risks us failing to develop any further good qualities or skills. In this case, when the inevitable day comes that our physical beauty starts to fade, so does our happiness.

  The truth is that a girl who allows physical beauty to become her dominant quality is oftentimes the most insecure. Since her sense of self-worth is built upon appearance, whenever a more beautiful girl comes along, or even if she’s simply having a bad hair day, her sense of self-worth is shattered. On the other hand, it’s absolutely possible for girls who are beautiful on the outside to also be beautiful on the inside.

  No girl is naturally great, but all of us have the potential to be great. The choice regarding whether we’re willing to put in the necessary work to develop our potential, possibly attaining greatness in the process, is something we have to decide for ourselves.

  How We Let Others Fake Us Out

  Like me, Lily was a writer. One of her favorite pastimes was to visit her local bookstore and browse the best-seller aisle. Shiny and perfectly packaged, the books had managed to attain the stamp of approval that Lily’s heart ached for. Her dream was to one day visit the bookstore and see a story of her own in the best-seller aisle. The problem was, apart from her family and close friends, no one complimented her stories. “You definitely have potential as a writer,” strangers told her, “but you still have a long way to go.”

  Over time, Lily grew frustrated with hearing the same criticism. Can’t I just meet one person who likes my stories as much as I do?
she thought. Are they really so bad?

  One day, while out to breakfast with her friend, Brianna, Lily got her wish.

  “I gave a copy of your book to a relative of mine,” Brianna said. “Last night, she called me up and told me she’s really enjoying it.”

  Lily forgot the ham and eggs on her plate. She coughed as she fought to swallow her food and speak at the same time. “Who is it?” she gasped.

  “Her name is—” Brianna paused, seeming reluctant to continue. “Her name is Carmen,” finally came the answer. “I should warn you, though. She’s a bit of a dark horse.”

  Lily disregarded the warning. The only thing she wanted to hear was how to contact Carmen. For the first time in her life, a stranger was enjoying her book. Could it really be true? Lily imagined that she and Carmen shared a rare connection. At the very least, Carmen was capable of seeing something that others couldn’t see.

  The minute Lily returned home, she contacted Carmen over social media.

  Brianna told me you’re enjoying my book. She typed out the message, hands wringing in anticipation, and then pressed “send.”

  Did the message sound too desperate? Maybe Carmen didn’t love the book; maybe she only liked it. Maybe Lily was getting worked up over nothing.

  Beep.

  A new message. Carmen had already responded.

  Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it’s you! I love your book so much! I stayed up all night to finish it. I’ve already started reading it a second time.

  Lily smiled and stared at the computer screen…blinking once…blinking twice…hardly believing that the words she was seeing were real. Clearly, her first instinct about Carmen had been correct: they shared a rare connection.