‘It’s so confusing sometimes to be a girl’ 

 is what Charli XCX professed in her hit ‘Girl, so confusing’ last summer. The song opened a conversation surrounding what it means to be a girl when you’re against another girl, especially in a world which seems to consistently try to pit girls against each other. The song became a conversation when Lorde, which the song was assumed to be talking about, hopped on the song’s remix to give her reply to the hellish confusion of girl drama and insecurity. This song’s cultural impact spoke for the girl masses when they sang ‘it’s so confusing to be a girl/ man I don’t know I’m just a girl’. 

But what does it mean to be a girl?  Or to be ‘just a girl’? In other words, what the hell is a ‘girl’? 

I myself have a strange relationship with ‘girl’ and ‘girlhood’. I have classically physical feminine features, yet I feel detached from being a girl on a personality level.  Moreover, being a gender fluid, queer individual who does not want to be seen as a girl all the time, I didn’t think it was entirely my place to put my experience at the forefront of this discussion. So, to really put my anthropology degree to use, I decided to ask my female friends and acquaintances what they thought it meant to be a girl and what girlhood meant to them. Interestingly, I did not get a straightforward answer to any of my questions. Being a girl and girlhood is more complex than those who practice it tend to let on (even to themselves). 

What I picked up on in the many conversations I had, in person and over text, was the idea of girlhood as an expectation. This especially ties into things such as outward/physical appearance: conforming to girlhood usually involves wearing makeup, jewellery, heels, glitter, and having long hair. Not all girls I know do these things, but many I talked to associate these things with the word girl. In fairness, a lot of the girls I know practice being a girl in ways that tend to differ from the ‘norm’. They prefer wearing trousers over a skirt most days (though they still love wearing one at times), rock short haircuts, and don’t wear a lot of makeup. But in all these discussions, I noticed this awareness of one’s physical appearance and how innately tied it is to the practice of being a girl.  

Interestingly, a few of my friends made similar points about how becoming a girl and the desire to practice girlhood wasn’t always something they wanted to do. In their younger years, they pushed against the idea of ‘girly’ things such as bows, dresses, the colour pink, etc, because they predominantly perceived the negative expectations that came with these concepts, like weakness. Yet in private and as they got older, they found themselves practicing ‘girly’ things, such as spinning around in dresses in their rooms, experimenting with fashion, and liking the colour pink. Now, as they enter their adult years, I’m hearing more of my friends say they ‘feel more like a girl now than ever before’. All they wanted to do was explore girl in their own time, on their own terms. 

But we all know that being a girl is never just fun and games. One of my friends expressed her grievances with not being ‘girl’ enough, her lack of prominent breasts unable to physiologically signal to the outside world that she is indeed a girl. She went on to talk about how she feels she comes off as ‘crass’ and unladylike when talking to men, and that her personality (along with her personal style) feels at times androgynous and not incredibly ‘girly’. This is another part of being a girl that one is made aware of from a very young age: the male gaze. It does not just penetrate the physical appearance and desirability of the feminine body, but the ‘feminine personality’ too, which many signposted. 

A few of my friends told stories about uncomfortable experiences in their youth with men at clubs, music festivals, on city streets, and more. The range of the ages these happened at – anywhere from fourteen to their twenties – is a sobering, yet unfortunately, not novel reminder of how the male gaze and male expectation towards girls is an accepted part of society.  

When telling her story, a friend explained that the first time she was harassed, she never said anything and just walked away. In that moment, she registered the situation as so commonplace in society that speaking out for her safety didn’t even occur to her. Another friend made a point about how presenting as a girl comes with the awareness (and reluctant acceptance) of one’s own safety, or a lack thereof. Being a girl means being hyper aware walking alone at night, on the train, or going to the bathroom. Even in groups of girls, there is no guaranteed safety in numbers, less so if you’re a minority within a group of men. Being a girl has also meant subconsciously accepting invasive behaviour, even if progressing politics might try to push for otherwise.  

This part of girlhood is tough to an extreme that can seem depressing at times. But this creates reason for the collective nature of girlhood, and in turn, female friendships. When I brought up female friendships to my friends, I could visibly see their eyes light up with joy as they were given the chance to talk about them. Many I conversed with said how female friendships are probably one of the most fulfilling parts of their life, how they revel in spending time with other girls, practicing being a ‘girls girl’, being physically affectionate and emotionally open, advising each other on fashion, talking about love and relationships. A few did make the observation that they couldn’t distinguish whether this was just from being within female friendships – as one friend put it ‘absorbing that girl energy’ – or friendships in general, but others did comment that their lack of male friends should be evidence enough for what sort of friendships they prioritise. However, one thing was for sure: female friendships are life affirming and extremely profound. 

 I was interested to hear guys' opinions on the matter too. Consulting my (very few) male friends on how they perceive being a girl and girlhood, I received some interesting perspectives. A long-term friend of mine that I’ve known for over fifteen years told me how he viewed girlhood as a very expressive and social concept. He admired the ability girls have to express themselves as confident and defiant, in a much more positive way than masculinity often presents itself. As someone attracted to women, he continued, he feels that the increased confidence and agency has allowed for women to reframe traditional (heterosexual) relationships, like queer women have done for quite some time. He expressed his envy of the support network found in female friendships, something that he believes men are societally behind on, especially when it comes to self-expression. He does, however, make a wonderful point about the practice of girlhood, claiming ‘aspects of girlhood can be embodied by anyone’. 

One thing was made very clear amongst girls: yes, they love being girls. And no, despite all the negatives, they would never (ever!) trade it for being a man.  

All individuals mentioned have been left anonymous in this article. Many thanks to everyone who contributed.