When I was in high school I absolutely despised the idea of being a girl stepping into womanhood. That I would be another piece of flesh and bones for a man to own. That I wouldn’t be anything more than a housewife baring children. I would be told what to wear, how to act, and force to do things I wanted nothing to do with.

My parents never taught me those things, no, they were the ones who uplifted me and encouraged me to go to college and make a life of my own. That I had endless possibilities to who I wanted to become. That as a woman I have abilities men could never understand. I was the muse and the artist. But the worst thing I think I’ve had to learn in life so far, my parents don’t control everything else. That once I would leave the secure wrap of my parents arms, they would become a phone call away and I would have to use the survival skills they had taught me. That not everyone thinks that way my parents do, especially not the media. I am writing this piece because as another birthday comes and goes, I’m taking the time to look back at how far I’ve come. Between school life, mental health, and just my general existence. That almost 10 years ago, I would entail the hardest four years of my life.

The princess was safe in her castle with the king and queen providing protection to become whoever she wanted to be.

I would like to pitch the idea of gender frustration, the idea that you don’t know what you want to be, that you’re hurt by the media around you that you want to be yourself and not care what everyone else thinks but all the social pressure makes you go the complete opposite direction. That you don’t want to have to become impossible social standards, that you can’t be a woman cause you don’t have a certain body type or have a snappy attitude. That you’re not good enough because you don’t follow the rules.

I grew up very girly, Bratz dolls, kids makeup, dresses, and crowns. Colorful bedrooms and endless nail appointments. I loved it. I would never change my childhood for the world. I would give my dad attitude as the woman around me laughed and uplifted me, where the term sassy Cassie was coined. I was never put down for being a girl, that being a girl connected me to a lot of things like nature, power, my emotions. That princess was proud and excited for the life ahead of her.

But the princess had to be laid to sleep.

So entering high school, that princess had to be protected, her innocence and wonder for the world. She would not be safe so I would become something else to protect her. When I was in high school, I wore baggy clothes to cover up my not idealistic body, I would pull my hair up and out of my face to make it feel shorter, and I would surround myself with male friends to try and prove to everyone else around me that I was too manly to be a woman. I despised the pretty girls who got up early to do hair and makeup, another activity that would become expected of me. I had to cover up my anxieties and emotions as to not have the boys claim, “it must be that time of the month.” Because that would be shameful and embarrassing.

That princess that laid beneath my skin could barely breath in her sleep.

It’s weird that I find myself actually able to pinpoint where I started to embrace that more feminine side that was tucked away. I was a freshman in college, gaining my independence, excelling in my studies, staying socially involved, and ecstatic for the new Birds of Prey movie. Harley Quinn’s character is complicated in a way women can only understand, she is sexualized and left to be in an abusive relationship. But the Birds or Prey movie brought Harley Quinn to a more realistic light. She was always optimistic and excited, she would wear whatever she wanted, and she was merely happy at the fact that she was alive. I loved her portrayal in this movie. I was so excited to have a woman in comic movies to look up to who wasn’t lusting after a man or put into tight fighting body suits. She was different. She was inspiration.

The princess had opened her eyes and risen from her long slumber.

Gender today, is a very complicated thing. We have seem to gotten female and male (biological terms used with most species) mixed up with men and woman (human made social construct). I’ve gotten to a point of who gives a sh**. I see the world as a long as you’re not hurting innocent people and you show respect to those who are different (respect thy neighbor) you can do what you want. Even though I’ve become more comfortable stating that I am a woman, I’m not anything traditional. I am power, I am strength, and I look good while I do it which most powerful men can’t say themselves. But the thing about my power doesn’t resolve around politics and money, no, it’s about protecting my community, speaking up for those who can’t, and putting those who walk on the same sidewalk as me first. Men with power and money are weak. They are intimated. As a woman, you could take everything away from me and I will still rise to the top and be proud of who I am. But men with power and money? That’s their everything, they will crumble and blame the other guy. They fail.

Life is about adventure not bickering about “well technically you are this,” “well you were born like that.” I am proud to be who I am, I am more than a woman, an artist, a writer, an adventurer, a risk taker. I’m someone who is just trying to figure it all out and that’s okay.

The princess is excited for her wonder to blossom in beautiful ways.

Thank you so much for reading! Have a wonderful day!