Because femininity is a concept, it can be constantly reshaped, redefined, and distorted based on the beliefs of the society it exists within, and social media works to heighten and mirror that. As a young, Black queer woman navigating both the virtual and physical world, I am able to notice and reflect on instances where social media becomes a space of healing for certain groups, but not others. Across numerous social media platforms, we’ve seen a rise in “girlhood” related trends. From girl dinner to girl math, a curated glimpse into what it means to be a “girl” is flooding our senses and our timelines. While the inherent satirical nature of the trend can be harmless and even beneficial from the surface, as someone who identifies as a woman and sometimes even a girl I am able to see and experience how the trend works to support and promote undertones of exclusivity apparent in Western society. 

I want to make an important distinction between how the trend looks and what it communicates. I’ve always been a “girly girl” at heart, it’s a way of embracing femininity that feels comfortable for me, so visually I should relate to a trend built on a hyperfeminine, pink-clad life, right? But I don’t, and that is what compelled me to think more critically and write about this topic. I didn’t see myself reflected in this trend and I feel like I’m not the only one. When I look through videos of girlhood on social media, I am often fed a very idealized image. White, heterosexual, cis-gendered, and able-bodied. This perception of femininity being promoted is one that speaks and appeals to a very specific and very Westernized idea of beauty. For women like me, who were once girls like me, this representation can be jarring. It not only feels like our unique experiences don’t belong in public view but that we should try to conform or assimilate to the experiences being shown to us. For girls like me, social media doesn’t always offer room to express our girlhood in a way that feels right, especially not in a widespread or public manner. Instead, there’s an unspoken pressure to conform to this widely celebrated form of femininity and for those who don’t fit in that box, their experiences are erased. Also, girlhood, like most other trends and phenomena on social media, is heavily commodified, and it always has been. So not only am I being sold a hyperspecific, hyperbolized version of femininity, but it’s one I don’t even identify or relate to. I completely understand the positive aspects of the trend but I also can’t help but approach it with apprehension because of the disappointing tendency the media has of generalizing or erasing my experiences as a Black woman. Because of that, I can’t be surprised that I’m seeing the same thing happen here, but instead of my current experiences as a Black woman, it’s my past experiences as a Black girl.

In my AFST 460 course, Black Hair and Body Politics (highly recommended!) we talk about the concept of the “other”. The other is determined because they are different from what is considered the hegemonic norm. In girlhood and femininity, the norm is white Eurocentric experiences of girlhood, and as a result, all WOC and what we experience are labeled as the other. When you’re the other, there is something inherently wrong with you, how you live, and what you experience. I can’t help but feel as though these trends think there is something wrong with my Blackness and my Black girlhood. There is so much to my girlhood that I value and cherish, like the memories of sitting in my mom’s lap for hours while she braided my hair, visiting my family in the UK, early RnB and funk music, and so much more. I haven’t seen this trend celebrate common aspects of the Black girlhood experience unless it is a Black woman herself making space for it. To me, that isn’t fair. If we’re celebrating girlhood, shouldn’t we celebrate all types of girlhood? My girlhood is shaped by my culture and heritage and that doesn’t always align with the trends that dominate my timeline, and I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. 

In the eyes of this trend, there is only one way to be feminine and only one way to heal your inner girl, and if you’re not doing it that way you’re doing it wrong. I urge anyone who relates to this post to appreciate the uniqueness of your girlhood and how it has been impacted by your identity and surroundings. Reclaiming your girlhood doesn’t automatically mean completely conforming to or rejecting mainstream trends, but embracing the beauty of difference. For me, reclaiming my girlhood means doing my hair myself, it reminds me of the bonds I made with my mom when she did it for me. For me, it means listening to the same ’80s and ’90s RnB and funk music my mom used to blast every Saturday morning. These experiences define my girlhood and it wouldn’t be fair to try and apply them to every other woman in the world. That’s my primary issue with this trend, it had so much potential to celebrate the inherent diversity in upbringing. We all have different backgrounds and our girlhoods looked different because of that, regardless we are connected in that we were all girls. Instead, this trend chooses to uplift one version of girlhood and completely exclude all others. There is inherent value in all forms of girlhood, even the ones that aren’t popularized or commodified.

While it is upsetting that yet again women of color are forced to carve out spaces for ourselves within popular media trends, there is still power in reclaiming your girlhood, whatever that means for you. The trend shouldn’t be about commodification or fitting into aesthetic boxes, but celebrating your roots and healing your inner child. There is no one way to be a girl. Girlhood and womanhood are messy, hectic, and beautifully diverse and that is what the trend should be celebrating. Girlhood, like all trends, is fun and fleeting. Despite this, it’s important to recognize how they can be used to perpetuate exclusion and marginalization. For those who fit inside the box this trend has popularized, think critically about the media you’re consuming, and how it might be impacting those who look different from you. For those of us on the outside of mainstream definitions of “girlhood”, it is important to remember our stories, our youth, and our identities are just as valuable –because at our core, we are all just a girl.