I have always perceived myself as a unique, wonderful girl. Over the years, I have constructed, reconstructed, and deconstructed myself to show me as a girl you would want to hang out with—the one-of-a-kind one. I have various versions of myself, perhaps twice as many as my age. It all boils down to me wanting to be unique from everyone else.

From my looks and likes to my quirks, I threw away those deemed unlovable, ugly, and those like cheap knock-offs. All in the name of gaining social acceptance, which would give me the free pass of being special. And just when I couldn’t refine myself anymore, the patriarchal society then exhorted me to triumph over every woman I knew.

Man-made catfights

(Photo from Mean Girls (2004))

“What the patriarchy wants is for you to see other women as your enemy.”

I remember these exact words from YoungSTAR’s editor-in-chief Andrea Panaligan, when my friends and I interviewed her for a school requirement. As mere humans, we have our hidden narcissistic tendencies that urge us to be more competitive. With “girl boss” as my strongest suit, I saw women as competitors rather than sisters.

Dominated by the male gaze, internalized prejudice against women is sadly and deeply embedded in us. We must pretend that our jealousy, resentment, or even hatred are nonexistent. We think we are not chained to the patriarchy and to capitalism, but those forces urge us to be more immaculate or be whatever is more palatable and seamless to the rest of society.

From beauty standards to personal whims, the patriarchy presents us with a manual on how to be a woman, and we become trapped in this corrosive environment of petty rivalries and jealousy.

We’ve seen how the media plays evil on silent beef and adds more fuel to the fire between Selena Gomez and Hailey Bieber’s alleged feud through the years. Rivalries among female celebrities are nothing new—from Taylor Swift and Katy Perry to Olivia Rodrigo and Sabrina Carpenter—but this takes us backwards.

The media also perpetuates stereotypes about how women are pitted against each other in real life. It also shows how women are stigmatized through misinformation. Charismatic women like former Vice President Leni Robredo, former senator Leila de Lima, and Maria Ressa were all pitted against the fist of a common sexist president.

In her article, Damini Mehta argues that the patriarchy generates the idea that women cannot flourish. Even if they manage to, they are confined to a narrative of “only a select few of you can access resources and prestige, and that has to be done at the cost of others.”

The patriarchy, therefore, fosters a dynamic where women see each other as enemies. The way the patriarchy sees women results in women continuously positioning themselves as the only successful woman while viewing other women unfavorably. That one line from Barbie says it all: “Everyone hates women. Men hate women, and women hate women. It’s the one thing we can agree on.” Although too generalized, it is a hard truth that not all girls will advocate for one another.

From a former ‘pick me girl’...

(Photo from Gone Girl (2014))

I was no stranger to wearing different hats just to gain high-fives from boys.

Whenever I think of cool girl, Amy Dunne’s monologue from Gone Girl comes to mind. She rambles on how being a “cool girl” is about impressing men. Like a chameleon, you must constantly change your skin to make yourself seem chill, fun, and, most importantly, cool.

I used to aspire to be one. Growing up, I didn’t fully don my femininity the way I wanted.

Before I entered my teen years, indie sleaze was the main aesthetic: high-top Chucks, ripped fishnet stockings, black chokers, and The Arctic Monkeys and The 1975 on repeat over wired earphones. Fashion-wise, this was the epitome of cool: somehow low effort, rigid, and not “girly.”

Despite the scorching heat, I got the nickname “long-sleeve girl” for wearing oversized pullovers. I would play games like agawan base or langit lupa with boys even though I hated being toasted under the sun for too long. I also had to laugh at sensual jokes they made, even if I didn’t understand them. I was somewhat tomboy-ish and a wannabe cool girl. The only subtle way of showing my “girliness” was through my bows and hair clips that were awkwardly placed on my head.

I had to strut my masculine energy and throw away my femininity. I was once a “pick me girl” who prided herself on being “not like any other girl” so I wouldn’t be a subject of ridicule. I reluctantly accepted that persona, seemingly begging for validation from the male gaze. This raises the critical question: Is there a right way to be a woman?

Trapped in that panopticon, it forced me to police every other woman for sashaying their own femininity, and to be mean to them. But as I created imaginary catfights with them, I wouldn’t deny that I have incorporated some aspects of their individuality into my being.

…To a plagiarized girl

(Photo from Barbie (2023))

Like a glowstick, I was malleable. But then I cracked, and all that was dark and blue became pink and glittery.

One iconic moment of girlhood for me and many others was the release of the movie Barbie. Without anyone instructing us, we ran to the nearest cinema and showed up in our Barbiecore aesthetics with hot pink as the main color. It was like every woman was wired to one another—that, after all, we girls have a shared love for pink that we tried to mask.

As I nitpicked each facet of womanhood that was deprived of me, I became a plagiarized girl, beautifully patched and weaved together by every woman I encountered. I was emancipated from the exhausting pursuit of originality. Gone are the days of gatekeeping clothing brands, secretly listening to bubblegum pop songs, and no more accepting “you’re not like other girls” as a compliment from boys.

The emergence of the “girl’s girl” on TikTok has become an antithesis to the idea that women must set themselves apart and craft different identities. Nica Glorioso argues that we can't gain an appreciation of gender equality, empowerment, and the complexity of womanhood through what may appear as silly concepts like “girl’s girl.” Yet, given its growing acceptance and the need for us girls to stick together, it might be beneficial for us to unlearn patriarchal norms instilled in us.

In my case, it’s all about finding the right people who can be the spine of my being and the pillar of my sanity.

My girl friends may not realize it, but they give me another reason to wake up every morning. I always look forward to our mandatory debriefings after pretending to be adults all day. They taught me that it’s okay to bed rot and crave sweet treats amidst my swamped school agenda. We try to discover what color palette suits us best by sharing beauty products, be it lavender-colored blush, mauve lipsticks, or bunny tongue-colored lip glosses. From nights out to brunch dates, our closet holds various styles. Trivial as one may think, but we enjoy recommending playlists, books, and films that make us think of ourselves as women. It’s like breathing, but this time, it’s not confined to a breathing bag.

Relishing our similarities and the sense of belongingness that comes with it, we fashion the personalized lores that only we girls get. Stories like our first menstruation, problematic childhood, or collective exasperation guide us in each other’s embrace, trying to rise above this unjust world. It genuinely goes beyond owning camaraderie and empowerment. It mends the crevices of our cores, comforting us and saying: “You’ve been through a lot. Come here and be a girl with me.”

Finally, this is love.