Death to the “Good Girl”

, ,

I was “good,” I was really good. 

I didn’t raise my voice too loud or ask too many questions. I didn’t probe or pry even when my curiosity wanted just a taste of the truth. I was always nurturing. Always ready to fix the broken thing. My flat chest would swell with pride whenever I heard someone refer to me as “the good girl.” I knew it would mean that I was revered. It meant that more effort would be put into the pursuit of me. It meant I was special.

What I didn’t know was that it would be a cage, a trap, and a way for others to not see the full spectrum of me as a woman. Years ago I killed the idea of myself as a “Good Girl,”

EF048DE4-3612-4E98-A455-819FAD441CD2

and it has been the most freeing decision of my womanhood.

 

You played yourself

I played into the idea. I wasn’t particularly voluptuous or well-dressed, but I could be good. I could people please until everyone fell prey to my kindness. I tried on the label like makeup, thinking it would enhance me in some way. I found that the act of being a good girl helped to place me on a pedestal in the minds of boys whose attention I was desperate for. It also meant that I would have a longer distance to fall once they realized I wasn’t perfect. I allowed myself to be trapped in the ideas that other people had of me. This meant that cursing was not acceptable; modesty in the way I dressed was expected, and I always needed to be gracious even when wronged.

68FE9651-00BD-4E11-B43A-45C3ED5C8D09

But ooooooohhh Chile, I got real tired of feeling like a couldn’t stretch the length of my personality, thoughts, dreams, and desires. And I realized that CONGRATULATIONS I had played myself all those years that I performed as the “good girl” because I was so much more than that label. I’ve allowed myself to be defined by a phrase that never captured the truth of who I am.

 

Peeling back the layers of the mask to reveal my truth underneath it has been shocking for many. I say FUCK now. A word that so clearly captures my mood but one that I just allowed myself to write and speak. I wear clothes many people think of as scandalous and I feel powerful in my sensuality because of it. I am not a “good girl.” I am the best contradiction you could ever hope to experience. Mellow and fierce. Shy and sensual. Soft and powerful. Trap yet contemporary. Introverted but assertive.

Most of all…I am a real ass woman, with real ass needs, wants, dreams, and feelings.

I shed the good girl label like a bad wig because there is no box that could hold the magnitude of my existence.

3D525D1F-41DD-42C2-8690-D566F48ABF5E

Take a STAB at it

The first stab came with my assertiveness. The second with my opinions. The third with my self-awareness and actualization. No one likes a mouthy “good girl” who challenges things and knows herself well enough to know that “good” and “girl” don’t come close to describing who she is.

I am a former “Good Girl” who has found power in my fullness.

To all my “Good Girls,” FREE yourself, kill that b****!

LBF STYLE

EAC97447-F753-4E82-9542-45EFD1268BB3

2 replies

Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. […] Death to the Good Girl was all about upholding a title that silently erased me as a woman. Many women and men alike could relate to the sentiment of behaving, speaking, and thinking a conformed way in order to embrace the title “good.” At the root, good is what we should strive for but what do we miss when we focus on performing instead of living? This topic was briefly explored on LBF Podcast for the episode titled “Good Guy: FACT or Fiction;” where I had a conversation with a self proclaimed good guy in an attempt to understand if “they” are stuck in the same mindset that this reformed good girl found herself in years ago. […]

  2. […] be the bitch that doesn’t fit in because at least I’ll recognize myself. We killed the “good girl” long ago for that very […]

Leave a Reply

Want to join the discussion?
Feel free to contribute!

Leave a Reply