Like A Girl


From Instagram, the other week (mildly edited, for coherence):

This is Emilia. She likes princesses, surfing, American Girl dolls, dolphins, cake, her kitten, and, as of the other weekend, motorcycles. She is, to not put too fine a point on it, a badass.

She totally is. A badass that is. I’m not sure that that’s the right word for it. And for what it’s worth, she doesn’t think that it is, either. (When she saw the Instagram post, she asked what ‘badass’ meant. I said that it meant she was awesome. Her responses: “Mommy, what does me being awesome have to do with BUMS?” Which is a good question, I suppose.)

And we don’t really call girls ‘tomboys’ anymore, do we? If we do, we shouldn’t. There’s nothing derivative of boy about my girl, or any girl. Her badassery is her very own, and if it has a gender – does it need to have a gender? – it is girl, because she is girl. So. I don’t know what the right word is, or whether there even needs to be a word. Besides ‘awesome,’ that is.

Because she is that. Awesome.

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