Check Other

Inside a dark, crowded bar, a band starts up with a raucous number. They’re playing your favorite song! There’s a moment of pause: you look around, see that everyone in the crowd is either lazily nodding their heads or sipping their drinks. But there’s a storm of dance brewing up inside you. Do you go crazy like you want to, limbs flailing and mouth wide open? Or do you play it off like the sophisticated cool cat you are, and submit to tapping your foot to the beat?

Pressure to conform to whatever everyone else is doing can freeze us up inside. It can keep us still when we’d rather be moving. We stay silent when we have something to say. We stifle our laughs or smiles because no one else is showing any signs of emotion on their faces.

It’s a popular misconception we hold: if we act in unconventional ways, we won’t be liked, popular, or attractive. It’s thinking like this that breeds pack mentality, a pack in which no one is saying or doing anything new, because if it’s new, that means it’s not currently being said or done. Which means it must be weird, or it would’ve already been done right? Let me paint you a picture: the backdrop is some dingy club, neon beer signs a-glowin’. Five girls line up at the bar, all wearing the same high-waisted shorts and tank tops of the same color family. One girl stands at the bar next to them, wearing…something else. Did she not get the memo? Is she a weirdo?

As twenty-somethings, we receive lists of acceptable life choices based on two criteria: gender and age. Let’s tackle them one at a time.

As women, we’re told to appear presentable at all times. This is often interpreted as, I need a face full of make-up and form-fitting yet modest clothing to be liked and attractive to my peers. This particular issue is where I face the most pressure to conform. I was raised by a mother who wore little more than eyeliner, so I was never told I needed to wear make-up to be a real woman. After being carded the hundredth time trying to buy an R-rated movie ticket or cold medicine at age 22, I decided maybe I should slap some paint on my face to appear my age. I still don’t wear much, but for a solid two years, I refused to leave the house unless I wore eyeliner, mascara, concealer and lip balm. But I still got carded everywhere I went. So today, in my twenty-sixth year, I choose not to wear make-up if I’m not feeling it. I’m not scared that men will find me unattractive or women will scoff at me for appearing the way I truly am. As a wise woman once said, I woke up like this.

I think our culture’s obsession with women looking their best at all times comes down to freedom. Boys are allowed to run wild and free. They’re allowed to be aggressive, physically and verbally. Girls must be calm and poised. If a girl’s hair is messy, that means she’s been running around too much and hasn’t put the time into crafting her appearance. Obviously, advances have been made since the Victorian era, but modern experiences have shown me that this line of thinking rears its ugly head today. I have been repeatedly told that I’ll never nail down a man long-term if I continue swearing and shouting and acting aggressively when men are present. If I like a guy, I should make myself available (but not too available) for him to call me. I should wait by the phone, praying to God that it rings, because picking it up and dialing the number myself would be too aggressive of a move. If a man makes eye contact with me across a crowded room, I should coquettishly look away, because my direct gaze is too forward. I should agree with things my date says, even if I think they’re ignorant or incorrect, because arguing would make me a difficult, undateable sort of woman.

There are also conformity pressures dealing specifically with time, which have been passed down to us by our parents’ generation. These are the pressures that strike fear into even the wildest women’s hearts. When we reach our mid-twenties, the Western man’s timetable says it’s time to settle down, introduce some structure into our lives. Have a long-term relationship, buy a car. Why are we so afraid to live our lives day by day and let events unfold on their own time? Is success a race to the finish line, the first few to reach their goals being the only ones living fulfilling existences? Surely this isn’t true.

I’ve been called weird for choosing a job in the service industry after college instead of a desk job. I’ve been called weird for choosing to go to events alone instead of searching for a date. Hell, I’ve been called weird my whole life for having a huge head of unrefined curls and a man’s first name. And it used to bother me. I would ask my mom, why do I feel so othered around my peers? Her answer: keep doing you. They’ll understand one day.

We must not feel confined by this illusion that we only have a few choices. Just because something isn’t currently being done doesn’t mean it can’t be done. In this period of our lives, it’s our duty to challenge conventions in order to find the most true and accurate versions of ourselves. Be weird, be original, and express yourself as fully as you want to inside. And most importantly, surround yourself with people who encourage you to be as free as you as you want to be.