Everywhere we go, we are surrounded by monsters. No, they are not the fairy tale kind, towering beasts that are ready to kill us. Instead, we are surrounded by stereotypes, or more specifically, gender stereotypes. All my life I’ve been told how I should act. How I should look. What activities I should enjoy. Who I should associate myself with. And for as long as I can remember, I’ve broken the rules of what society tells me I should be.

The first time I took notice of these gender stereotypes was when I was in preschool. It was playtime, and I had gotten tired of the exasperating  four year old girl drama of playing school, so I went over to the blocks and asked two boys if I could helps them build a tower. They told me that playing with blocks was a  “boy activity” and to go back to the girls. Luckily, or so I thought, the teacher came over and told the boys to be nice. I thought that she would tell them to let me play with them, but she told me that the area was too crowded (Yeah, right, with only two boys on the entire rug) and suggested I go play with some girls playing with dolls. I went, but only so my peers wouldn’t see the tears fighting to squeeze out of my eyes, leaving a trail like the trace of a slug on a leaf. It wasn’t fair! I put on my best pouting face and clenched my little fists. Why was a thing as simple as blocks deemed masculine?

Gender stereotypes don’t just exist in the cootie-filled preschool world. As we grow older, dolls and blocks turn into ballet and football. We are taught that for girls, it’s okay to be emotional, or cry sometimes. But boys, boys are expected to always be manly and strong. Society attempts to categorize us by our gender. Everyday, I see and notice the stereotypes, whether it’s in the school announcements, advertisements, or just when interacting with others. Usually, I don’t put much thought to them. But sometimes, they come from people I really admire, and that’s when it leaves scars that even the most heartfelt apology can’t heal.

My voluminous hair has always been a target for friends and family to joke about. Usually, it doesn’t hurt me too much when they tease me about it, but sometimes, they say something that makes my blood boil. One of these instances was with my mother, on a day where my hair was especially messy because of the humidity. I hadn’t put my hair up because I had just gotten out of bed. I was eating breakfast when she commented on my hair. “Melody,” she said, “you need to do something about that hair of yours. It’s getting out of control. Why don’t you learn how to do something with it to make it look like all the other girls?”

 Hearing this made me furious. I responded with a nonchalant, “Okay,” but I hastily finished my breakfast, ran to my room, and flung myself onto my bed. I don’t want to be a plastic Barbie Doll and look like all the other girls! I don’t want to spend hours every morning perfecting my outward appearance in order to please others. I am fine with how my hair is, and I don’t care what others think. Society tells girls that you have to look a certain way, with flawless skin and impeccable hair. I am not that girl.

As I become more and more aware of gender stereotypes everywhere around me, I am able block out the voices telling me what my name is. Two years ago, I started playing soccer more competitively, and despite people telling me that I’ll never go anywhere, and that women will never be as good as men, my teammates and I work our hardest every game and practice. We run sprints for hours, and we tackle each other just as hard as the guys.

Like any stereotype, gender stereotypes are hard to break. It’s up to each and every one of us to show that we aren’t defined by what others say we are. Men and women are more than just what our labels tell us we are. We are all different, and we should embrace who we are instead of trying to conform into what others think we should be. As for me, my name is no longer “that girl” or “weak” or “will never really amount to anything.” My name is “strong” and “capable” and maybe even “tower builder.”

-Melody Yu