Longing for the Freedom and Joy of a Preteen Girl
Remembering My Authentic Self Before the Initiation to Patriarchy. A Call to Access Our Voice by Remembering the Age Before Women Learn to Shut It Down.
I have been dreaming of my childhood pony, Fritzie. Riding Fritzie through open fields, wind in my mis-kept flyaway hair. Filthy mud fights with the neighborhood kids. Without pressure to be anything but my authentic and fantastic self. Themes of freedom and joy.
I am not the only woman who has increasing memories of my preteen years. It is interesting to me that in conversations with women struggling with the oppressive actions of the Trump administration, many are having dreams and memories of this life stage. Upon exploration, they have come to the same conclusion. We long for the freedom we felt in those years. The awareness arises, then the tears. We feel the grief of the loss, and potential loss, of our human rights and freedoms as women. Post-60s and 70s feminist revolution, we took this freedom for granted and now we are devastated.
In my youth, my favorite book characters were Ramona the Pest and Pippi Longstocking. I identified with their refusal to follow cultural norms and their mischievous, independent personalities.
My grandfather was always trying to capture the perfect family photo. It was a game and family ritual for me. Every time I stuck out my tongue. There was laughter. Then I would comply with a fake smile. I remember my grandmother’s belly laughter as I sang the Christmas jingle, “Grandma got ran over by a reindeer…some people say there is no such thing as Santa, but as for me and Grandpa we believe.” My horrified and well-behaved English mom screamed at me to stop. Everything was fun. Being serious sucked the joy out of life.
I fondly remember feeling pure freedom in those years. It hadn’t yet occurred to me I should have been more behaved, feminine, quiet, and fragile. I didn’t feel breakable. That was helpful because riding in the back of a pickup truck is not that safe. It was great to be naïve.
The preteen years are special. Many women, upon reflection, recognize they gave up a piece of themselves in those years. They left behind the free girl with a voice. Why? Because these are the years that we socialize women to fit into patriarchal norms. These are the years we learn proper etiquette for young ladies. This is where patriarchal initiation begins as we correct each other and take part in relational aggression toward other girls. It is the developmental stage when we lose touch with our authenticity.
In 1982, Carol Gilligan published the classic book, “In a Different Voice: Psychological Theory and Women’s Development.” Her extensive research pinpoints when and why women lose their voice and authenticity. She reported preteen girls act “as if” they have no voice. They learn this acting is the way to fit in. She found that girls learn what we want them to say and comply. Society socializes girls to believe that silent women are moral and good.
I remember using my preteen voice. I even used the written word. Like the time I wrote “F*ck” on the sidewalk down the street in my mom’s red nail polish. After my older sister tattle-tailed on me, my mom sent me back down the street with nail polish remover and I removed what I could. Cussing shame successfully installed. Correction accomplished.
The TV show Charlie’s Angels began in 1976, I was 8. Charlie gave instructions to three beautiful women working for him as private investigators, and they did what he said. The angels were capable and powerful, yet objectified and sexualized. This was the height of second-wave feminism. It was confused. I had no clue. I got the message of the time; beautiful women are the ideal and we need men to tell us what to do. Men lead; women follow.
What are your memories of preteen freedom? When and how was your voice lost or challenged and corrected? Have you reclaimed all or part of it back? What authentic part might you have left in your preteen years? Please share your stories and photos of these years. Let’s inspire each other with our preteen freedom.
Please leave a comment with your thoughts. I want to hear your voice.
Such a great way to look at this, and reflect on who you were before that voice and power were drowned out by these harmful cultural narratives.
Thank you for such a poignant article and for sharing such pictures. I remember (this was 2000s) being keenly aware of a sense of loss during this change from preteen to teen years back then. I hated the expectations of beauty norms. Though as a kid I really liked some girly things (and still do) like nail polish, I hated the feeling that I would be expected to do these things every day. It felt too time consuming, and all that stuff lost its fun.