Hear ye, hear ye! Please gather around for another ad nauseam analysis of the all-pervading “Girl Code.”
What a joke.
Through years of trial and error, I have come to the conclusion that many of the terms coined by women to describe other women fall abysmally, painstakingly … flat. Whether a “mean girl,” “pick me,” or the golden standard, “girl’s girl,” we seem to use such language as yet another metric for female comparison.
According to much TikTok commentary, a “girl’s girl” is a woman who genuinely supports, uplifts, and values other women, viewing them as allies and friends rather than rivals. She’s the stranger who gives you a tampon in the bathroom, never gate-keeps her outfit details, always hypes you up on Instagram, and is readily available to beat the dead horse that is your shitty ex. It’s the highest honor you can bestow upon a woman and also the easiest to have revoked.
Photo Courtesy of Urban Dictionary
When I told some women about my intention to write this article, I was met with uneasy stares and concerned smiles. How could I so easily announce to the world that I was not a girl’s girl? Did that mean I supposedly hate women and prioritize men? Call me canceled. They feigned support, but I could read the thoughts behind their words: I would never do that. I support women.
In these moments, I wish they had exercised that support by speaking up. Challenging my proposal. Telling me they disagreed. I would have explained my view and discussed the nuances within it. Instead, we brushed past the topic in the name of feminism, maintaining the image of nonthreatening, agreeable, and easy-to-approve-of women. We segued into commonalities, such as their latest situationship and how bloated we felt that day.
I really can’t hate because I was once the exact same way. Terrified of being disliked, I bent over backward for every woman I met. Because we shared a gender, I immediately trusted and wholeheartedly supported them by commenting “soooo cute” on each of their posts like clockwork. I was an open book, a shoulder to cry on, and always the first to forgive. A poster-child girl’s girl!
Turns out, a shared gender does not equal shared values.
Photo Courtesy of Ria Pai
When it’s beneficial, everyone is a self-proclaimed girl’s girl. They like the aesthetic of it—the sleepovers, the girl dinners, the wine nights. It’s all cute and fun, but it fails to address what happens when girlhood is not aesthetic but inevitably messy and human. Shit happens. People act irrationally, fail to apologize, take their frustrations out in less-than-dignified ways, and even, God forbid, feel attracted to someone deemed off-limits.
You will go every extra mile for this prized label just to end up back at the starting line when the rules conveniently change. Trust me, I’ve run circles around them.
Women have been conditioned for centuries to compete for male attention. To think we can erase that with a #GirlsGirl doesn’t make us better friends; it makes us yes-(wo)men. We focus more on tiptoeing around each other and suppressing our true feelings than on building deep, meaningful connections.
In practice, female friendships are much more complex than a brand or hashtag. Supporting women doesn’t have to mean supporting every decision they make. It isn’t binary. It requires effort and vulnerability that might cost you something. If we need a rulebook on being a good friend, it’s because we don’t know what it truly means to be one.
Photo Courtesy of Ria Pai
Authenticity is not always attractive. Still, it anticipates conflict and prepares us to face it. In the words of the refreshingly honest Audrey Hobert: Sue me, I want to be wanted. I’m not always virtuous and selfless. I get angry and vent; sometimes we’ll disagree. Argue. Go silent. But when we ultimately reconcile, you can rest assured knowing I love you for you, not for who I want you to be.
I’m not a girl’s girl who follows an ambiguous rulebook. I’m an imperfect woman who reads the fine print. And to read your friends like a book rather than displaying them in a curated feed—well, that’s the kind of girl I want to be.
Photo Courtesy of Ria Pai
Strike Out,
Writer: Ria Pai
Editor: Francesca Jaques
Ria Pai is the Managing Editorial Director for Strike Magazine GNV. She starts her day with copious amounts of coffee and ends it lying in bed, thinking of witty comebacks to unlikely scenarios. In the interim, she enjoys making elaborate meals for the people she loves, ranting about the same three topics in her journal, and never skipping leg day. You can reach her on Instagram @veryberrypai or by email at pairiaraj@gmail.com.
