Who am I?

It's a question that has plagued history's greatest thinkers for millennia. Aristotle, Plato, Hume, and Locke all grappled with how one should define oneself, whether through intellect, consciousness, memory, or something else. An important aspect to note, however, is that they were all white men. They had the luxury of being able to mull over their identities instead of being told who they should be based on their sex at birth. 

Today, women purportedly have more rights in Western nations than ever before, allowing us the freedom to choose our own adventure. In these societies, the narrative is that women no longer have to define themselves by the man in their life, whether that be a father, brother, boyfriend, or husband. Arguably, we even have the ability to break free from the male gaze, refusing to acknowledge how we're perceived by any man in general. The advent of social media, however, has given women unparalleled access to influences that tell us who to be, how to act, and how to present ourselves, and unfortunately, that influence often comes from other women. 

Many adults have expressed concern over how social media affects teenage girls. But this issue of identity, or a lack thereof, is affecting women deep into their twenties and thirties. Adult women consume the same content and still feel the unrelenting pressure to conform at any cost. If social media tells women what to like, what to think, and what to be interested in, they might end up cultivating a personality and a worldview based on parasocial envy that does not truly resonate with them at all.

Although Instagram was the original bellwether of shaping the ideal standards for female identity in the social media era, TikTok crystallized the notion that all aspects of a woman's life must fit into a box. Morning routines, aesthetics, 'XYZ' core, et cetera have, in some ways, allowed women to find community or aspirational categories to put themselves in. But, more than anything, they have pressured women to be a version of themselves that fits into what people they don't know online say they should be. 

In January, two TikTok videos went viral. It's unclear if the original video was intended to be taken seriously, but a precipitous decrease in the understanding of nuance on the internet meant it was. In it, a disembodied bust hovers in front of a list written in the iPhone notes app entitled "girl hobbies." The woman in the video describes a common problem one might face on a first date: "You know when you're asked what your hobbies are, and you feel like you have none?"

She states that many 'girls' don't have hobbies, but rather, 'girl hobbies.' This classification includes but is not limited to grabbing a little treat (specifically coffee and a pastry), doing your skincare, hair, or makeup, and – wait for it – shopping. If you read this list and your inner self-sufficient, independent woman felt sudden discomfort and sadness, you are not alone. The second video that went viral was a response to the original. This video featured a girl who had moved into the next emotional phase of feminist decay: anger. 

"What is going on? What are we saying? What is up with this infantilization, brain-rot trend that has grown women saying, 'I don't need hobbies or personality because I'm a 'teenage girl'?"

TikTok discourse's embrace, and eventual over-extension, of 'girlhood' certainly may have peaked in the Barbie-frenzied summer of 2023, but its roots extend several years back. Stemming from the "bimbofication" era, which spawned the term "hot girl XYZ" (summer, era, walk, etc.) during the pandemic, TikTok's definition of womanhood moved away from the career-oriented 'girl boss' and self-sufficient 'cool girl' eras to the 'New Age Bimbo.'

According to the queen of TikTok's New Age Bimbos,' Chrissy Chlapecka, "A bimbo isn't dumb. Well, she kind of is, but she isn't that dumb! She's actually a radical leftist who's pro-sex work, pro-Black Lives Matter, pro-LGBTQ+, pro-choice, and will always be there for her girlies, gays, and theys," she claimed in a video included in the caption: '#ihatecapitalism.' In other words, the New Age Bimbo was supposed to be hot, kind, and a little airheaded, yet politically involved, community-oriented, and secretly intelligent. Bimbos were supposed to weaponize the unintelligence that was assumed of them to change the world. 

While this might have been true in the early days of the term, the nuance was quickly lost. In some respects, this might be because the New Age Bimbo did not differ enough from the OG Bimbo. She was still as white, skinny, and blonde as Regina George in Mean Girls or The Simple Life-era Paris Hilton. She cares about social and political issues, sure – but not as much as being pretty. 

As the years have gone by, the New Age Bimbo has lost its social and political edge. From bimbofication to 'girl dinner' to 'girl math' – each more infantilizing and consumerist than the next as they devolved from jokes to reality – it's not too difficult to see how we ended up with 'girl hobbies.' Until very recently, and arguably still, doing any activity "like a girl" was an insult. It means weakness and frailty; it means not being good enough. The introduction and distortion of the term' girl XYZ' distinctly show a shift away from sexy, confident, and secretly intelligent 'bimbos' to a return to the tired and objectively untrue stereotype of female helplessness.

We are in an era of the New Age Bimbo without the New Age aspect that sets it apart. The kids call this 'girlhood.' Some call it regression humor, but as we have seen time and time again, jokes taken too far can have real-life effects. Some call it escapism; it's really, really hard to be an adult woman – I get it. But when does 'escapism' become an excuse not to interact with reality?

The real issue is that TikTok has made it more difficult than ever for women to figure out who they are. Not which trend they fit into, but who they are, what they care about, what they like and don't like, and what being a woman means to them. Finding one's identity is something that everyone struggles with; however, women have an especially challenging time self-actualizing because, up until very recently, most women have had no choice but to define themselves in relation to a man. 

This, however, is not to say that women have been free of societal pressures between the era we first entered the workforce and the dawn of social media. Indeed, the OG Bimbo of the early 2000s was riddled with internalized misogyny and hypercapitalism that was incredibly harmful to many women, including me. On the other hand, though, the 'cool girl' feminism and the 'girl boss' feminism that came after it were damaging in different ways that were, incredibly, also somehow couched in internalized misogyny and hypercapitalism. 

In adults, regression – reverting to childish behavior and presentation – can be a symptom of many psychological problems, but at its core, it is a coping mechanism. Sigmund Freud calls regression " an unconscious defense mechanism" that is rooted in feelings of insecurity, fear, and anger (NIH). Perhaps, in a world where impending doom seems nigh at every turn, many women are undergoing a form of collective regression not necessarily to childhood but to a state of blissful, willful ignorance.

Like I said, it is really, really hard to be an adult woman. But escaping back into childhood naivete and retreating from politics and community is not the answer. Putting on blinders doesn't make the problems go away. This is especially poignant for women of color, who have struggled to impress this upon white women for decades. Escapism is a luxury not afforded to those whose very existence is political. 

Although it may not seem this way at times (especially as a woman of color in predominantly white spaces), there is space within the experience of womanhood for lightness, ease, and guilt-free fun. As long as it is authentic to you, womanhood can be whatever you want it to be – whether it fits into the prescriptions of social media or not.