What Makes Us Girls

by Brittany Pettibone

  Although the young men’s comparison struck a nerve in my feminine pride, for as long as I knew them, they never compared me again—at least not to my face. In this respect, communicating to our friends and loved ones how we feel is imperative. Without communication, the channel to understanding the world around us is cut. We might even end up developing a false sense of how our loved ones perceive us, which could destroy our relationships irreparably.

  On the other hand, if the negative comparison was intentional and the person, even though they love us, made the comparison deliberately to hurt us because they were angry, we simply have to come to terms with the fact that people say harsh words out of anger all the time—and more often than not, they don’t truly mean what they’re saying in regards to insulting us. Many of us likely already understand this because we’re guilty of using harsh words in moments of anger ourselves. It might take some time, but if the person loves us, eventually they’ll apologize.

  When You Think Others Are Not Good Enough

  Growing up, my parents had house rules which they expected all of the children to follow. Naturally, being a bit of a rebel during my early teens, I often broke these rules. I remember using the negative comparison method on mother as a means to get my way. When, for good reason, she wouldn’t allow me to do some activity or attend some concert or party, I’d tell her: “Why can’t you just be like other mothers? Why do you have to be so strict?” Looking back, this harsh comparison must have hurt my mother, especially because her rules came from a place of love, from a desire to protect. She had my best interest in mind. And me, well…I just wanted my way.

  Every girl understands the pain of being compared to others. We understand the damage it causes to our sense of self-worth because we’ve experienced it, which is why it’s also important to ask ourselves if we’ve ever turned the tables and been the ones who made comparisons. If so, we are guilty of inflicting the same sense of inadequacy that we’ve felt onto others.

  I once knew a family with two girls: Emma and Adriana. Emma was married to the type of man that many girls hope to meet—protective, loyal, hard-working, ambitious, generous, humorous and great with children. Adriana, who was unmarried, was constantly fixating upon Emma’s relationship, telling herself that she wouldn’t settle for or be content with a young man who didn’t have all the qualities that Emma’s husband had. Adriana’s relationships suffered as a result; they always ended in breakups. Perhaps her relationships would’ve ended in breakups either way, but perhaps one might’ve worked out if she had simply stopped comparing her boyfriends to Emma’s husband, trying to discern if they had all the qualities that she desired and criticizing them if they did not.

  Few things damage a young man’s confidence in himself as much as being compared to other young men, especially if the person comparing him is the girl he loves. The reason for this is that every man wants to be admired. If we are constantly criticizing him for what he isn’t instead of admiring him for what he is, he might lose the motivation to improve. He might grow distant and start to resent us. He might even fall out of love with us.

  While it’s necessary to have standards, it’s also necessary to be realistic. And the reality is that all human beings are imperfect. If we can’t leave room for other people’s imperfections, how can we expect them to leave room for ours? It would be unfair to have a fifty-page checklist that a girl must meet before we’re friends with her, or that a young man must meet before we date him.

  Of course, there are fundamentals—such as complimentary life goals and similar religious beliefs—that we might require in friend or boyfriend, but when it comes to the details, we must accept their imperfections and appreciate them for all the good qualities that they do have. In doing so, our friend or boyfriend might even end up developing the extra good qualities that we want.

  No one is perfect. Despite what Adriana believed, Emma’s husband wasn’t perfect, even if he appeared so from the outside. Every friendship, every romance has its trials and struggles. The biggest difference between successful and unsuccessful relationships—no matter if the relationship involves family, friends or romance—is how we deal with the trials and struggles.

  When You Think Others Are Good Enough

  (And It Makes You Better)

  The reason I have specifically used the term “negative comparison” in this chapter is because I wanted to make it clear that not all comparison is destructive. In fact, certain types of comparison are healthy. Perhaps you know or have seen from afar someone who you greatly admire. You look up to this person as a role model and have a desire to adopt their good qualities. Your reaction isn’t jealousy, inadequacy or despair, but a strong motivation to become better. In this case, comparison can be a path to personal improvement and even success. It should never be discouraged.

  At the end of the day, none of us gain by desiring, but by doing. If we direct our time, energy and motivation towards developing our unique qualities and strong suits, we will never remain stagnant or regress. We will always be moving ahead. Of course, it’s inevitable that all of us will stumble a bit along the way. But sometimes it helps to remember that we’re not alone. Of the three and a half billion girls who currently exist in this world, the vast majority of them will, at one point or another, struggle with the exact same feelings of doubt, frustration and inadequacy that we do.

  3

  “There is no doubt; even a rejection can be the shadow

  of a caress.”

  —José Ortega y Gasset

  Taking the Bitter Pill

  Not a single girl I know has avoided rejection. All of them, even the kindest, prettiest and most talented girls, have been forced to taste this bitter pill. Sometimes, I’m shocked to discover that they have experienced rejection, for they seem perfect—or at the very least, they seem worlds above me. I used to deny the possibility that there was a good reason for their rejection, and believed that the fault must lie with the company that didn’t hire them or with the person who rejected them. But I can see now that, at least in some cases, I was wrong. The reality is that we’re not always going to be wanted in return by who and what we want. It’s not to say that we can never develop the necessary skills or attributes to overcome rejection and become successful, it’s just that we’re not always going to be in a position to get the things we want exactly when we want them.

  I’ve been rejected more times than I can count. I’m embarrassed to admit that my first reaction to rejection was something along the lines of, “Well, I don’t want your acceptance anyway.”

  This reaction was obviously false, and I didn’t truly mean it, but it was a way to compensate for the feelings of inadequacy that followed, which culminated in a desire to retreat into myself, into a shell of safeness and self-pity where I could comfort my ego. Of course, whenever we break down and allow ourselves to act in such a manner, it becomes all the more difficult for us to revive our motivation.

  Like many girls, I struggle with pride. But being prideful doesn’t make us bad girls; it just makes us flawed. The largest danger of pride in regards to rejection is when we allow pride to blind us to the cause of our rejection. For example, we might aspire after a certain job, but lack the necessary qualifications. Or perhaps we might want to date a certain young man, but lack the qualities he desires in a girlfriend. If we allow ourselves to become blinded by pride, the result is a failure to see our own shortcomings. And if we fail to see our own shortcomings, how can we improve?

  I’ve received a lot of good advice concerning dealing with rejection over the course of my life, but two pieces stand out above the rest.

  1st Piece of Advice:

  Sometimes the Signs Say Go Forward

  View rejection as an opportunity to improve—like another rung on the ladder to climb, a challenge, that, once overcome, makes us stronger. If we can view rejection in this way, then we will always move forward.

  Depending on the situation, we might need to improve our characte
r, our intellect, our physical appearance or even our spiritual side. While it can be difficult, it would actually be worse for us in the long run if we achieved everything we wanted on our first attempt. Imagine being rewarded with a trophy for every competition you participated in, regardless of having won or lost. Imagine being freely given every opportunity you ever strived for, not because you earned the opportunity, but simply because you desired it. Imagine achieving all the success you ever dreamed of on a whim.

  Sounds tempting, right?

  The problem with instant gratification is that human beings require conflict in order to grow. Without struggle, there is no satisfaction in victory. Without working hard for success, how can we feel that we’ve earned the reward? Accomplishment achieved through work and sacrifice is vital to deep and lasting appreciation. It is also vital to personal growth. When a girl views all of her actions as “perfect,” she does not have motivation to improve any aspect of herself or her life. She becomes content with stagnancy. With mediocracy. Not to mention, if there ever were to come a point in her life when she is rejected, she wouldn’t know how to handle it. She would despair.

  Think about all the successful girls you know. At times, it might seem like they have it all. High-powered careers. Charm. Talent. Beauty. Wealth. I can assure you that the majority of these girls walked a road of rejection before arriving at this point. Beneath the glitz and the glamour lies a memory vault of struggle that only they are privy to. In fact, it was this very struggle which eventually led them to success. The rejection they suffered might have been big or it might have been small. The difference is that, in the face of conflict, these girls didn’t quit.

  I think the most honest way to view success is as a series of rejections, without which a person never would’ve been able to reach the goal they strove for. Regard each rejection as a step, and if you’re able to overcome all the steps, eventually you’ll reach the top rung of the ladder.

  2nd Piece of Advice:

  Sometimes the Signs Say Make a Turn

  Consider rejection as a redirection to alternative opportunities. Imagine life as a series of paths marked with sign posts, but sometimes the signs appear in a vague form, not quite distinguishable as signs. For example, say you’re walking a path that abruptly ends with a wall. Depending on the situation, you might be meant to regard the wall not as an obstacle, but as a cue pointing you in an alternative direction.

  From the age of fifteen, my life dream was to be a science-fiction and fantasy writer. Being ambitious, I aspired to be more than an average writer, one whose books spoke to people on a level deeper than entertainment. I wanted to be able to write every day, to sit in silent unification with my stories, making a full-time career out of my craft. Nine years of working towards this dream passed, and in those nine years, I received over two-hundred rejection letters from literary agents. Each rejection letter felt like a new mountain I had to climb. Of course, some of the rejections hurt more than others—for example, when I was close to success. Normally, a writer is required to submit five or ten pages to a literary agent; the agent reads the submission, and if they enjoy it, they will request the writer’s full manuscript. Depending on what the agent thinks of the full manuscript, they will either make an offer to represent the writer or reject them.

  Whenever a literary agent requested my full manuscript, I wasn’t able to sleep for days. I would pace around my house with a strange combination of nervousness and excitement, hopeful that every new email I received was the one I was waiting for. During these times, self-doubt crept in, corroding the calm demeanor I tried so hard to uphold. I would repeatedly think things like: Maybe the agent didn’t receive my work. Maybe my manuscript email was lost. Maybe the agent hates my work and just tossed it out.

  Finally, the long-expected email arrived, but not with the decision I had hoped for.

  These rejections were devastating. They often made me question whether I was even any good. Fortunately, in difficult times I had support from my loved ones, who saw the potential in me when I couldn’t see it in myself. At my lowest points, it was solely due to this encouragement that I overcame the temptation to give up and continued pursuing my goals.

  In hindsight, I’m thankful for each and every rejection I received because they motivated me to improve my writing craft. Had my stories been accepted and published upon first submission, I can honestly say it would have been a disaster—especially in regards to my first novel. Like most amateur writers, back then I thought my first novel was a masterpiece. Let’s just say that I’m thankful that this manuscript never made it out into the world.

  Undoubtedly, the most important reason I’m thankful that my stories were never published in the mainstream industry is that, had I been accepted by a traditional publishing house and joined the ranks of successful authors, I likely never would’ve joined political YouTube. Yes, I might’ve had a desire to become politically active, but I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to do so. I would’ve been too bogged down and consumed with writing more books, meeting deadlines, participating in book tours and attending author-related events.

  Even more importantly, I never would’ve met my fiancé, for we met due to the fact that we’re both political activists. No life in this world, no matter the level of success it offered, could ever even remotely compare to a life with him.

  Hope isn’t always easy to find. I admit that I’ve had days so burdened by hopelessness that I was unable to see a brighter future. I truly wanted to give up. On the other hand, I’ve also had hopeful days, brightened by the mysterious feeling that I was meant to end up with a certain person or in a certain place. Perhaps you’ve experienced this feeling, too. Whether you believe in God or in some kind of destiny, it’s possible that all those rejections were sent to guide you there.

  Dispensing the Bitter Pill

  On the day when everything should have gone right, everything went wrong.Thomas was late. Snow crunched under his shoes as he sprinted into the metro station, a briefcase in one hand and his dry cleaning in the other. He elbowed his way down the crowded escalator, his swinging arms knocking a shopping bag from someone’s grasp.

  “Sorry,” he said, holding out his hands in apology.

  “Watch where you’re going.”

  Turning, he sprinted through the station towards platform twelve. Just as he cleared the last stair on the platform, he bit off a curse. The train was leaving, its gears squealing as it glided over the magnetized tracks. He slowed to a jog, then to a walk, his stomach sinking with every step. The train sped away, its taillights winking in the dark tunnel.

  “Not tonight,” he said in frustration. “Any night but tonight.”

  An elderly woman, who was sitting on a nearby bench reading the latest issue of the New York Post, smiled at him through thick-rimmed glasses.

  “Everyone misses a couple of trains a year,” she said. “Sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes it’s not. The question is: are you going to be late for something important?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mmm…” She gave him a glance-over, her dark eyes inspecting his outfit: awhite button-down shirt under a navy cardigan, with brown dress shoes scuffed from wear.“A well-dressed guy like you doesn’t own a car?” she inquired.

  “I don’t drive.”

  “I see. Where are you headed?” she asked.

  “Midtown.”

  “Next train is in twenty minutes.”

  Thomas consulted the train info boards. The next train bound for Midtown did indeed depart in twenty minutes. He could not wait that long. It wasn’t the first metro he’d missed that night. The first had left without him back in Upper Manhattan where he attended university. Before that, his professor held him up at the lab.

  Thomas checked his wristwatch. He could make it, but he would have to run fast. “Have a good night,” he said to the woman.

  Out in the chill night air, he jogged to the nearest street corner, hailed a cab, and joined the stream of bu
stling traffic that flowed through every part of the city. As the cab skirted and jerked through the column of cars, he kept a close eye on the time, his shoe tapping impatiently against the floor mats. Ten minutes later, the traffic jam had thickened and showed no sign of letting up soon. He was going to be late. Running on foot the remainder of the way seemed like the best option at this point.

  “I’ll just get out here,” he told the cabbie. “Thanks.”

  Let out on the curb, Thomas ran. He ran all the way to Midtown—a twelve-minute sprint that left him winded, his shirt collar damp with sweat. He slowed to a brisk jog before a sorry apartment complex, naked of trees, with trash cans overturned outside and a busted street lamp. He was running again by the time he entered the building and headed down the hallway to his ground-floor apartment. He spotted his neighbor, Mrs. Dekker, waiting outside his door.

  No. He didn’t have time for this.

  “Tom,” she said, perking up. “I’ve been waiting—”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Dekker,” he intervened. “But I really haven’t got the time tonight.”

  “Please. It’ll only take a second. It’s my back,” she explained. “It still hurts and I can’t lift trash bags into the dumpster.”

  Thomas checked his watch again and sighed. “Sure, I’ll help,” he agreed.