Girl Warrior, Feminists in Action and other local groups have done a lot of positive work in the way of empowering young women. I am in awe of how many women in this community have come together to make strides for feminism and women’s issues. 
But as I attended BRAWL — Baton Rouge Arm Wrestling Ladies — last week, I began to feel uncomfortable. I started to worry that maybe we’ve taken girl power so far that we’re accepting it in the place of feminism.
I was surrounded by females putting on a show, although for a good cause, and the only males who participated were feminine in character.
Don’t get me wrong — I understand that gender expression is fluid. I am very well aware that the way those men expressed themselves was their’s to choose. But when I searched for other types of male-feminist expression, I couldn’t find any.
In America, Lisa Frank stickers are a rite of passage. Along with icons such as Beyonce, I Can Be President Barbie and The Cheetah Girls, our generation grew up during a time when girls were being celebrated through girl power.
When I was a young girl, my mother rejected Barbie, saying that the toy gave an unrealistic body image ideal to young girls. At the time that seemed unfair, but now I’m thankful.
My mother encouraged everything that I did. When I hated ballet, she let me quit and try softball instead. When I traded that for robotics, it was no issue. In high school, I complained about flute being too frilly, and she allowed me to switch to French horn. 
Not once while raising me, did she ever seem to let my gender affect my choices. She encouraged me through childhood, educated me during puberty and celebrated me for my accomplishments. She taught me that I was strong because of who I was, not just because I was a girl.
Yes, I was female, but I was more than that.
When I first became interested in gender issues, it was from outrage. Even with that outrage, there was a time when I rejected the label of “feminist.” I felt that to say I was a feminist was to say that I believed I was better than men. 
I am not comfortable saying I am better than anyone.
That’s the unfortunate, negative connotation that shadows feminism in this world. The idea that if you identify as a feminist you are saying you believe you are better than men.
In “Teaching Feminism,” an online publication which focuses on stories of gender equality in the classroom, one user spoke about telling her students she was a feminist. After that class period, one of her students approached her and asked her, point blank, why she thought women were better than men.
She later said, “It’s no surprise that people believe this about feminism. We spend a great deal of time championing women.”
Right there, we can see that the bitter notion of the “man hating feminist” isn’t developed over many years of young men feeling rejected by empowered women — it’s taught from a young age.
While I do believe in encouraging young girls, because they will continue to face gender-based obstacles, it is important to let them, along with young boys, know that they are more than their gender expression.
I’m worried, and it’s not because I don’t want to offend anyone.
I’m worried that this idea of feminism being female and feminine will create a rift too large to be anything but harmful for the overall goal of feminism—gender equality.