My Feminine Transformation: From “One of the Boys” to the Woman I Am Today

A feminine transformation feels like a sensitive thing to write about because “feminine” is such a loaded word. What is feminine? What isn’t? Why was I not feminine in the first place? Why am I more feminine now? The truth of the matter is every woman is on her own kind of feminine journey. I don’t want to attack the journeys other women are on by telling my own story. But this is my story, and I hope it can inspire girls like me to tap into that gentler, softer side of themselves.

Wrestling with femininity from a young age

When I was in first grade, I decided to dislike the color pink. I remember this moment vividly because up until that point my favorite colors were, in order, purple and pink. But one day, as I was getting ready for school, I decided that pink was for girly girls, and I was absolutely not, under any conditions, a girly girl. So my second favorite color from that moment forward was blue.

I knew for certain I wasn’t a girly girl, but I felt uncomfortable labeling myself as a tomboy because I did connect with some girly things. I loved ponies, played with Barbies, danced ballet, and even though I claimed to dislike the color pink, I owned a wide variety of pink shirts. I decided I was a “tom girl”—not quite a girly girl, not quite a tomboy, but a category all my own.

Enter my Boy Scout Era (Technically Venturing)

For most of my life, I have continued this odd dance of embracing my femininity in small, hidden ways while simultaneously tossing it in the garbage can. Growing up, my family was active in Boy Scouts because of my dad and older brother, but I had to be part of Girl Scouts, which I hated (Looking back on it, I have a lot of positive thoughts about Girl Scouts, but it wasn’t for me when I was in high school). At Boy Scout camp, we slept in tents, shot BB guns, and made rockets. At Girl Scout camp, we slept in air-conditioned cabins and made crafts. When I was in third grade, my Girl Scout troop organized a campout, but because the cabins were full, everyone left at night rather than stay in a tent. Everyone except me, my mom, my sister, and our best friend. As a grown woman I’m not going to make the case that one is better than the other, but as a little girl I had a strong preference for what felt more adventurous.

When I was fourteen, I joined Venturing—a coed branch of Boy Scouts before Boy Scouts became coed—and I finally felt at home. I got to do all the things I dreamed of doing and I left Girl Scouts in the dust. In Venturing, I became a lifeguard at my local Boy Scout camp, the first female leader of our summer leadership training (shout out to NYLT and my NYLT staffers if you ever read this), and even the first girl to lead our summer camp staff (Let’s go, Camp Perry! Oldest Boy Scout camp in Texas). I was even interviewed by the local paper, and mothers would call the Boy Scout office saying they were inspired to put their daughters into Venturing because of my story.

I always felt like it was easier for me to get along with guys and I’d regurgitate the classic “girls are too catty” line whenever someone asked me why. I always felt like a square peg in a round hole in school, but when I was at my local Boy Scout camp, I was home. I didn’t wear makeup or do my hair or care about the clothes I wore. Instead, I learned how to shoot, fish, backpack, canoe, sail, and survive in the outdoors. I had never before felt so raw and real and myself. I had never felt so beautiful. The wind in my hair, sun kissed, wild, and free. There is something about authenticity that is so inherently attractive, and I never felt more authentic growing up than when I was in the outdoors.

At school, I didn’t feel beautiful. I didn’t know how to style my hair. I couldn’t use eyeliner to save my life (I always ended up doing that weird thing where you draw a line through the center of your lid and it looked ridiculous. My fashion sense was made up of random things I found at TJ Maxx, Ross, and Walmart and I still love those stores now (especially TJ Maxx), but let’s just say my fashion sense was not the most coordinated at the time. The boys I liked didn’t like me back because they liked other, prettier girls. I never felt girl enough and so instead I decided to be one of the boys. My femininity felt amplified when I was surrounded by dudes.

And then came truly running with the boys

This discomfort persisted into college where I joined the Corps of Cadets. It feels so weird to talk to my current friends about this part of my life because I feel like I have changed so much since then. But joining the Corps was the culmination of my journey to become one of the boys. I did push-ups, ran every morning, slicked back my hair into a tight bun for class, and made myself as stiff and sharp as I could possibly be. I became as fit as I’ve ever been, and at my peak, I could run a mile in just under eight minutes. We’re talking like 7:58, but hey, it happened! 🙂

I don’t want what I’m about to say here to sound ungrateful because I met a lot of amazing people during my time in the Corps and I have a lot of respect for it as one of Texas A&M’s oldest institutions. I don’t think I’d be the woman I am today without the memories I made and the people who helped me along the way. But some of my experiences in the Corps were painful, and I don’t look back on all of it fondly. I’m still trying to sort out if I would recommend it to girls coming after me and there’s a lot of healing I’m trying to do from that part of my life. I also don’t want to generalize and say every woman who pursues an experience like this is running from her femininity, because I met many beautiful and feminine women in the Corps. But the thing is I was running. I couldn’t lose the soft parts of my soul quick enough.

And the crazy thing is it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for the people around me, who measured my abilities against those of a typical male cadet, and it wasn’t enough for me. Every single year I got passed up for leadership positions and every single year I worked harder and harder to prove that I was that girl, to prove that I could run faster, yell louder, be stronger. But I was never what they wanted and the more I chased things that weren’t authentic to who I was, the less I felt like who I wanted to be. I was too soft to be cold and too stiff to be delicate. Slowly, I watched the girls closest to me drop out or graduate until I truly felt like the only woman in a sea of men.

And then came the pandemic!

If you’ve read any of my other content, you know the pandemic was transformational for me (as it was for most people). It happened halfway through my junior year and I made a huge decision. I switched units in the Corps, which was like switching families. This is one of the decisions that completely changed the trajectory of my college experience in both good ways and bad. It sounds silly and if you weren’t a part of an organization like that it won’t make sense, but there are people who never spoke to me again and friendships that were strained despite our best efforts to keep them in tact. While I wish things didn’t turn out like this, I’m glad I made the choice because it gave me a chance to decide what kind of woman I wanted to be.

During those months of remote learning at home, I remade myself. For the first time in my life, I decided I didn’t want to be one of the boys anymore, and I haven’t been one of the boys since. I studied beauty, fashion, and etiquette, learning things I had never tried before. I wore dresses and skirts and heels constantly (not saying this is required of femininity, but I noticed I felt most comfortable in these types of clothes). I let my boyfriend open doors for me, something I was adamantly opposed to before, and I started cultivating female friendships, which I had mostly neglected during my time in college.

Final Thoughts

I want to write another post about tangible ways I became more feminine because I loved reading those lists when I started this journey in 2020. But my goal here is to show you that the journey happened. Some girls know how to style their clothes and do their hair from the moment they turn thirteen. Some of us don’t figure it out until our twenties, and some of us are still figuring it out. I cannot operate a curling iron to this day and I still don’t know how to blend bronzer or contour. But I’m okay with that. Maybe one day I’ll get there.

I have pruned the parts of myself that are harsh, aggressive, and sharp. I have rounded out my edges to become softer, gentler, and more peaceful. Not because anybody told me I had to but because I wanted to feel comfortable in my own skin and I finally do. My feminine journey isn’t about becoming some other woman. It’s about no longer suppressing the woman I naturally want to be. I’m not afraid of the color pink anymore, and I don’t care if people think my flowy dresses are too much. This is my feminine transformation and I’ve never been happier.

This is my story. I’d love to hear about your journey too in the comments below.

Verily,

Kyrie