How Funny Women on TV Helped Me Embrace My Insecurities [Guest Poster: Ashvini]

Since I was a child, there have been certain phrases repeated to me about how I should sit, how I should laugh, what tone I should speak with, how I should look, what I should wear, and how I should eat. And let me tell you, I have never listened. Not once. If someone told me to laugh more “gracefully” or “quietly,” I would just laugh louder. If someone told me to close my legs while I was sitting, I would just widen my stance. I don’t think that I saw what I was doing as rebellion when I was younger; I just hated being told what I should be like, and I wanted to do the opposite of what I was being told to do. I just wanted to be me. I liked me. I still really do.

But because I was asked to hide those parts of myself, I became self-conscious of them as I grew older. My teens were not the most stable times, emotionally and physically. I was always very aware of the flaws that people had told me I had, and my reflex had become to cover them up. Be someone I wasn’t. Looking back, that reality is heartbreaking.

However, television has always been therapeutic for me. It helps me cope with things; it really does. When I go through depressive bouts, I know my favorite, most comforting shows are there for me in an instant — and having that gratification is important. I overcame some of my deepest insecurities through just growing up, but I was helped in part by television characters. Namely female television characters who taught me that being yourself — however flawed people may view that person to be — is about embracing those deep insecurities. Not hiding them.

Often the most compelling of these characters were in the comedy genre. Comedians do the craziest things to land a joke, to make people laugh, and to make some kind of overarching cultural point; to do these things well, you have to possess a very small amount of shame and a very large amount of audacity. There is absolutely no shortage of wonderful examples of female characters on television who possess that funny quotient. But more than that, by not caring about how ridiculous they looked or sounded, they did something incredible: they embraced their characters full-force, insecurities and all.

Here are just a few of those women who provided me with the most profound therapy.

Deandra “Sweet Dee” Reynolds (Kaitlin Olson)

I think of a character like Dee Reynolds on It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. She’s clearly an exaggeration of the worst kind of woman, but Dee is allowed to be herself. Yeah, she is pretty terrible, but she also doesn’t hold anything back. She’s written to be just as abrasive and offensive as the rest of “the gang,” which is primarily comprised of men.

Dee gets to be weird, gross, loud, irrational, and have a temper. And instead of those traits being written off as flaws, these characteristics instead comprise a large part of who she is. Dee says what’s on her mind — however misinformed or illogical — but she says it with this brash confidence that not a lot of female characters are afforded. I like that Dee has rough edges and isn’t nice; I like that she doesn’t have a moral compass, that she gets to be mean, with her middle fingers up to the world. The character has jarring flaws and massive insecurities, but whether this is purposeful or not, they are blatant. They aren’t hidden — they’re just a part of who she is, and she kind of goes with it.

Throughout the show she is forced to embrace the darkest parts of her persona. By and large, she fails at her attempts to become a better person — or a more normal one — and accepted by society. But yet, in the twisted world of “the gang,” she is able to thrive in some ways. She survives and is on top, and that is something. Often, female characters on TV aren’t afforded full-fledged complexity. They can’t be more than one thing; they’re either good or bad. So for Dee to waver in her morality and be given a deep complexity is rare and so very compelling to watch. For a woman like that to be recognized and accepted by the people in her world is astounding and inspiring for me. I hope Kaitlin Olson knows that her interpretation of Dee Reynolds has given me strength, however odd that may be.

Because of Dee, I’m unafraid of the darkest parts of who I am. I struggle with them, yes, but at the end of the day I don’t hide them. And also don’t shy away from being mean or selfish; I don’t put pressure on myself to be nice, or kind, or sweet. I don’t act how others want me to. I act like myself, wearing my scars on my sleeve, disinterested in anyone’s opinion but mine. It’s very freeing.

Dee’s most notable episodes: “The Gang Gets Whacked, Parts 1 & 2,” “The Gang Hits the Road,” “The Waitress Is Getting Married,” “Sweet Dee Gets Audited,” and “The Gang Broke Dee”

Elaine Benes (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) 

Then there’s Elaine Benes from Seinfeld. Oh, Elaine Benes. I’m pretty sure I owe at least 40% of my personality to her. Elaine is kind of morally ambiguous, but she knows what she’s about. She can be contrite, shallow, and vain but she maintains a vulnerability that made me sympathize with her. When she was yelling at people in anguish at their stupidity, I was right there yelling with her.

What I’ve always loved about this character is her attitude toward men; she is very particular about how she communicates with them, presents herself to them, and chooses to pursue relationships with them. But the bottom line is that it’s very clear she is always the dominant one. She’s in control of who she is, especially when men are involved. There’s always this notion that to be in love, to be happy in a relationship, you have to lose control. That sometimes, you cannot have your way and that you have to settle; I don’t care for this notion, but it’s a popular one that’s presented in TV over and over again. However, throughout the run of Seinfeld, Elaine never settles. She’s impatient and impulsive, often in her relationships with other people, but her attitude of simultaneous disinterest and attentiveness toward men is fascinating. She wants men, but on her terms, and her terms only; this made a powerful impression on me.

Coming from more of a patriarchal family structure, I’ve always been admonished for being loud, aggressive, brash, and sometimes too confident that it comes off as “too manly.” I’ve been told that my handshake is too strong. I’m not kidding. My response to people who suggest these things to me is always immediate shock. Why is strength, why is dominance, why is confidence only reserved for men? It’s outrageous to think that only men are capable of these encompassing these traits when some of the most dominant people in my life are women. And because of my family background, my attitude toward men has always seemed alien to those closest to me, like a flaw that they need to fix. As if hegemonic institutions like marriage aren’t man-made; as if the world would explode if I didn’t follow rules that everyone before me has followed.

When I told my mom that I didn’t want to get married, she was speechless. But how, she said, are you going to have children? I told her that I didn’t even know if I wanted children, and again, she was flabbergasted. Still, she struggles with how I want to live my life, as open and caring as she is. The reality is that she was raised in a society that depended on heteronormative traditions and anything diagonal to that seemed unusual and un-allowed. The thing is, I don’t care. It is ultimately my life, and how I want men to be involved in it, is up to me. No one else. Watching Elaine be a sex-positive, independent, self-supporting woman was important to me for that reason. Because of Elaine, I know that my independence is something to be valued and there’s absolutely no man that can get in the way of that. And despite what people may say, it’s not blasphemous. It’s a reassurance that your worth isn’t dependent on someone else.

Elaine’s most notable episodes: “The Pony Remark,” “The Stall,” “The Subway,” “The Opera,” “The Soup Nazi,” and “The Beard”

Rachel Green (Jennifer Aniston) 

Rachel Green was deemed to be a lot of things on Friends: selfish, greedy, bratty, a princess, a daddy’s girl, and boy-crazy to name the most obvious. But she’s also kind, sensitive, practical, and brave. It’s take an immense sense of self to leave an entire life of wealth and security behind to start over again because you know you deserve something more fulfilling, something more challenging. Just... something more.

Rachel being a runaway bride is a point of laughter for the audience; it’s something that’s brought up over and over again throughout the run of Friends. Yes, it is funny. Any instance where you encounter a bride running desperately into a coffee shop is absurd. No argument there. But I think people sometimes miss the whole point of Rachel’s character, because it’s easier to write her off as an airhead.

Sure, Rachel is not conventionally intelligent. She often falls asleep, intentionally and unintentionally, when being lectured on something she is ignorant to. She’s interested in seemingly superficial things like fashion, makeup, and gossip. And her aesthetic interest in men is impressive. Yet to me, all of these things that encompass Rachel are relatable. Often, when I was young, I had a difficult time learning things at the same pace as my peers; math and science were not my strong suits. Among my family of geniuses, I felt like the black sheep, spending my time reading Teen Vogue, watching endless hours of TV, and writing furiously about my crushes of the week in my diary. This obvious difference between me and people who were deemed as “smart” created some deep insecurities for me, that still bring me to tears to this day. I always felt so dumb and useless, like I had no skills. Like I had nothing to offer the world.

It wasn’t until later on, in my later high school years, that I knew my true intelligence stemmed from my personal strength and my ability to keep fighting for myself when I thought I was drowning in my own uncertainty. Rachel is strong for the same reason — she fought for herself, over and over again, proving herself where it counted. And she came out of the other confident, capable, and happy. It didn’t how much people ridiculed her, tried to derail her dreams, and cheered for her failure. She always pushed through. And she was able to be smart, because she simply was. She had an incredible spirit that always shone.

Rachel Green helped me overcome my doubts about my intelligence. Now, I find that kindness, courage, and bravery have more weight than anything else.

Rachel’s most notable episodes: “The One With Ross’s New Girlfriend,” “The One Where Ross and Rachel Take A Break,” “The One With The Cat,” “The One With Rachel’s Crush,” “The One With The Fake Party,” “The One Where Rachel Smokes,” “The One With Rachel’s Book,” “The Where Rachel is Late,” and “The One With Rachel’s Other Sister”

Jackie Burkhart (Mila Kunis) 

There’s a part of me that is happy living a vain life — a life filled with things and nothing else. In the words of Tom Haverford, “Love fades away. But things? Things last forever.” I recognize that my need to possess pretty objects come from a deeper dissatisfaction with aspects of my life, my romantic endeavors more specifically.

Throughout the run of That 70’s Show, Jackie Burkhart is desperate for a steady boyfriend. One who is faithful, loyal, obedient, and someone who is preferably able to buy her nice things; for the first four seasons, this someone is the adorably helpless and profoundly immature Michael Kelso. In the first couple of seasons, the audience is to believe that that is due to her vanity, and her privileged upbringing. But by season five, we see a change in Jackie. She has lost literally everything — she no longer has Kelso by her side, her father is in prison, her mother has left the country to go flitting around South America, and thus she has no home. Her life is in shambles, so naturally the one thing she craves is stability. She finds this in Hyde, who I personally believe was her true first love. Because of Hyde, the Foremans, Donna, and even Fez, she learns true humbleness, as much is possible for Jackie to learn. Some of the most vain things about her — her love of makeup, fashion, celebrity gossip, and obsession with herself and beauty in general — remain.

Yet, gaining principles and morals fleshes her out; she defines what kind of person she wants to be by surrounding herself with people who actually care about her and in turn she cares for them, and we see this reflected in her most difficult moments. One of these moments is during the Valentine’s Day episode of season five, where she breaks down in front of Hyde and ultimately confesses her love for him. It’s a show of vulnerability that the audience was rarely privy to during Jackie’s scenes and it’s one I’ll always remember. Her growing up took literal years, but what we got to see in the end of the show’s run, was a truly lovely person. Someone who wasn’t afraid of things she liked, but didn’t use them to hide. She just presented them to be a part of herself.

For someone like Jackie — and someone like me — we often take things that make us happy like sparkly dresses and glittery makeup and use it to define who we are because it makes our true wants and needs less desperate, less vulnerable, less bare for the world to see. Presenting ourselves to the world in a way that we are able to control is how we deflect. We choose what we want people to see about us and our true emotions are only revealed to those closest to us, in moments of ultimate breakdown.

I used to use makeup and fashion to hide parts of myself that I thought were ugly, undeserving, and scarred; I used to wear makeup for other people which became so damaging to my ego that I had to stop wearing makeup and being fashionable. I gave it up for years. I just recently started using makeup and delving into the fashion world again. But now, now I do it for myself and no else. I don’t use it to hide; instead I use these things to show people who I am, to present myself how I choose. I don’t think of it as hiding because I feel that by doing these things again, I’m presenting myself as my most vulnerable. After all of these years, I have defined for myself who I am, what my morality is, what my principles are. Just like Jackie, I grew up. And because of Jackie, I knew it was okay to take my time to do so.

Jackie’s most notable episodes: “That Disco Episode,” “Prom Night,” “Kelso’s Serenade,” “Cat Fight Club,” “Jackie Bags Hyde,” “Jackie Says Cheese,” “Black Dog,” “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You,” “Join Together,” and “Street Fighting Man”

Abbi Abrams and Ilana Wexler (Abbi Jacobson and Ilana Glazer) 

What I like about Abbi and Ilana is their willingness to be honest; they’re unafraid to be frank. It’s like a breath of fresh air. There’s a reason so many women my age relate to Abbi and Ilana. It’s because we see ourselves reflected in them, and all of their successes and failures, and their method of being completely blunt about what they experience as women. I see myself in them. They remind me of the take-no-crap girl I’ve always been. They’re unafraid to be honest and brutal about their experiences as women, and hearing them talk about sex, men, and periods (among other taboo topics) is so vindicating. There’s an infamous scene earlier on in the show, where Abbi and Ilana are walking down the streets of NYC late in the night, and they pass by an older man who tells them to “smile.” They turn around and tip their lips up with their middle fingers. It’s funny and so pleasing to watch, especially for someone who’s been in the same situation. In fact, that moment inspired something I did a couple of months ago.

I was at McDonald’s with some friends after a night out, waiting in line for my well-deserved McChicken sandwich and large fry order. Of course, I was wearing bar clothes and my face was masked in some Instagram-worthy makeup; I was balancing on some gorgeous heels that had been stabbing my feet all night and I had to pee really badly. All I wanted to do was get my food, go home, and stuff my face while watching Parks and Recreation. Basically, I was not in the mood for any funny business. I finally walked up to the cashier to retrieve my food and I knew right away from his smarmy grin that he was about to make me uncomfortable. While trying to pay as quickly as possible, he wouldn’t stop telling me that I was beautiful and that he wanted to see me smile.

I was beyond irritated. I was like, dude, I know I’m beautiful. I don’t need you to tell me that. And if I don’t want to smile, then I’m not going to. Period. But, this cashier was not understanding the subtleties of my bitter facial expressions. So I channeled Abbi and Ilana. I pried my food out of his hands, and when he asked me once last time to smile, I turned around and made the most disgusting face I was capable of. His grin dropped instantly and he left me alone. My friends cackled and I quietly thanked Abbi Jacobson and Ilana Glazer.

I know this moment, in the grand scheme of things, seems minute. Unimportant, even. And I have unfortunately been through worse harassment; but despite difficult moments minute or momentous, Abbi and Ilana help give me the strength to deal with skeevy weirdoes in ways that empower me and enable me to stand up for myself, rather than let these experiences be forgotten. Abbi and Ilana should know that because of their characters, I’m more honest about my annoyance with harassment and sexist microaggressions.

So I’m unafraid to put my middle fingers up.

Abbi and Ilana’s most notable episodes: Every single episode. Seasons 1-3, y’all.

Pamela “Pam” Beesly-Halpert (Jenna Fischer)

Sometimes my fear of taking risks is paralyzing. I can take risks, per say, but only calculated ones. When it comes to things like matters of the heart, I never take leaps because either someone is new to me, something seems challenging, or there’s no way of predicting the outcome. Or a hopeless combination of both. It’s just easier to run away, isn’t it?

Pam’s struggle with confronting her ever-growing feelings for Jim and disconnect with her fiance Roy, was emotional to watch. As an audience member, it was easy for me to yell at my TV screen, and want for Pam to break things off with Roy and pursue Jim. The choice was so glaringly obvious; her problems seemed completely solvable. But as I got older, and through more re-watches, I found myself gaining a deeper understanding of what Pam was going through with both men and more importantly, herself. She was confused, lost, angry, sad, and desperate. No one was there to help her through the unbearable situation. When it came to Roy, she was comfortable with him. She had known him since high school. Their relationship had no stakes, and she knew it wasn’t enough for her. Roy truly didn’t understand Pam and her complexities; their relationship was all surface level. But I get why she chose to stay with him. She stayed with him because it was easy — it was like running away from the weight of her problems. The longer she stayed with him, the longer she took to plan their wedding, the more time she had to hide, to ignore her true feelings. The more time she had to avoid dealing with everyone. That’s something I struggle with as well; it’s easier to walk away, to delay, to ignore, than it is to confront. Because when you confront yourself, you have to deal with the truths that you’ve spent possibly years burying. And my God, is that daunting.

Eventually Pam — in a moment of bravery — bares some difficult truths to Jim and the rest of the office, after swiftly walking across a walkway of coal Oprah Winfrey-style. It’s funny, it’s clumsy, and it’s beautiful. I cry every time I watch that scene. Because in that moment she takes a stand for herself and through that, she’s able to confront herself. You can see Pam having realizations while she’s talking to everyone; the momentum of her speech picks up, and the more and more she bares her soul, the wider her smile becomes. The peace she feels because of her confession is evident. It’s such an unbelievable relief when you choose to end your denial and deal with your problems. The weight off of your shoulders is heavy but the calm that follows is so worth it.

Of all of my insecurities, I work on dealing with this one the most. Every day I try to do something that will help me take leaps instead of avoid what’s challenging. Whether it’s to finally talk to the cute guy I’ve been crushing on for days or to talk to my boss about an idea I have, I really try not to run away because nothing comes out of "if." I think, what would have happened if Pam hadn’t word vomited her feelings to the entire office? Would she still be stuck in a cycle of misery and confusion? I would hope not, but I’m guessing that yes, she would’ve been stuck forever. She would’ve been at a standstill and never progressed, never gotten to go to art school or married Jim, or had the fearlessness to try her hand at sales, and invent her own position at Dunder Mifflin-Sabre.

I want to move forward with my life, always. Pam’s journey gave me the foresight to be honest with myself and take risks, because I’ll never know what I’ll miss if I don’t.

Pam’s most notable episodes: “The Dundies,” “Booze Cruise,” “Diwali,” “Women’s Appreciation,” “Beach Games,” “Fun Run,” “Dream Team,” “Michael Scott Paper Company,” “Broke,” “The Lover,” “Murder,” “Costume Contest,” “Lice,” and “Finale”

Conclusion

At 21, I’ve still yet to come to terms with my insecurities. Frankly, I don’t foresee them ever going away. Though I suppose that’s what it means to be human; you’re a reflection of everything that has happened to you, good and bad. Your insecurities are merely effects of the bad, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Instead, it’s more worthwhile to embrace them. There are things about myself that I have yet to embrace as well. I’m not sure what I want from life; I say I want to be a writer now, and I have wanted that ever since I can remember, but sometimes I think it would be easier to let my insecurities about who I am (which includes my future) drown me. But that’s a peek into my duality. I’m simultaneously a fighter and a loser. I never want to give up and I always want to love myself, yet there’s this tiny little voice scratching at the insides of my brain telling me that succumbing to my deepest, darkest insecurities is always a possibility, or an escape from the reality of growing pains. It’s that same tiny little, incessant voice that feeds my anxiety and depression.

The fighter in me is the exact opposite of this voice. She’s fueled by joy, love, curiosity, and coffee; she finds flowers aesthetically pleasing; she finds her most charismatic peace near roaring bodies of water; and she always wants to progress and mature. The fighter is my favorite part of myself, and really, she’s the strongest most enduring part of myself. How do I keep her alive, you may ask? I give her all of the support and care possible. I surround her with therapy — in food, in music, in people, and in TV. In fact, television is what keeps her going the most, I think. Not because it’s an escape, but because it lights her fire. The fighter is the one who wants to be a writer, who wants to work in television, so naturally watching it is one of her greatest methods of acceptance, of herself and of the world. That even includes the acceptance of the tiny little, incessant voice’s insecurities. I think that duality exists in everyone. There’s always an angel and devil sitting on your shoulders, trying to rule your life, making it sometimes unbearable to actually think clearly.

The funny, wonderful women I wrote about — both the characters and the actresses — provide me with an alternative to the normalized way society thinks. That I should be wary of how others perceive me whilst sacrificing my mental health, is one of those norms that I have experienced. Dee, Elaine, Rachel, Jackie, Abbi, Ilana, and Pam have shown me that accepting that norm is to disrespect myself and my journey. They have helped me see that embracing who I am, which includes my pesky insecurities, will help me grow and accept that even at my worst, those parts of me that I struggle with are the parts that make me human. And just because those parts aren’t pretty, aren’t lovely, aren’t graceful, that I am still deserving of kindness and respect.

That I am still deserving of love.

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Maddie's Pick: Top 10 Female Friendships on TV [Contributor: Maddie]

The way that television has portrayed female friendships has always been hit or miss, but last year did give us a variety of great female friendships on television that were complex, realistic, and a delight to watch. There are few qualifiers placed on this list: the writers had to actually show moments of friendship and not just slightly allude to them (sorry, Thea and Felicity from Arrow), they couldn’t be relatives, the list covers shows that I personally watch regularly, and is in no particular order.

I will admit I was a little disappointed when I realized how difficult it was to get to get to ten friendships. We live in a time where it is so important to have positive and nuanced depictions of female friendships represented onscreen, and I sincerely hope that is something that changes for the better in 2017.

For now, it is time to take a look at the female friendships that have blessed, and continue to bless, the television landscape.

1. Valencia, Rebecca, and Heather (Crazy Ex-Girlfriend)

Why They’re Friendship Goals: After everything that happened in 2016, I kind of want to live in “Friendtopia,” the imaginary dystopia where their friendship is so strong they literally take over the world set to an amazing homage to The Spice Girls. Zigazow! While female friendship is such a wonderful thing, it is also super complicated. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend has done a great job of showing the nuances, quirks, and social politics involved in a group of female friends. Moreover, Rebecca’s growing friendships with Heather and Valencia has been a great for her mental health, and is an important step in her personal development and quest for happiness. I love the dynamic with these three, and it’s been a highlight of this season.

2. Paula and Rebecca (Crazy Ex-Girlfriend)

Why They’re Friendship Goals: This year Paula and Rebecca’s friendship has been tested once it became clear that the pursuit of Josh is not the healthiest thing for Rebecca. Their boundary issues came to a head in the season one finale, which got the ball rolling for some really great dynamics in season two and some stellar performances from Donna Lynne Champlin and Rachel Bloom. It’s a great thing to see how these two characters do love each other, but because of that, they need to give the other some space to grow on their own. It hurt to watch them at odds, but it set the stage for a friendship that is deeper and more beneficial to both parties involved.

3. Jules and Ophelia (Sweet/Vicious)

Why They’re Friendship Goals: Pretty much from the pilot I knew that this was the start of a beautiful friendship. As soon as Jules and Ophelia belted out “Defying Gravity” in a post-murder carpool karaoke, I fell in love with this friendship. These young women are so different, but as the series has moved forward, Jules and Ophelia push each other to be their best selves with love and support. Veronica Mars fans may see shades of Veronica and Mac in these two when watching, and I mean that as a compliment of the highest order. Whether fighting alongside each other as they bring vigilante justice to campus predators or chatting over frozen yogurt, these two make a great team.

4. Claire and Misty (Luke Cage)

Why They’re Friendship Goals: Normally in a series of this genre, two female characters would be rivals for the heroe's affection or, at best, frenemies. However, one of the largest strengths of Luke Cage is how its female characters are written. Even though Misty has “had coffee” with Luke before, she and Claire work together without cattiness, and with mutual respect. I guess there is nothing like a hostage situation to bring people together. These are two smart, fiercely independent, and brave women, who we get to see form a kinship instead of a rivalry. The repartee in their dialogue was amazing to watch and I cannot wait to see how their dynamic unfolds in season two.

5. Jessica and Trish (Jessica Jones)

Why They’re Friendship Goals: Sometimes the greatest love story for a character isn’t romantic (although I can definitely see the argument for shipping these two). Jessica and Trish are each other’s person and family. Trish sees the hero in Jessica and is a major part of Jessica’s journey to overcoming her past and rising to heroism. Likewise, Jessica can only see that there is still good in the world through her bond with Trish, and she is the only person who Jessica can let in and be herself in all its messed up complexities. Their connection is the heart of the show, and I look forward to seeing them faces new challenges together in the show’s second season and in The Defenders.

6. Gabi and Sofia (Young and Hungry)

Why They’re Friendship Goals: So, Young and Hungry is my happy show, and likewise, Gabi and Sofia’s friendship is just fun. As someone in this age group, I think their dynamic is a great example of friendship in your early twenties. You have that friend who only has her stuff together only slightly more than you. Sometime we can get wrapped up in our own drama, but it is nice to have a friend who is there for you through it. In the season four finale, it was a great moment to see Sofia put her foot down and express how Josh and Gabi’s “will they/won’t they” cycle was taking its toll on her and then for Gabi to make her friendship with Sofia a priority over whatever she and Josh currently are. These two make me smile, and I can’t wait for my happy show to return and enjoy what shenanigans they are going to get into in when season five premieres.

7. Jess and Cece (New Girl)

Why They’re Friendship Goals: Over the years, I have loved Jess and Cece’s friendship. They balance each other perfectly and are a great example of how when you live far away from your family, the friends you make can create a family that you choose. This season shows how their dynamic has developed since Cece got married. Of course things are different, but they still have a bond that is going to last.

8. Peggy and Ana (Agent Carter)

Why They’re Friendship Goals: Seeing a healthy friendship on television between a married woman and one of her husband’s female friends is a rare thing to behold on its own. The fact that Agent Carter is a Marvel show and is set in the 40s makes Peggy and Ana’s dynamic all the more unique. Ana Jarvis could have easily been written as jealous; however, the first time we meet Ana, Peggy is straddling Jarvis mid-sparring session, and it becomes quickly apparent that Ana is different than what is expected of her. She is witty and filled with joie de vivre, and soon becomes a delightful addition to Peggy’s team. Peggy and Ana bond and become like family, which makes it all more heartbreaking when Ana got caught in the crossfire of Peggy and Jarvis’ adventures.

 There was so much more of their dynamic to explore, and I will forever be bitter about Agent Carter’s cancellation partially due to this wonderful new friendship we got to see in season two.

9. Mylene, Regina, and Yolanda (The Get Down)

Why They’re Friendship Goals: The Get Down is an incredible and often underrated show. I fell in love with the stories of these kids chasing their dreams. Mylene is such an interesting character, and her journey is shaped by her friendships with Regina and Yolanda. When Mylene is kicked out of her house for singing secular music, Yolanda and her family are the ones to take her in. These girls are there for each other through everything in a friendship as beautiful as their harmonies. Likewise, it is great to see a friend of young women who are carefree and filled with joy. It makes sense that they become a singing group instead of Mylene going solo. These girls are set to take the world by storm, but they will do it together.

10. Ginny and Evelyn (Pitch)

Why They’re Friendship Goals: Everyone needs a friend like Evelyn in their corner. We all need someone who will fight for us, but who we can also enjoy a girls night of laughter and gossip with. She is a force of nature, and I cannot sing her praises enough. Her friendship with Ginny is one of the highlights of Pitch for me, and one the reasons I need a second season of the incredible show.

I am excited to see more from these amazing friendships in 2017 and hopefully more shows will feature friendships like these. What female friendships on television do you enjoy? Let us know in the comments.

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Of Internalized Misogyny, Felicity Smoak, and the Importance of "Real" Fictional Female Characters

The vast majority of the comments that Just About Write receives are positive. In fact, I would venture to say that 95% of the over 2,500 comments on our site are constructive and thoughtful, even if they don’t agree with everything we say, point-by-point. And I love discussion, so I always welcome people disagreeing with what we say and how we view things.

But recently, there was a commenter on my Arrow review who talked about how she — yes, she — “hates most hate most women characters on TV.” This commenter then goes on to call female characters “nasty,” “ditzy,” “petty,” “heavily dependent,” “whiny,” “indecisive,” and “catty.” The commenter concludes with this statement: “Real women are not like this.”

Now, setting aside my complete and utter bewilderment that a woman like this actually exists and believes the vitriol she’s typed, that final part of her statement is one that really made for some beautiful irony. Of course real women are like that! Of course each and every one of us has been indecisive about something. We’ve all been catty (I’m saying this as a woman, because I know it’s true of myself — and I try not to be!). We’ve all whined, we’ve all depended on someone else — be it man, woman, friend, parent, loved one, etc. — to compliment us. We have all craved that human acceptance. And yet, for some reason, this commenter believes that real women are not flawed; and that TV characters who are or who make decisions that go against a standard “norm” are useless and worthless.

Moreover, she believes so strongly in this idea that women can only be valuable if they’re on The Walking Dead that she repeatedly uses language to tear other women down. Because this person did not believe in the decision that Felicity Smoak made in “Broken Hearts,” she demonstrated something extremely dangerous: internalized misogyny. Because a female character did something that this commenter disagreed with, she took it as permission to dismiss an entire gender. Apart from the fact that this person is clearly very confused and her remarks become less and less sensible with every word she types, I suspect that she’s not alone in her beliefs. I suspect that because I’ve seen it happen more and more recently in fandoms.

So let’s talk about female characters and, in particular, one character named Felicity Meghan Smoak. Because apparently it’s come to the point in 2016 in which I need to.

FEMINISM DOESN’T MEAN YOU HAVE TO LIKE EVERY FEMALE CHARACTER

There’s this startling idea that flits about fandoms, and it’s the notion that in order to be a feminist, you have to like every female character or — at the very least — you have to like them equally. And that’s simply not true. You don’t have to like Felicity Smoak. You don’t have to like Kara Danvers. You don’t have to like Clara Oswald or Abbie Mills or Rebecca Bunch or Olivia Pope or Alex Parrish or Clarke Griffin. Feminism doesn’t mean that every female you come across is inherently on everyone’s “good” list simply because they’re a female.

That’s why writing is so important.

After the little comment-fest on my Arrow review, I further solidified my belief that feminism is the radical idea that women are people — human beings – and deserve to be treated as such. They’re not footstools for men. They’re not emotional punching bags. They’re not pretty props to stand in the background and decorate a scene. They’re not meant to be one half of a ship, or a tool by which to further a male character’s growth. Female characters on television have value because they are PEOPLE. And it is the writers’ jobs on any television show in order to tell their story truthfully and well; just as well, in fact, as they would tell a male character’s story.

That’s where a lot of shows have been stumbling, if we’re really being honest. It’s not always the fault of the female character — it’s the fault of the writer for writing them badly. That is precisely why I so vehemently disliked Clara Oswald in this recent season (really, two seasons) of Doctor Who: the writers threw every shred of character development that made her so endearing, so strong, and so important out the window. They made her regress and become absolutely unbearable and erratic in the way she responded to people and situations. She became emotionally manipulative in her relationship with Twelve (to the point where I was legitimately concerned for people shipping them because of the levels of toxicity present), and the character became absurd and wildly out-of-character given everything we had known of her up until that point.

When the writing of women is bad, it's the characters who suffer.

In this circumstance, did I like Clara Oswald? Absolutely not. The way that she was written was appalling, and her characterization suffered. Am I a bad feminist because I dislike her? Nope. I don’t hate Clara because she’s a woman — I hated her, in the end, because the writers took a beautiful, intelligent young woman and turned her into nothing more than a prop in a relationship and a “twist” in a shoddy story. That’s a reason to get mad, friends! When the writing of women is bad, it’s the characters who suffer.

Disliking a female character is totally okay. But what’s not okay is spewing vitriol or supporting the degradation of them in celebration of a male.

And I think that’s what has bugged me so much about supporters of Oliver in this “baby mama drama” arc on Arrow. For the most part, I’ve seen pretty tame responses and reactions to his characterization and to Felicity’s response, especially after “Broken Hearts.” (I think mainly staying out of the catacombs of the fandom has helped me not lose my entire faith in humanity.)

But I’ve, just recently, literally seen tweets and Tumblr posts and review comments saying that Felicity deserves to apologize to Oliver for the way she behaved — that she should stop being so “whiny” or acting like a “bitch.” Essentially, with this reply, fans are claiming that it is irrational and unacceptable for a woman to express her emotions to a man and for her to make a decision that supports her emotional well-being over his. It’s okay for a man to walk away from a relationship with a woman, but if a woman makes the decision to walk away from a man, all hell breaks loose.

Because essentially what all of these commenters, reviewers, and apparent human beings are saying is that women, in this instance, are supposed to shut their mouths, look pretty, occasionally say some funny lines, and agree with everything the male says and how he treats her. THAT is what is detrimental to feminism, friends, and it’s this kind of thinking that is exceptionally dangerous. Because I understand that there are reasons Oliver lied to Felicity. I get that. I’m not stupid.

However, what I don’t understand is why his lies don’t deserve consequences when the lies of everyone else on this show (and in real life) have actual, lasting consequences.

If you lied to the police, withholding evidence that could help in a vital case, you would be tampering with an investigation. Your decision to withhold something is a conscious one, and it would have an impact on your life and the lives of those around you. Only a person who is out of their mind would say that they didn’t deserve a consequence or some form of punishment for their behavior. And yet, when male characters on television mess up, it’s the women who suffer the wrath of the Internet commenters and the misogynists who think that their role is subservient to the role of a man.

Could Felicity have stayed with Oliver? Sure, she could have. Would that have been in-character with everything we know to be true about her? No. Felicity has proven time and time again that she values honesty. And up until this baby mama drama, Oliver has messed up on occasion and lied, but has always proved his loyalty to her when it mattered. He trusted her; she was his partner, after all. But now, Oliver has a child that he hides from Felicity. Not only that, but he has this entire other piece of his life — a pretty giant piece, mind you — that Felicity is shut out of intentionally.

So think about it this way: you’re in a relationship with someone. You live together. You love this person and are about to marry them. But then you find out they have a child they didn’t tell you about. Moreover, your partner has told other people about this child before they told you. And after you learn of this child, your partner expresses the fact that they want you to be in the loop — they want you to be a part of every piece of their life and the child’s life. So you are still angry at the betrayal, but maybe your heart softens just a bit at this openness and total honesty about being included. That is, until you walk in on your partner making a decision about this child and not — once again — telling you in any way, shape, or form. You didn’t need to be making a decision with him, or holding his hand as he did. He didn’t need to ask your permission. You didn’t need to have any say in this child’s future.

All you needed from your partner was the assurance that you matter enough to him or her that they would tell you about this other big piece of their life — that they trusted you enough to tell you what was going on in their mind and heart.

So how might you feel, then, after discovering this slight? A bit stung and hurt? Betrayed? Manipulated?

That’s exactly how Felicity felt when she walked in on Oliver creating a tape for William without even mentioning it to her. “How much of that did you hear?” he asks, wearily, because once again Oliver has said Felicity is the most important thing to him, but keeps rebuffing her and pushing her aside as if she’s a nuisance, not a partner. Oliver waxes poetic about Felicity being the one he trusts most and his eternal partner, but that’s not really true at this point. The only person Oliver completely and totally trusts is himself. And you know what? Sometimes Oliver shouldn’t trust himself or his instincts. Because sometimes they’re just plain bad. But instead of inviting Felicity into a big part of his life — instead of showing her that she’s his partner rather than telling her — he shuts her out.

It’s like Oliver is holding out a set of keys to Felicity, and telling her that she has his whole trust and his whole future and his whole life... but he’s not loosening his grip on one key. You can’t really have someone’s complete and total trust if you’re constantly holding a key back from them. “Everything else you can have,” Oliver is essentially telling Felicity. “... But I can’t trust you with this.”

Ouch.

WHY WOMEN WHO EXPRESS EMTOIONS AREN’T WHINY

I express emotions by crying. A lot. I’ll cry at a great commercial (those of you who live in the southeast United States and have seen Publix commercials? Yup. They get me nearly every time), a cheesy rom-com, or a really powerful television scene. Thank goodness that not once in my life has someone seen me crying, walked up to me, pointed to my tears and said: “Stop whining. You can’t be a strong woman anymore if you do that.”

There’s this really weird, really problematic idea that people hold in their hearts and it’s that a strong woman is someone who doesn’t break down, who’s never scared, and who fearlessly faces zombies or monsters or evil villains with whatever weapon she’s proficient at. This is a problematic mindset, if you couldn’t tell, because it reduces women to physicality. It emphasizes one “strength” of a woman.

Let me ask you all something: is your favorite male character strong because of his physique? Is Captain America a hero because he has a cool shield? Are Superman and Batman heroic because of their costumes? Does Oliver Queen beg for us to like him and relate to him and care about him because he’s really good at shooting arrows into people? Of course not. That would be absurd. We care about these male characters because they embark on the typical hero’s journey, and they become better people, more resilient, and well-rounded because of it.

Well-rounded people — and well-rounded female characters — are not one-note. That’s literally the definition of well-rounded: “varied or balanced.”

But when Felicity Smoak expresses emotion on Arrow, suddenly she cries too much. She complains too much. “She should just be happy,” I’ve heard some people reason, “that she’s even there.” Well-rounded people — and well-rounded female characters — are not one-note. That’s literally the definition of well-rounded: “varied or balanced.” A character cannot be one thing all of the time. Imagine Arrow with John Diggle only bellowing his lines in anger. Apart from doing a number on David Ramsay’s voice, we would lose a lot of what makes Diggle such a great character — his compassion, his wisdom, his sarcasm — if he was simply angry!Diggle all the time.

And the same is true of female characters.

I don’t think they want to admit it, but the people who are calling Felicity names and who are irritated by the way she made an adult decision in walking away from a relationship in which she felt she was being mistreated (which, by the way, if you’re being mistreated in a relationship, you don’t owe ANYONE an excuse for walking away from something you feel is harming you) like their Felicity Smoak one-dimensional. They like her as the quirky blonde IT girl who wears pretty dresses and makes innuendos. Once Felicity begins making her own decisions — ones that counteract what a male decides for her — these people are appalled. How dare a woman tell Oliver off. How dare she walk away from a team that supported her. How dare she have an opinion of her value and her worth that contradicts Oliver’s.

How dare she. Really.

Here’s something that I briefly touched upon a few sentences ago: Felicity walks away from this relationship because she feels it is harming her more than it is helping her. I’ve known some people in real life who were able to forgive a partner who cheated, move on, and heal from that betrayal while remaining in the relationship. I know some people who cannot do that either because their partner is unwilling to change or they, themselves, are unable to heal from the wound that infidelity caused. Who is right in this circumstance: the person who stayed, or the one who walked away?

She needs to heal, and healing — in this instance — means walking away. And that’s okay, because it is HER decision and one that she did not take lightly.

Time’s up! The answer is BOTH. Both people did what they believed was best for them and their relationship. Some relationships can survive betrayals of trust like that and emerge stronger, as long as both parties are willing to compromise. Some cannot. Oliver is not willing yet to open back up his heart and trust to Felicity, and Felicity isn’t going to sit around, twiddling her thumbs, continuing to be lied to and kept out of the loop simply because Oliver says things will be different. She needs to heal, and healing — in this instance — means walking away. And that’s okay, because it is HER decision and one that she did not take lightly. She’s not being vindictive here. She’s not saying: “You hurt me, so I’m going to hurt you right back.”

She’s telling Oliver that in order to win back her trust, he’s going to need to prove he wants it, not with words but with actions. And it would be immensely cruel of her to be at his side, every single day, when he still loves her and she loves him. So she’s erasing herself from the narrative for now. And when she’s ready to reinsert herself into Oliver’s life, she will. But not until he proves that he deserves it.

Just like Eliza Hamilton made the decision in the musical Hamilton to put herself back in the narrative, so will Felicity Smoak. But it will be HER decision to make.

WOMEN DESERVE AGENCY. PERIOD.

The one positive thing that I will say about this whole horrendous “baby mama drama” on Arrow is that it gave Felicity agency. It didn’t strip her of her free will. The show may have done Felicity wrong in ways this season and last, but it let HER be the one to decide her fate. A decision wasn’t forced upon her. She wasn’t just the object of someone’s lie. She was the active participant, not a passive piece of scenery.

The moment that women make their own decisions in narratives rather than stories and things just happening to them, a section (surprisingly large) of people suddenly become annoyed. The character goes from being “strong” to “irritating,” or from “awesome” to “whiny.” Women don’t always make the right decisions. And that’s okay. I don’t agree with a lot of what Laurel Lance has done in the last few seasons. Do I think that she deserves to have the agency to make her own decisions, whether great or horrible? Yes. Absolutely. Laurel gets a lot of flak from the fandom. And I admit that I’m not always her greatest fan.

But I actually do appreciate her.

Because no matter how many times this woman gets knocked down, she’s stubborn and resilient and will keep picking herself back up. She’s often brash and irrational in the way that she does things. She can be reckless and selfish and you know what? That’s awesome. We need all kinds of female characters — from the ones who are selfless, to ones who are selfish; we need women who are snappy and witty and those who are gentler. We don’t need an entire show of Felicity Smoaks because not EVERY woman is like Felicity. Some women relate extremely well to Laurel. I, in fact, relate to the aspect of her character who is a big sister. That’s something that I connect with when it comes to her. I can’t relate to Felicity in this regard because she’s not a sibling or a protective older sibling. I am.

So we need women who break down and who get angry and who cry. We need women who kiss and who hug and who love with their whole hearts. We need women who are stubborn and selfish, ones who will kick and scream until the world listens to them.

So we need women who break down and who get angry and who cry. We need women who kiss and who hug and who love with their whole hearts. We need women who are stubborn and selfish, ones who will kick and scream until the world listens to them. We need women like this because women on television should reflect women in real life. So we need women of all ages, ethnicities, sexual orientations, religious beliefs, economic circumstances, and familial backgrounds on television. Why? Because if there are women we see in our everyday lives who aren’t reflected on television, then how will we relate to or connect with those stories? How will they resonate and permeate our hearts fully?

Like I said above, this doesn’t mean we will love or connect with every woman on television. I never liked Lexa on The 100, because I found her story to be rather weak. The writers never gave me a compelling enough reason to care about the character. But I know people who gleaned something very real and very personal from that character. I said before that I don’t like the way that Doctor Who regressed Clara (and female character regression is something else entirely, but we don’t have time to get into that debate), but I know people who connected with her. See? Even when writers tell really bad stories, something human within them can still resonate with an audience if the performer is powerful enough.

I don’t always connect with Laurel or Thea, but last year I didn’t always connect with Felicity. I can’t relate personally to Rebecca Bunch and her antics, but I can feel her pain as if it was my own. I love Kara Danvers and I love Jessica Day. I don’t know how I feel about Elektra on Daredevil or Julia on The Magicians yet.

Women are valuable because they’re human beings.

But I see every female character as something special, not because I will love every single one of them, but because somewhere in the world, that character is representative of a young woman watching television or powering on her laptop. Women are valuable because they’re human beings. We don’t always say or do the right things. Sometimes we’re really, really good at giving advice and sometimes we’re really bad. Sometimes we have snappy retorts, and sometimes we stay quiet. Sometimes we whine, we stomp our feet, and sometimes we valiantly go to (literal or metaphorical) war. We can be catty and petty at times, but we can also be extremely loving and gracious and loyal. We were not created by God to prop up man; we were created to walk side-by-side with him as his equal and his partner. We are not inferior. We are not dismissible. We are not here for you to objectify, and we’re certainly not here for you to toss your emotional baggage onto and expect us to silently suffocate beneath the weight of your issues.

We are strong not because of the weapons we wield, but because of the ways we encounter circumstances and make difficult decisions and prevail, in spite of odds and obstacles.

We’re women.

Respect us.

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International Women's Day: The Fictional Women Who've Inspired Us

It's International Women's Day, which means that it is the perfect chance to celebrate both the women on staff here at Just About Write and the fictional female characters who have inspired us in some way, shape, or form throughout the years. Here, our inspirations are as diverse as we are, ranging from women in television, movies, and novels alike.

With #LadiesSupportingLadies as our mantra and this website as our platform, let's take time today to celebrate these amazing women and the impact that they all have had on our lives!

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'Sons of Anarchy' in Retrospect: How the Women Ruled the Club [Contributor: Megan Mann]

There are a few things that are immediately obvious about me: I love books, I frequently use caps lock, I watch too many movies, and I’m completely fanatical about Sons of Anarchy. So in honor of the premiere of creator and writer Kurt Sutter’s sprawling new medieval drama, The Bastard Executioner, tomorrow night on FX, let’s take a look back at a beautiful show that believed in a woman’s strength.

Just about a year ago, the final season of Kurt Sutter’s Hamlet-in-a-biker-gang drama debuted for its last ride. The show was seven seasons of murderous rage, vengeance, personal vendettas, Charlie Hunnam nudity, twisted humor and -- above all -- the power of family and community set against the gritty Northern California town of Charming.

There was plenty to love about this show. What Sutter and his writers did was weave a mythology both far removed from our everyday but also relatable. He made the intimacy of characters something you valued above all else. The writing was so rich and so complex that you felt as if these were your people, that they were doing everything to protect you. That’s something that my avid TV viewing brain immediately latched onto and marveled at.

But it wasn’t just the intricate storytelling or the eye candy that made this show so great. What the writer’s room managed to always, always, always get right was just how important and strong a woman can be. They never used a woman as a means to further a man or devalue them as key players. Three of the most important characters on the show were women: Gemma Teller, Tara Knowles, and Wendy Case.

Let us begin with the matriarch: Gemma Teller is one of the most fascinating characters of -- at least -- the last decade. While we began the show on her side as the wear-my-leather-all-day biker mama bear always out to protect her pack, we ended the show feeling just as deceived by her as Jax was. She went through a great deal throughout the series, and while the show could have written her as scared or closed-off, they took those experiences and wrote her even fiercer than before.

Being the mother figure for the club also didn’t hinder Gemma from being her own person. She was integral to the plot from the beginning and was in no way overshadowed by her male counterparts. Her relationships with Clay and later Nero were just as important as Jax’s relationship with Tara. She was a smart businesswoman and never let anyone tell her what to do. You could tell that Sutter appreciated the complexities of women as more than just side or supporting characters, as he wrote this character specifically wife Katey Sagal.

While Gemma was always encouraging Jax and the rest of SAMCRO to do what needed to be done, it was Dr. Tara Knowles that acted as the moral compass for Jax. Having been childhood sweethearts, Tara comes back to escape a stalker. And though she swears not to be dragged back into the turbulent gang life, she falls back into love with Jax. However, she doesn’t let that relationship define her. She wants a safe life for herself and, eventually, their two children and does everything she can to convince Jax to leave that dangerous life behind. When he contemplates risky, poor decisions, she’s the sounding board, reminding him that needs to think of the consequences and risks in relation to what’s really important.

It was Tara's love that helped keep Jax from slipping over the edge and into a place where he couldn’t crawl out from. She was determined, hardworking, and headstrong. Tara, though towards the end was double-crossing in her attempts to extricate her young children from the dark future that was surely awaiting them, was always motivated by her family and doing what was best to protect them. She started out soft, but quickly adapted to her surroundings and refused to let anyone step all over her.

*SPOILER WARNING*

It was fitting for Gemma to have killed Tara in the end. Gemma was doing what she thought was best for Jax, her son, and her grandchildren. However, she didn’t have the right information and was unaware that Tara had been doing all of what she had to also protect Jax and her children. Her murder wasn’t something done with a gun or a knife, in a way that the club would have dealt with it. It was done with a carving fork in the kitchen of Tara and Jax’s home. It showed that while they’re part of the darkness, they are also their own entities and exist outside of Teller/Morrow and SAMCRO. And without that catalyst of losing his moral compass, Jax wouldn’t have been set on the destructive path that guided the final ride.

Once Gemma had eliminated Tara, it allowed Wendy, a character who had started the show shooting heroin while super pregnant, to show just how far she had come and prove that she was one of the only lighthouses in a very dark sea of bikers.

In the beginning, Wendy is awful. She’s a drug-addicted disaster who gave her unborn child issues. Once she had Abel, Gemma made it clear that she was never to come around the child again. With her gone, it was easy for Tara and Jax to open the door to rekindle their love. And after being gone for a few seasons, Wendy comes back to the hospital to help other addicts as a means of staying clean. She wanted a clean start, a better life and a relationship with her son Abel, something that Gemma and Tara were never going to allow being fierce protectors and all.

She persisted and never allowed obstacles to stop her. When Jax tried to get her to back off, she finally took a step away. That is, until Tara knew that Wendy was one of the only people she could trust in overthrowing Gemma and getting her kids out of Charming. Wendy knew what kind of life Jax had led because of his father and understood that that wasn’t how she wanted those boys to grow up as well. She double-crossed and lied to help Tara and while that’s never encouraged, it was done in a way that had audiences understanding and sympathizing with the two women. Had they not, they would have fallen prey to Gemma’s ploys and repeated a dangerous cycle.

After the unfortunate situation with Gemma and Tara, it was up to Wendy to step in and follow through with what Tara had started. The Wendy we see at the beginning of the series is an echo, a shadow of the Wendy we see by the end. She had turned from druggie to friend, confidante and mommy and she didn’t even have a romantic storyline! Isn’t that great? A whole character who is in no way focused on a relationship, no matter how much she loves Jax and always will. That right there is a testament to the writing. She loves him but knows that it’s a terrible idea to be with him and never acts on it. She avoids certain disaster in an effort to keep herself healthy and sane and to keep the innocent lives of children out of harm’s way. Absolutely fantastic.

Of course, while the show couldn’t have moved forward without this integral trio of fierce women, there were a slew of other women who held their own on this male-dominated show. Agent Stall, deplorable as she was, never faltered in the face of this crowd, Lyla was soft but overcame many obstacles, Margaret Murphy always wanted what was best for Tara, Sheriff Jarry knew how to uphold the law while knowing the rules of the club, and Patterson knew that the club, more than anything, valued family and wanted justice to be served.

The writers of Sons of Anarchy never let the women fall into the background and become used as accessories. They were full-bodied, multifarious characters that the show would have been lost without. As I will be parked in front of the TV watching tomorrow’s premiere of The Bastard Executioner on FX, I will hope that they have taken what has made the women of Sons of Anarchy so multifaceted and strong and apply it to the women in this new world. With their previous success, I will only expect nothing less.

Thank you, Kurt Sutter, for understanding that women aren’t just objects to further the plot of men. Thank you for giving us the female characters we want on TV. Thank you for understanding that we’re just as complex and important as men, too. You’re a real gem.

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In Appreciation of the Everyday Heroine

I’m going to admit something rather important to you, so lean in close.

The idea of going to a kickboxing class at my gym kind of terrifies me.

I mean, it sounds like fun. A part of me always scans the class schedule and thinks that maybe one day I’ll try it. Maybe one day I’ll show up to the Boot Camp class that LA Fitness has and feel like a warrior princess or something. More often than not though, I end up on an elliptical or in the back of the Latin Zumba class trying desperately to pretend that I’m not as white as I really, really am. Because the fact of the matter is that I’m not really a super confident girl, especially when it comes to classes at my gym. I don’t have a six pack. I’m laughably terrible at push-ups. If I tried to kick someone hard enough to be effective, I might actually injure myself instead of them.

But I’m not weak.

I’m just not a personal trainer.

And for me, that’s completely okay. Sometimes I daydream about what it would feel like to be a heroine in an action movie or television series. I watch the stunts on Arrow and I marvel, slack-jawed, at how utterly COOL it looks when Caity Lotz wields her bow staff. It’s quite beautiful, actually. I got like, actual chills when Roy, Oliver, and Laurel leapt from the roof in Starling City and swan-dove toward the end of last season. It was just an amazing visual, really. And there’s no doubt in my mind that Laurel Lance and Sara Lance and Thea Queen are heroines. They’re not perfect. In fact, they’re far from perfect. They’re all broken, fragile things. Sometimes they’re sharp, uncomfortable even because of the shards of glass poking from them. But beneath it all, I truly believe both women to be heroines. They take charge of their own destinies. They need men sometimes: to pull them back from the edge, to talk sense into them, to lean on for support, to vent to. I’m not in the camp of “a strong female character has to be completely independent from any man.” Men and women need each other. It’s as simple as that.

But there’s something dangerous that has been percolating in conversations recently, especially in regards to Arrow and it’s this: it’s that if a woman is lacking a mask or a costume, she is not a hero. That somehow Lois Lane isn’t as strong as Superwoman. Or that Felicity Smoak isn’t as heroic as Black Canary. The moment we begin to elevate one type of character above another and label their actions “heroic” and another’s identical actions as “normal” is the day we completely miss the point of what being a hero really means.

Logically, most of us know that masks or costumes don’t make people heroes. But that’s… also kind of what television, comics, and movies perpetuate, isn’t it? Bruce Wayne isn’t that impressive; Batman is. We adore Barry Allen but we label him “heroic” whenever he’s wearing a bright red suit. Superman is JUST a guy… until he dons a cape and then he’s a hero. Okay, class, pop quiz time: what is the reason that superheroes have secret identities in shows/movies/comics? Time’s up. The reason that heroes have secret identities is because they don’t want their nemeses to be able to identify them. And so they have these secret identities to blend in. They adopt them so they can remain unassuming. So that no one will suspect there is anything remotely special about them.

(Which, I could write an entire paper about but I’ll refrain.)

And so we’ve come to associate a person in “normal” clothes as a regular, ordinary, unsuspecting human being. And we’ve come to label the one with the mask or the suit as the “hero.” They’re the same person, mind you: Barry Allen does nothing besides change clothes to become The Flash. (What’s so refreshing is that The Flash identified this problem toward the end of their season, when Joe essentially told Barry that he’s always been a hero in his own right, not because he puts on a red suit and runs really fast, but because of his spirit and personality and convictions. God bless The Flash is all I have to say.)

And so, when there was an interviewer at Comic-Con who directly implied that Felicity Smoak (Arrow) could not be a hero because she was the only one without a mask or a suit, most of my Twitter timeline was – rightfully so – enraged. Emily Bett Rickards, who I’ll talk about momentarily, did a fantastic job over the last three years of portraying a normal young woman thrust into extraordinary circumstances who earns the favor of those around her, grows as a result, and learns more about herself in the process. Felicity doesn’t wear a mask. She doesn’t need to. She’s earned the reverence of everyone she has encountered – good or evil, mind you – without one. She’s a heroine in this show, on equal footing with Katana and Black Canary and White Canary and Speedy and The Arrow and whatever-Diggle-will-be-called and Arsenal.

Felicity doesn’t need a mask or superhero suit to be a hero.

And neither do you.

Your superhero suit is your own skin. Do you feel comfortable in it? Do you feel powerful in it? Do you feel strong in it? Good. You should. As women, we often don’t. I have bad days. I have really bad days. I have great days. Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and I wish I could change everything about myself, from my nose to my stomach and everything in between. But the days where I remember that I’m strong and I’m capable and I have purpose are the days I feel like I could conquer the world.

Some heroines wear masks. Some wear suits. Some wear flip flops and big sunglasses and fur coats. Some can shoot a gun. Some can do complex math in their heads. Some can memorize scientific formulas. Some know the perfect way to calm down children and some can cook an amazing meal without glancing at a recipe once. And the moment we place one type of woman above another – or one type of men above women – is the day we do nothing more than tear another person or group of people down.

So no, dear friends: those who wear masks aren’t heroes because they wear masks. Those who can fight with a bow staff, who can shoot an arrow with accuracy, or can run faster than the speed of sound are not heroes simply because they can do those things. They’re heroes because of who they are, not what they wear. Women who wear masks can be heroes or villains; they can be complex or one-dimensional. Women who don’t wear masks can be heroes or villains; they can be complex or one dimensional. Men who wear masks can be heroes or villains; they can be complex or one-dimensional. Men who do not wear masks can be heroes or villains; they can be complex or one-dimensional.

… Did I get my point across yet?

Before I wrap this post up, let’s examine some heroes, shall we? Since the comment that started this blog post/soap box leap was in regards to Felicity Smoak’s rather normal (and, apparently, to the reporter, completely un-heroic) existence, I thought I would examine some “everyday” heroines from my favorite televisions shows. I’ll attempt to be brief because there are a lot of them to cover.

Felicity Smoak (Arrow)

Why she’s a hero: Felicity Meghan Smoak is my favorite character on Arrow and one of my favorite characters – and favorite female character – on television right now. She can’t shoot a gun, presumably, and she has basic self-defense skills that have saved her life. But she doesn’t wear a mask. She doesn’t go out in the field to fight. She saved John Diggle’s life by hitting Isabel with a van, not by battling her in some stunning fight sequence. Felicity is normal. She’s layered and complex and emotional. She’s really good at what she does and the reason why she’s a hero is because she constantly spurs everyone to be greater, to be better and she does so with compassion, humility, and often tough love. Villains respect her and bend to her will (Malcolm Merlyn, Slade Wilson, and Ra’s al Ghul all paid her compliments and respect.) In fact, the reason that Felicity was able to help defeat Slade Wilson was simply BECAUSE of the fact that people underestimate her capabilities as a woman and fighter.

Felicity isn’t perfect and I love that about her. I love that she’s not always right and that she’s occasionally really stubborn. I love how she constantly fights for the happiness of others and for herself. I love that Oliver loves her because of her heart and her mind and her soul and everything she is and can be to him. I love that Felicity bonds with the women in her life and she doesn’t exist to prop them up or to tear them down, but to simply BE. Felicity is a hero because she has an amazing heart and she will always fight for the good things in the world.

Iris West and Caitlin Snow (The Flash)

Why they’re heroes: Caitlin and Iris don’t have superpowers (okay, well, technically the former will at some point but file that plot point in the back of your mind for the time being) and that’s what I love about them. Iris is just really passionate about her job and so is Caitlin. They’re both incredibly smart women who care about the men who surround them – who take care of them a lot but who also are unafraid to stand alone when the men are being idiots. Caitlin is a hero because she uses what she knows to help the world around her become better. Iris is a hero because she constantly battles the things in life that are unacceptable. She’s a hero because she expects everyone around her to be better – for the world to be better – and does whatever she can to help make it so.

Annie Edison, Britta Perry, Shirley Bennett (Community)

Why they’re heroes: God, I love the women of Community. Annie Edison is a hero because she loves and cares about other people so genuinely and because she’s seen so much bad in the world and yet continues to believe in hope and optimism. She’s not naïve – she knows that life isn’t perfect and she doesn’t expect it to be, but she ALWAYS challenges others to be the best and challenges herself to be, too. (She and Iris would get along swimmingly.) She’s an overachiever because she knows her value. She’s a perfectionist because she cares deeply. She’s lovable because she loves. In a world of cynicism, it’s heroic for Annie to be the optimist.

Britta Perry is heroic because she’s challenged herself and found her own worth outside of relationships and outside of school and outside of her friendships. She’s chosen to stand alone, even when it was difficult and even when others made fun of her. Heroism is looking down the barrel of a terrifying experience and choosing to stand instead of hide in shame or embarrassment. Britta is that woman.

Shirley is a hero because she cares about others more than she cares about herself, sometimes to a fault. She’s heroic because she protects other people in love. She is unafraid to call people out on when they’re wrong. She’s unafraid to step into the unknown without a safety net. And she chooses to stand by her faith and convictions when the world tells her that she’s insane. That is completely and utterly admirable.

Jane Villanueva, Petra Solano, Xiomara Villanueva, Alba Villanueva (Jane the Virgin)

Why they’re heroes: These woman are AMAZING heroes. Xiomara is heroic because she had and cared for Jane as a teenager. She became a mother and that experience morphed her from a child into an adult. And as an adult, Xiomara continues to be heroic by sacrificing for her family and Jane and providing all she can for them while still having the courage to chase her own dreams. Alba is courageous because of her faith and her hope – she believes in God and a plan and to choose to be dedicated to that in a world where life doesn’t make sense sometimes is really heroic and admirable. Petra is a hero because even though she often makes mistakes and takes what she wants by force, she loves deeply and is vulnerable. It is heroic to love – to put your heart on the line for someone else without knowledge of how they’ll return your affection. And Jane Villanueva. Boy, Jane is a hero. She’s flawed and stubborn and utterly wonderful. She’s compassionate. She’s sweet. She’s kind. She’s proof that heroes wear dresses and go to church and laugh and cry and kiss and love. Jane is proof that heroes are products of how they act in their circumstances, even when the circumstances are overwhelming.

April Carver (Chasing Life)

Why she’s a hero: Okay, all of the women on Chasing Life are heroes but I’m just going to take a few seconds to focus on April Carver, whose heroism is exemplified in how much she loves and cares for and protects her family. She’s strong not because she never breaks down (she does) or makes a mistake (she does). Heroism isn’t defined by how many mistakes you make or fights you get in. It’s defined by how you let your experiences shape you. And April lets having cancer shape her and mold her until she’s broken down… and then she gets up. Repeatedly. She’s a hero because she’s proof that bad circumstances don’t have to cripple you. Horrible news is not the end of the sentence. Even when you’re tired from fighting and feel like you can’t stand one more moment, April holds her head up higher, arches her back straighter, and looks her fears directly in the eyes, challenging them gaze for gaze.

THAT is heroism.

Jessica Day and Cece Parekh (New Girl)

Why they’re heroes: Jessica Day is good at her job. She puts herself out there, even though she’s been hurt by men before. She loves and she’s unafraid to be weird. She’s loving and shows her love by standing beside people who she considers to be friends. That’s heroic. Jessica Day is always on your team if she’s your friend and when the world is full of people who constantly waffle, friendship is a pillar of heroism. Cece is such a hero because she doesn’t let the expectations other people have of her determine who she’s going to be. She’s beautiful but she lost her passion for modeling and for being just a pretty face. Instead, she decided she wanted to try a new job and go back to school. She willingly put herself in an uncomfortable situation because she knew she deserved more out of her life and she was willing to be uncomfortable in order to get it. HEROIC.

Paige Dineen (Scorpion)

Why she’s a hero: Paige Dineen is the only non-genius on Team Scorpion, but she’s a hero. She’s a mother, which makes her a heroic person already, but the way that Paige mothers Ralph – by trying to understand him and do what’s best for him even when it’s difficult for her – is beautiful. She commands and leads, even though she doesn’t have as high of an IQ as Ralph. The series presents her as just as valuable as any other member of the team. Emotional intelligence is heroism, you guys.

Kimmy Schmidt (Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt)

Why she’s a hero: Kimmy Schmidt faced HORRIBLE circumstances and she could have let those cripple her. She could have curled up and accepted her fate. But she didn’t. Because Kimmy believes in bright colors and in not accepting defeat. She fights for other people to achieve their dreams, even if she has only just met them. She genuinely cares and that’s so refreshing. In a world of darkness, Kimmy stands out as this neon, bright spot. Because to her, that is what life is all about: embracing who you were meant to be and never backing down because of what life throws at you or what other people do to you.

Leslie Knope, Ann Perkins, April Ludgate, Donna Meagle (Parks and Recreation)

Why they’re heroes: Leslie Knope is honestly the hero we all deserve. She’s resilient and optimistic. She’s lovable and loving. She’s smart and she’s capable. She’s a beautiful tropical fish. And the reason we all love Leslie Knope isn’t because she wears a mask or a superhero suit. It’s simply because she uses her passions and talents to make the world around her better. THAT is heroic – to stand up, proud of who you are and what you have accomplished – when others command you to sit. Leslie is one of the most heroic characters on modern television because she’s so layered and complex, so wonderful and so very good at what she does. Ann is a hero because she chooses every day to be herself, to love herself, and to be an amazing friend. April is heroic because she doesn’t let other people warp her into who she’s “supposed” to be. She stands on her own. She embraces cynicism but does so in a way that causes her to grow as a person and a friend, wife, and mother. She loves her weirdness. And Donna Meagle is a hero because she realized it’s possible to be the strongest version of yourself while also being in love.

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt’s theme song sings: “females are strong as hell,” and I have to agree. Women and men aren’t heroic because of what they wear or don’t wear. They’re not esteemed by audiences because of the color of their suit or the way they wield weapons. While we admire them for their skills, talents, and abilities, heroes are heroes on television not because of marks or costumes but because of their hearts and their souls.

I appreciate the everyday heroine, because they’re not ordinary.

They’re extraordinary.

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