There is no right way to be a woman. No rulebook or framework that perfectly defines what earns us that title. Womanhood is not a checklist. It is something we inherit and redefine with every generation. We get to decide what it means.
For me, being a woman has meant a strength that rarely gets applause. It’s the invisible labor that’s noticed only when it stops. The loaded dishwasher, empty laundry baskets, dinner on the table every night. Those are the easy ones. The challenging demands of keeping progress moving when everything inside you begs for rest. It is holding it together for everyone else and learning, sometimes painfully, how to hold it together for yourself. Emotional regulation while grief and rage swarm inside your heart. That aspect of womanhood is the real challenge.
For the two young women I am raising, it will mean something entirely different.
Instead of dreaming about engagement rings and nursery themes, they talk about college campuses, careers, travel, and advocacy. They speak about the future as something they will build, not something they will marry into. Their lives are not centered on men, and they do not feel the need to apologize for that. In fact, they brag about the ways they center themselves over the men in the room. For example, referring to a group of people with “hey, girls” instead of the typical “hey, guys” or assuming the authority in the room is female. Small blows to the patriarchy, almost missed reversals of cultural norms not currently typical in conversation.
They dye their hair different colors, not out of rebellion but expression. They have septum piercings and pottymouths. They expect autonomy that women not long ago could have been punished for claiming. They don’t know a world without the right to open a bank account, own property, vote, or speak publicly without a chaperone.
Their “normal” is radically different from the women who came before them, and that difference did not happen by accident. Watching the current administration slowly attempt to strip away those rights has radicalized them further.
Raising women who value honesty, autonomy, and accountability means letting go of the expectation that they exist to serve. They do not care to master a Thanksgiving turkey if it doesn’t interest them. They refuse to soften their voices for male comfort. They are not afraid to take up space, to argue, to challenge, to correct. They push boundaries. They demand consistency. They will tell you when you are wrong and expect the same in return. They aren’t afraid to hurt your feelings if it means holding the line of acceptable behavior. Hell, they call me out when I start slacking or judging other women by default.
Some would call that defiance. I call it evolution. The revolution we desperately need for the collective growth of humanity.
The world needs this generation as urgently as it needs clean air. They are questioning systems that were built long before they were born. Systems designed for the benefit of men. They are examining traditions that once went unchallenged. And they are doing so without the instinct to shrink themselves in the process. They laugh in the face of perceived authority and walk away from anyone who would ask them to compartmentalize themselves for the sake of peace.
There is data to support what we are witnessing. Women are voting in record numbers, particularly when their autonomy is threatened. More women are pursuing higher education than ever before. Many are delaying marriage, choosing smaller families, or none at all, and prioritizing financial independence. The shift is measurable.
And whenever there is progress, there is backlash.
The rise of the “tradwife” aesthetic — polished submission, forced domesticity, nostalgia for rigid roles — is proof of that tension. It is small but loud. Its presence signals that the cultural ground is moving. You do not romanticize the past unless the present feels threatening.
In our home, we see examples of women who refuse to comply quietly.
When the U.S. Women’s Hockey Team fought for equal pay and resources, they showed what collective courage looks like. When they declined the invitation to the White House, they modeled something even more important: excellence without obedience. Their refusal to comply earned them a place in feminist history. In contrast, the men’s team accepted that invitation and were rewarded with cold McDonald’s and a barrage of criticism online.
This lesson matters for young women everywhere.
It matters when young girls see that you can be extraordinary and still draw a boundary. That you can win gold and still say no. That integrity is not optional simply because an invitation is prestigious.
Courtesy House.gov
The same is true in politics. Watching the direct, fiery speech of Jasmine Crockett, who refuses to dilute her language or shrink her presence, reshapes what leadership looks like. Strength does not have to be softened to be palatable. Intelligence does not require submission, and visibility does not require apology. She bows to no one and has my vote for the U.S. Senate seat and will make a fine replacement for the rich white men currently in power.
The feminism of this generation does not reject motherhood or marriage. It rejects the mandate. It honors domestic labor without demanding it. It values partnership without requiring dependency. The option to choose what we want to do with our lives is the point
Gone are the days when a woman’s greatest achievement was proximity to a husband. My girls are not waiting to be chosen. They are choosing themselves.
They have heard their grandmother’s stories, dreams ignored to raise children, their ambitions folded neatly into laundry piles. They have watched older generations walk traditional paths and quietly carry regret. They understand that the freedoms they treat as ordinary were once radical.
We are normalizing this way of existence and encouraging other women to find their backbone, their voice.
The goal is not dominance. It’s the option of choice. The ability to determine our own timeline, our own ambitions, our own version of fulfillment, leaving the stigma and shame in the past.
The women before us fought for that possibility. This generation is simply living it and expanding it further than our ancestors could dream.
And if they choose to raise daughters of their own, those girls will grow up surrounded by women who encourage them to take up space, to speak honestly, to expect accountability, and to exist exactly as they are.
Gen Z may be loud. They may be inconvenient. They may be unwilling to conform. But the future of women is brighter because they are. May we all be inspired by their tenacity and refusal to shrink themselves to fit the mold. The mantra in this house that we repeat on days they feel less than.
When they ask me to be small enough to swallow, I will refuse.
Let them choke on all of me.
This column reflects the opinions and fact-gathering of the author(s) and only the author(s) and not the Fort Worth Weekly. To submit a column, please email Editor Anthony Mariani at Anthony@FWWeekly.com. He will gently edit it for clarity and concision.
