Story by Shannon Lynch
For as long as I can remember, I’ve referred to myself as one of the guys. I was a tomboy as a kid – coming home with scrapes on my knees was the sign of a successful day of street hockey, and it was a treat when we could get the Yankees on TV. Travel soccer was my thing for about 8 years, followed by lacrosse and field hockey in high school. All sports that made me feel intense, powerful, and competitive. I used to excel in gym class – all those years of soccer made me aggressive at the plate in kickball, and I absolutely thrived on the feeling that I was on the same playing field as the boys … or maybe more effectively stated, that I was better than the other girls. In between all these sports I loved came one year of softball.
There’s more than one reason it wasn’t my thing – to be frank I just wasn’t very good at it. But the part about softball that made me feel the most uncomfortable was the culture around the team I played for. It was important to “look good” while we played. My teammates and I wore bows in our hair and painted our nails and chanted in the dugout. It felt “girly” and at age 12, I wanted to be as far from that categorization as possible. I remember feeling like I didn’t belong and so after one season, I went back to the sports that let me wear baggy shorts and messy buns – the ones that helped me shirk the feeling that I wasn’t very good at being what a girl was supposed to be, and sweat out any anxiety I associated with those feelings.
Fast forward to high school – an all-girls Catholic high school, to be exact. Overall, I really loved my experience there, I think because in single-sex environments there’s much less pressure to compete with one another. But, I continued playing my aggressive sports, and more importantly, continued to develop my self-image as one of the guys. I never dated in high school, but was buds with the boys I did know. I hated dressing up. The lead up to school dances was always a nightmarish experience of hating everything in every store and experiencing imposter syndrome about anything I tried on. Most situations where I’d feel the pressure to fulfill the role of a more stereotypical high school girl made me cringe. When I got to Michigan, so many people recommended rushing a sorority, to try and make friends early on at such a big school. I scoffed (or possibly audibly gagged) at the idea. All I wanted was to be as far away from frat row and what I perceived the sorority experience to be. No, no – I’d stick to my non-girly experiences: showing up to class in sweatpants, playing street football with my dormmates, and arriving to hockey games 70 min early to get the best seats in the house.
Soon, I started majoring in Sport Management. I wrote for the sports section of the newspaper. I wore all these things about myself as a badge of honor – I wasn’t like other girls – I was different. I was *internally freaks out over how my inner conscious will be judged* better.
Jumping ahead another 5 years – I’ve been working in baseball since graduating in 2015, and been at MLB for 4 years. On a daily basis, I work within a team of about 50 people who design and create content for social media. Nine of them are women. Another badge of honor.
I still consider myself one of the guys. I can chug a beer faster than almost all my male coworkers, I’m up for a game of 3-on-3 (though I absolutely suck) or a trip to the batting cages, and I prefer a sweaty night at Yankee Stadium screaming at the top of my lungs with a Bud Light in hand to basically … everything. Pre-COVID era, my boyfriend had been wanting to do a fancy date night – get dressed up, eat expensive food, the whole thing. And I again scoffed at the idea. I don’t belong in a fancy dress – that’s not my space. Being doted on means I don’t know how to be independent. That’s not me. I’m not that kind of girl.
A while ago, a very good friend and coworker – who I consistently have conversations about the patriarchy and the expectations for women (and specifically women in sports) sent me this:
I’m not like other girls.
The words in this post hit me like a ton of bricks. Sadly (and as you now well know), I have been that girl. I’ve clung to the phrase I’m not like other girls for so long, in an effort to distract myself from the nagging notion that I am not very good at being what society has made me believe a girl should be. I feel like I spent so much time building myself up as something different from women, instead of seeing myself as a real, authentic, unique, complicated woman that I am. And the truth is absolutely that the more we separate ourselves from the collective of women, the greater risk we’re at to judge, misunderstand, and tear down the women that are different than us. Not only that, but by labeling myself as one of the guys, instead of a girl who really likes sports because sports are for everyone, I have been a major part of the problem. I am a proud feminist – I preach its values and attempt to live according to its tenets. I really hate that for so long, society has told us that so many things – like sports – are meant for men and not for me. They’re meant for everyone. But for years when I said those words, did I actually mean it? For a long time, I acted like sports were meant for boys and for girls like me. And that’s just as bad as misogyny and sexism.
Women in patriarchal societies are groomed to distrust other women. To compete against them for the attention of men. To judge the character of another woman by the clothes she wears. To tear each other down. And no wonder that’s the case. The more we fear each other or feel threatened by each other, the less we can accomplish as a collective. When I read that post, I really sat and thought about the way I’d been framing my experience in life as a woman, and as a woman in sports. I realized I’d been neglecting to recognize that the full scope of my own personal story has in so many ways been shaped by my femininity – it has influenced the mentors I’ve sought out, the career path I’ve chosen, and it’s been a huge part of how I build my personal and professional relationships.
“They are indeed, just like other girls: whole, complex, intelligent.”
I’m not a sports fan because I am unique to other women. I am a sports fan because I’m a unique woman. Just like all women. We are all multifaceted and curious and passionate and whole. The older I get, the more I realize that closing yourself off or labeling yourself as different and/or better than a group of people, grouped together for any reason, only keeps you from forming important bonds and reaching a better and deeper understanding of who you are and how you fit into this big world. I have an incredible tribe of female friends from all walks of life who lift me up, who let me cry, who send me flowers when I’m down and throw me parties when I’ve got a reason to celebrate. To discount those relationships by saying that I don’t really fit in well with the girls, or I do better with the boys, is just dishonest. I’d be nothing without the ladies in my life, all of whom are also unique and complex and powerful and intelligent and whole.
This isn’t to say I don’t love my guys. I’d be nothing without them, too. I feel very lucky that I’m surrounded by people (male and female) who love and support both my independence and my loyalty, my laid back attitude and my need to be in control, my competitiveness and my gentleness. I no longer feel like I have to pick a side. My femininity (and in some ways, my lack thereof) has led me to an incredibly fulfilling place in this life. With my new and improved perspective, I think it’ll become even easier to find joy in things I thought weren’t “for” me. Because the truth is, I don’t have to just be one of the guys or not. I can cry at a Yankees game and cry at a Broadway musical. I can love to chug beers and I can love getting my nails done. My life doesn’t need to be defined by how I perceived myself because of what society says belongs to men and women. And neither does anyone else’s.
This one’s for all the babes who’ve ever felt like they don’t fit the right mold. I see you, and I understand. Just know that you are a woman, exactly as you are, and you’ve always belonged.
With love, Shannon
babeswhoball.com 