Literally Just A Girl.

We’ve all said it—“I’m just a girl.” We throw it around like an excuse, a way to downplay ourselves, to make ourselves smaller… to not take up space. Worse, we use it to explain away our shortcomings, as if simply being a girl makes us inherently weaker, as if our girlhood is the reason we struggle or fall short—like being human isn’t reason enough.

"Just a girl"? That already means carrying the weight of impossible expectations. We spend our entire lives walking a tightrope between too much and not enough.

Be soft, but not weak. Be ambitious, but not intimidating. Be beautiful, but don’t be conceited. Be kind, but don’t be a pushover. Have an opinion, but not one that makes people uncomfortable. Love yourself, but not too much, or you’ll be full of yourself. Don’t shrink, but don’t take up too much space.

And so, we learn to tuck parts of ourselves away. We say things like “I’m just a girl” to soften the edges of our power, to make ourselves easier to digest. If only  we understood the power in those four words.

I remember being eleven years old when my teacher encouraged me to enter a public speaking competition. She believed in my writing, in my voice, in something I hadn’t yet learned to see in myself. So, I entered. And when the list of finalists came out, I realised I was the only girl. Every other name on that list belonged to a boy.

I remember sitting backstage, heart pounding, hands clammy, watching them walk onto the stage one by one—confident, loud, sure of themselves in a way I wasn’t. I started to wonder if I even belonged there. Maybe this was their space, not mine. Maybe my voice wasn’t meant to carry the same weight.

Despite my doubt, I stepped onto that stage and spoke the words I had written.

 - I won.

That’s girlhood. That’s womanhood. It’s stepping into spaces that weren’t designed for us and proving—again and again—that we belong. It’s finding our voice even when we’re the only ones in the room using it. It’s knowing that we are never just anything.

“Just a girl” means we’re built for resilience. We’re not only capable of surviving—we’re capable of thriving. We pick ourselves up, dust off the hurt, and move forward with more strength than we even knew we had. We’re not defined by the struggles we face; we’re defined by how we face them.

Being “just a girl” means we carry the weight of generations of women before us who fought for the space we now occupy. We’re the daughters, the sisters, the mothers—each of us adding our own piece to the story. We are connected to something bigger, something deeply rooted. And that? That’s power.

Being “just a girl” means we have the ability to create, to nurture, to dream, and to love. We are more than just caretakers for others; we are caretakers of our own stories, our own dreams. We make the world brighter just by showing up as ourselves. And let’s be real—there’s a quiet, undeniable power in that.

So the next time you say “I’m just a girl,” remember that “just a girl” means you’re everything. You’re strong. You’re powerful. You’re a force in this world.

And of course there will be days where I won’t believe this. Days where I’ll be at war with my mind over how strong, smart, or creative I really am. And that’s okay... after all,

I’m literally just a girl.

Payton xx