I hate the term “girlboss,” and yet can’t seem to escape it. It is plastered all over t-shirts, notebooks, mugs, fanny-packs, bright pink tracksuits and hashtags. Being a boss, and existing as a person in the professional or academic world, needs to be removed from gender. There is something specifically demeaning about girlboss in particular. There is a history of women’s power being undermined by not only over-sexualization but also infantilization. When turning a woman into a sex object fails, turning her into a child is another way to strip her of competency.
The term was coined around 2014 to describe Sheryl Sandberg’s (Facebook’s COO) “lean in” approach. It encouraged championing entry into the perceived male world using “hustle” and “moxie.” It popped up on children’s apparel, outlined by pink sequins, encouraging young girls to be individualistic, rugged and take charge. While this messaging initially seemed empowering, by 2019, feminists and the wider public had changed their minds. Girlboss became an insult, used to belittle a particular brand of women for being well-manicured, selfish and power-hungry, often at the sake of family life. Female CEOs who engaged in unethical behavior, such as Elizabeth Holmes of Theranos or Belle Gibson of The Whole Pantry, were used as examples unfairly to generalize and undermine all women striving for leadership roles in the workplace.
The initial backlash against girlbosses and the wider “lean in” movement had some merit. Feminists correctly observed that a few women climbing the ranks doesn’t solve the systematic problems of patriarchy or social class, but this general observation turned into something more sinister. Successful or ambitious women themselves became the objects of hate. Girlboss became an oft-repeated insult that could be hurled at any women of a particular “privileged” aesthetic–pantsuit, heels, makeup–who pursued success in the corporate world.
Girlboss took on a familiar ridiculing tone implying women did not have as much power as they thought or projected, but rather were lucky products of “benevolent sexism.” A “girlboss” became a contradiction — conniving and cold, willing to crush anyone in her path with an impossibly high heel, yet simultaneously too stupid and naive to understand real power. Just another foolish girl, head inflated with dreams of climbing the ranks.
When I accomplish something, “yasss mama” or “work it babe” are not the professional compliments they may seem. Saying this to a male counterpart would be perceived as a joke, so why is it considered an acceptable acknowledgment of success for women? Newsflash: it’s not. These words and labels are made to belittle and condescend, subtly undermining power. No one ever mocks an ambitious man as a “boyboss.” The ego and misconduct of individual men are rarely used to critique men as a whole. And when they are, such generalizations are swiftly met with the phrase “not all men.” A particular man is never cited as a reason to question the legitimacy of male ambition in the workplace.
History has seen the impact words like “girlboss” make on politics. Hillary Clinton in 2016 and most recently Kamala Harris both lost their respective presidential races. Both women were referred to as girlbosses, along with similar sentiments, which doesn’t strike reassurance in many voters’ hearts as confident strong political leaders of the free world. While it was in no way a reflection of their true merit nor by any means the sole reason they lost, in politics perception is everything. Girlboss is a symptom of the parasitic nature of sexism that drains every woman.
As Susan Faludi, a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, wrote in her book Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women, “The anti-feminist backlash has been set off not by women’s achievement of full equality but by the increased possibility that they might win it. It is a preemptive strike that stops women long before they reach the finish line.”
A movement that started out as feminist observation circled itself into reliable classic misogyny. The fall of the girlboss is a poetic example of how society loves to twist a win for feminism against women in any way it can. Surely, even one woman’s success should be recognized as a small yet meaningful feminist victory–and yet it so rarely is.
So, congratulate me for writing this article, for speaking my mind with eloquence and arguing over a word. Or counter me on it as an equal. But please, don’t call me a “girlboss.”