❌ “The Girls Are Fighting” ❌

In recent days, public discourse has labeled the conflict between Trump and Musk as “the girls are fighting.”

Let’s pause and examine why this matters.

Trump and Musk are not “girls.”

They are not women.

They are grown men—extremely wealthy, extremely powerful, and increasingly disconnected from the people their actions impact.

And yet, when two men in positions of influence behave poorly,

we reach for a gendered phrase

that reduces conflict to cattiness

and equates immaturity or drama with girlhood.

This isn’t harmless.

When we call grown men “girls” to insult them,

we reinforce the idea that being female is weak, petty, or laughable.

We perpetuate the belief that femininity is something to mock—

especially in the face of power gone wrong.

Let’s not forget:

Women are not held to the same standard of behavior.

A woman who speaks up is called difficult.

A woman who asserts her vision is called bossy.

A woman in power is accused of being cold, manipulative, or emotional.

If she succeeds, the whispers follow:

“She must’ve slept her way there.”

Wage gaps, oversexualization, misattribution of success—

the double standards are real and documented.

And now, when men with unchecked privilege are fighting,

we insult them by feminizing them?

That’s not justice.

That’s internalized misogyny, repackaged as internet humor.

This moment presents an opportunity

to be more intentional with our words.

To stop using “girl” as an insult.

To stop associating weakness, drama, or instability

with womanhood.

What’s happening between Trump and Musk

is not about women, or girls.

It’s about grown men whose egos outweigh their ethics.

Men whose influence is far-reaching,

but whose behavior is emotionally immature.

Let’s name it for what it is.

The over-privileged are in conflict.

The men in power are behaving irresponsibly.

The males entrusted with societal impact

are choosing spectacle over service.

That’s not “girls fighting.”

That’s the erosion of leadership.

And our daughters?

They deserve better than to have their identities

reduced to a punchline every time powerful men falter.

My duaghter does not need to grow up hearing that being female is weak.

The female body endures pain most will never understand.

Take childbirth, for example.

During unmedicated labor, the body can reach pain levels of 57 decibels—comparable to the pain of breaking 20 bones at once.

Yes, twenty.

The uterus, during a contraction, produces more force than any other human muscle.

And still, we are expected to quiet our screams.

To birth with grace.

To recover with a smile.

We transform.

We stretch.

We bleed and still show up.

We carry generations in our hips

and hold complexity in our hearts.

And still—

modern culture is not designed for our thriving.

It was designed for our obedience.

We are fed watered-down archetypes:

Be soft, but not too loud.

Be sexy, but not in public.

Be strong, but never intimidating.

Be maternal, but don’t lose your body.

Be emotional, but not in ways that make others uncomfortable.

And if we dare to break those molds?

The algorithm buries us.

Posts that speak truth, rage, sacred grief,

sensuality, or feminine power

are shadowbanned, silenced, or removed—

while violence, misogyny, and dehumanization

trend freely.

The system doesn’t celebrate raw, embodied women.

It curates us.

Softens us.

Packages us as aesthetic.

Pumpkin spice, not wildfire.

Pink bows, not bloodlines.

But we know who we are.

We always have.

So no—

don’t call reckless, power-hungry, insecure men “girls.”

Not in jest. Not in memes. Not in commentary.

Because being a girl is powerful.

Being a woman is powerful.

And if the world can’t see that,

then we will speak it louder.

So let’s move forward with language that honors what’s true—

not what’s easy or familiar.

Let’s stop devaluing femininity

in the name of holding men accountable.

Words matter.

And this is our chance

to use them well.