According to Wikipedia, a tomboy is a girl who likes to partake in rough and noisy activities that are typically affiliated with boys. From a very young age, children reveal their own likes and dislikes. Most little girls enjoy playing with Barbie dolls and dress up, whereas boys generally amuse themselves by crashing cars and trucks into one another and by pretending to be firemen and police officers.

As a child, I found myself caught in the middle of the two drastic gender behavioral stereotypes. Each day, I would tell my mom that I wanted to wear my "pretty dress." She happily obliged to my request because she, like many other mothers of little girls, loved to dress me in the most fashionable attire. However, by the time she would pick me up from school, my dress would usually be a filthy, mud-ridden, wrinkled mess. This occurred because unlike my female classmates who occupied themselves by playing house on the playground, I tended to push trucks through the dirt and collected bugs of all shapes and sizes with my male peers.

As I grew older, I continued to have more friends who were boys than girls. I always found females to be way more dramatic and cliquey than boys, therefore I made the decision to purge myself of the unnecessary emotional distress that my female classmates caused. As it turns out, my instincts were correct from the very start. My female classmates would tease me and accuse me of "liking" the boys that I befriended at recess. Little did they know, I simply had no patience for their cattiness or gossip. I paid little attention to their taunting remarks; therefore, on the blacktop at recess, you could generally find me playing cops and robbers, kickball and dodgeball with my male companions as our female peers skipped rope, played hopscotch, and colored with chalk.

When the awkward years of middle school rolled around, I discovered a new passion that seemed to greatly contrast with my gender. I decided to pick up arguably one of the most violent sports: ice hockey. To make matters more difficult, most players had began playing the sport around the age of five, which set me a good seven years behind. Additionally, I had chosen to play the sport in a co-educational league at an age where many of the male players began to tower over me in height. Despite the seemingly hindering obstacles, I continued to push myself to compete because I had fallen for the sport with an ardor that could not be shaken.

However, keeping up with my teammates and opponents on the ice was surprisingly nowhere near the biggest challenge I faced with my choice to play ice hockey. Because of my gender, not only did I have to work twice as hard to keep up with boys who were a lot bigger and stronger than me, but I also had to search twice as long for people who would accept me outside of the rink. I struggled to earn approval from my peers. Some of them thought I was weird for breaking the gender barrier and playing a male-dominated sport. Others had contradicting ideas as they questioned my sexual orientation yet simultaneously accusied me of playing the sport to meet cute boys. Truthfully, I was in love. However, I was not in love with any of my teammates; rather, I had acquired a firey fervor towards the jubilant sensations that the sport itself gave me. Nothing could compare to the euphoric feeling of an entire rink cheering my name and the celebratory hugs that I received from the boys on my team after I had scored a goal. Skating on that smooth, white surface is where I felt completely free, and the tranquility took control of every fiber of my being.

Despite the criticism I faced from my classmates, I continued to play my favorite sport all four years of high school. I would not let anyone take away the one activity that gave me the most joy. I understood that I was not the Wayne Gretzky of my generation, yet I also knew that I was not embarrassingly bad at the sport either. I worked hard to improve my skills and held my own in a league where I was subjected to violence. I figuratively refused to let anyone knock me off my feet, or should I say my skates; therefore, whenever I was pushed around, I jumped right back up and continued to fight for myself as well as all of the world's females who also broke the gender barrier at some point in time.

Furthermore, after high school, I decided to leave my minimum wage job behind me and search for a position where I could earn enough money to support my spending habits at college. Fate landed me a position at a barbecue company, which, much to my satisfaction, was a male-dominated work force. Once again, I had successfully avoided the drama that would have developed if my co-workers were predominantly females! While my job at the barbecue company requires a fair amount of physical labor to maneuver the heavy grills and coolers, my background in ice hockey gives me an advantage when it comes to strength. The best part about my job is the fact that all of the people who used to taunt me about participating in male-dominated activities are now jealous because I love what I do, make a decent amount of money as I work, and I have befriended many of my co-workers which makes my days even more enjoyable.

So, for all of my fellow tomboys, keep being you. Don't sacrifice your passions for approval from your peers. If they do not accept you with your unique interests in toe, they do not deserve to play a role in your life. At the end of the day, your happiness is the only aspect that will cause you to look forward to the future. Hunt for your own fish of delight, and do yourself a favor by using a sharp hook to yank onto any signs of joy that you encounter. Reel your sources of bliss in slowly so that you can enjoy every moment and experience. The second you let your happiness slip away will be the moment that you will be forced to chase after for the rest of your life. Never stop fighting.