My Mechanical Romance

by Alexene Farol Follmuth

“Think of all the Richardsons you could prove wrong if you went,” I point out, hoping that might tempt her. “Easy for you to say.” She bumps her shoulder with mine, adjusting so we’re sitting side by side on her bed. “Do you know how many Richardsons there are in the world?” she sighs. “Do you know how many fewer Richardsons there would be if there were more Bels?” I counter.

“You don’t have to make the world perfect just so people will love you,” she says.

I wish I could say it doesn’t bother me to hear Richardson mock us for being girls, but it’s totally frustrating. Not because it’s wrong—which it is—but because it’s exactly the sort of thing that prevents most girls from trying. The girls who get ahead are the ones who can let stuff like that just roll off their backs, but that’s not the easiest thing in the world to do. There’s a lot more kinds of strength than just being outwardly tough, and it’s a lot to ask of anyone to succeed when most people in the room are waiting to see you fail.