The Paradox of the "Girl Box"

Molly Barker, the founder of Girls on the Run, calls that place that girls fall into in adolescence as the Girl Box. It's that construct in which we lose ourselves by "performing our lives rather than experiencing them" -- trying to live up to what others expect of us, what we see in the media, what we think we should be rather than what we are.

Sometimes, on days like these, I feel like a bit of a fraud. As I spend months coaching these amazing girls and hopefully instilling in them a sense of self-worth and a strength of character that will prepare them for the emotional rigors of teenagerhood and beyond, I still struggle with my own Girl Box. There are days I look in the mirror and recognize my own strength. I take pride in knowing that I have carried myself 26.2 or 70.3 miles or through some other difficult task. I feel confident, strong and capable.

But other days, I despair of the cellulite on my thighs or the size of my belly. At the same time I tell these girls to love who they are and the power of their own spirits, I occasionally question whether people like me less because I saw a few extra ounces on the scale instead of a few less that morning as I got dressed. Do the parents consider me less of a role model to their daughters if I don't "look" as fit as I think I should? I know mentally the answer is no, and yet there are times when I'm still ashamed. There is a battle between mental and emotional -- knowledge and feeling. I know it's wrong, and yet the power of our culture's subliminal labeling is sometimes overwhelming.

Sometimes that cultural bias isn't even so subliminal, sometimes it's right there in your face. On the plane ride home from my third marathon a few years ago, I was sitting next to a guy and we were chatting. I mentioned that I was returning from New Orleans where I'd run the Mardi Gras Marathon. He was shocked and said "wow, you don't look like a runner". When I responded "Does that mean you're saying I'm fat?" he hemmed and hawed. Not a denial, but instead it seemed like it was embarassment that I called him out on his callous and rude statement to a stranger. I walked away from that conversation able to laugh at his ignorance, but there are days like today when it pops back in my head.

I continue to fight my own battle, but it also challenges me as a coach. Can we break this cycle? Can these girls who accomplished amazing things last weekend truly grow up free of those same limiting and painful thoughts I still battle? It's my job to try, and hopefully in the process, learn from the innocence of their world.