Recently, a few young Wash. U. gentlemen have decided to share with me that my personality is flawed (I might have been asking for it, but this is my article, and I don’t need to tell all sides of the story.). Initially, I was incredibly offended and wanted to change all twenty flaws that one particular fellow dropped on me in the DUC. I soon realized these men only know a small morsel of the person that I am, however, because they have not yet earned the privilege to get to know me on a deeper level. I was still hurt, as these boys chose to judge me based on highly limited scenarios and felt the need to tell me who they think I am and what I need to do to enhance my persona. Why would they have waste that much time pondering my flaws? The obvious answer is that they are all not so secretly obsessed with me. However, I knew there was also something deeper. I became interested in figuring out why these few men felt the strong urge to share with me how far I am from perfection.

Basically, what I have concluded is that I exert too much “masculine energy.” In a typical co-ed WU convo, the guys do all the talking and tell the jokes while the girls marginally contribute and giggle. If a Wash. U. woman approaches a guy, she is immediately pegged as a floozy. If she attempts and urges communication with a man, she is confrontational. When she makes a joke that is far wittier than the one the man tells, she is vulgar. If she passionately expresses an opinion, she is rash and aggressive.

Enough was enough! I decided to run a not so credible experiment…I decided to change. I began to giggle more, talk less, make less controversial jokes and stifle my opinion. HUZZAH!!! It worked! Guys liked me better when I was coy and “correct.” They liked me better when I was “chill” and when I gave them “thumbs up 7-Up” after everything they said. Unfortunately, that lifestyle lasted a day, and it was a total Snoozapalooza or, dare I say, Boer War. This chocolate honey changed back to her old, sassy ways, headed out to a bar and had a wonderful debate about patent law with a cool cat from econ class. The next day, she exchanged vulgarly hilarious stories with Scotti, a talented piercer at Iron Age Tattoos and Piercings (Getcho face pierced!).

What it comes down to is that even though I have been told to change, I can only change for the people I love and care about. I will not change for a man who is too insecure with his own masculinity to be challenged by a woman. I’m not sorry for offending less than a handful of Wash. U. guys during conversations in the DUC. I will not tell subpar jokes just because a man cannot handle my real material, and I will certainly not lose an argument to boost anyone’s ego. In the words of soothing singer Helen Reddy, “I am woman, hear me roar!”