scooter girl

It’s kind of funny looking back as a young adult, but in many ways, kids are braver grown ups. They are less conditioned by the world around them, so they hold no fears. They are brutally honest about whether they like you, thoughts that many will now only confine to their secret diaries. The truth is, I envy them. Oh, to be naive about the world again. I wouldn’t be so fearful of what everyone thinks of me.

I think this particularly applies to young girls. I, for one, wasn’t scared of expressing my “masculine” side, if you will. Tomboys tend to have a bad rep, but I think this word only discourages girls from engaging in activities seen as “masculine,” in favor of more “feminine” ones. It’s such a shame, really. I think it’s just little girls and boys enjoying their youth.

But little me didn’t care. That reverie was practically nonexistent. The only word that reverberated through my mind 24/7 was “playtime.” I loved to roughhouse with my younger brother, running around the block until we got all gross and sweaty, or getting in Nerf gun battles with the annoying boys next door. But none of them hold a tee to the era of the Scooter Girl.

All decked out in my pink tracksuit, was 8-year-old me whizzing around the neighborhood with my blue Razor scooter. It was definitely my most prized possession at that age, and one of my favorite hobbies was to ride it every day. I felt like one of those motocross racers executing those effortless nac-nacs whenever I spun the scooter’s deck around for a cool trick. I felt on top of the world, as if I could go on forever.

My younger brother had his own fancy vehicle in the form of a blue Yamaha 4-wheeler motorcycle, which I would often steal from him to try out myself. Even if it was uncomfortable at the time, I miss the feeling of the exhaust heating my ankles whenever I stepped on the accelerator. It wasn’t uncommon for us to exchange vehicles, even if it wasn’t ours. I felt like a queen riding around the big thing, nor did I feel taboo being on it as a girl.

I didn’t give a crap what those boys next door or even what their parents thought of how I presented myself. I acknowledged that most girls my age probably wanted to stay indoors and host princess tea parties. Of course, like almost any 8-year-old girl, I did those types of things too. But rarely did I see any girls engage in such horseplay.

I think they were scared that they would be considered a “problem child” if they got too excited about things. And sure, I was a rambunctious child, but I wouldn’t call myself unruly. I just loved to move around. It’s not my fault that I was hyperactive.

But as I grew older, I felt shamed by the adults around me. I felt that same pressure that those little girls surely felt in their lives. The adults told me that I needed to be a “proper lady.”

“Dress nicely.”

“Act mature.”

“Don’t play ball with the boys.”

“Go chat with the girls”

These words only make up a sliver of the kinds of things they would tell me. Over those years of sanctions and conditioning, it unfortunately worked. By middle school, I became a shy, quiet girl too afraid of expressing herself. A far cry from that boisterous girl who craved action.

Now that I’m 19, I’m now reflecting on my experiences from when I was a child. After gaining all the wisdom that a 19-year-old could possibly attain, I soon asked myself: What happened to that fire?

It was almost non-existent for my timid middle-school self. Albeit, I was the new girl at another middle school for the first time, so that explained that specific phase of my life. When high school rolled around, I became almost exclusively obsessed with perfecting my grades and extracurriculars for college applications senior year.

Even though I got into all the schools I wanted, I deeply regretted not enjoying my social life as much as I wanted to. I played it too safe for fear of what my peers, or even what my friends thought of me. I didn’t want to seem too overbearing and loud, but I sacrificed my personality in the process.

But as a college student, I vow to change that way of thinking. I’m now freed from the shackles of middle school and high school; I can be anyone I want to without criticism.

I think something switches in every 18-year-old girls’ mind after graduation that all the commotion about makeup, boys, and drama didn’t really matter. At the end of the day, we’re all just girls trying to fit into this scary, intimating world of adulthood.

Even adults well into their 30s and 40s still feel lost in their own lives, so they feel the need to control their young daughters into conformity.

But I’m here to reassure my fellow female readers that they don’t need to feel pressured to fit the stereotypical mold of femininity that society created. They can live life to its fullest and never look back.

So what if having fun picnics and bike riding with your friends at the park is cringy to some people? Who cares?

So what if you run around in the sand playing volleyball and swim in the cool, ocean water until dark? Who cares?

“Girlhood” is more than just dresses, makeup, and self-preservation–It’s a journey of self-love, discovery, and love.

We’re all human; we live, laugh, love, cry, feel joy, feel pain, and we do it all over again every day. Life is way too short to worry about what others might say to you.

Kids know this mantra well, so that’s why they treat each other with such empathy and kindness.

I think one of my big goals mentally for 2026 is to reignite that fire and love for life that I had as a child. The one that made me soak up the sun and recognize the beauty in things.

Whenever I go in my room, I see this photo of me in my barbie helmet and pink tracksuit, on my little brother’s 4-wheeler. A perfect blend of my “masculine” and “feminine” sides. Or maybe I was just being a kid.

Take it how you will.

But seeing the goofy grin plastered on my face makes me want to ride my scooter again, become Scooter Girl, and whiz off into the sunset.Embrace your inner Scooter Girl, Apricuties. Tackle life’s challenges with this mindset.