Ignoring Urban Dictionary’s first definition of the term , further investigation tells me that “a Girl Boss is someone who has big dreams and is willing to work hard for them. It’s really about being the boss of your own life”.
And that was from Elle Magazine – a much more reliable source.
NASTY GAL
Inspired by Sophia Amoruso’s best-selling book, and now an entire TV series, #Girlboss is another hashtag dividing humankind by our genitalia and causing a bit of a ruckus amongst feminists, linguists, journalists and lots of other people who define themselves with a word ending in -ist.
In this article written by Insta-famous power woman and mum-of-four, Rachel Hollis, for the Huffington Post, she argues we shouldn’t distinguish between the sexes when it comes to career success.
She says that the term #GirlBoss not only does that, in implying that women deserve extra kudos for being professionally successful, but also actually diminishes a women’s reputation by referring to her with a child form of the feminine noun.
All of which are pretty valid points – although admittedly, I hadn’t given it too much thought until I was called a Girl Boss myself – a comment that almost had me rolling around laughing like the exorcist again.
PEDANTIC SEMANTIC
Now that I’m mastering the art of time management with a strict daily schedule, I don’t have space to think unless it’s penned in the diary.
So I quite literally haven’t had the time for a semantic squabble over the term #GirlBoss with any of the aforementioned people who define themselves with a wording ending in -ist. Or myself for that matter.
But what I will say about one of 2014’s hottest hashtags, is that having been glued to my laptop since six this morning and spent thirteen hours typing at the speed of light, I don’t feel anything remotely like a Girl or a Boss.
In fact I feel more like a wide-eyed and somewhat deranged little smelly alien who’s had so much caffeine she probably won’t sleep until next Thursday.
So maybe that’s the definition of Girl Boss?
THE GIRL BOSS HUSTLE
I’ve just hit thirty-four years old, yet with an aversion to the mundanity of maturing, I do still often refer to myself as a girl. It’s a lexical rope that keeps me tied to the innocence and rose-tinted loveliness of youth and I’m okay with it.
So the Girl bit is fine, but what about Boss – do I even qualify? I took a scheduled in five minute break, somewhere around my fourth coffee, to jot down my thoughts.
I realised after merging my ideas for Consciously Curated with Mindless Mag, I’ve now reduced my side hustles down to nine. It’s still a little bit ridiculous but I’m just opening up the doors to opportunity.
There’s the blog, the book, the magazine, the Content Castle, the freelance writing for WhichPLM, the stuff for One Earth One Tribe, talks with the real world about strategy consulting and a couple of ideas around conscious fashion products.
So does that make me a boss?
Well, strictly speaking, they’re not actually side hustles because there’s nothing to be on the side of. And I guess they’re also not really hustles because they don’t technically make me any money.
But am I happy?
Happy is an understatement.
LIFE BOSS
In those five minutes of scribbling down thoughts I realised this:
I couldn’t care less what gender you identify yourself with, how successful you are in monetary terms or how many rungs you’ve climbed on the career ladder.
If you’re happy, then you’re a Boss.
You’re not waking up every day being the puppet on somebody else’s string. You’re not close to tears driving down the motorway to a job you despise, surrounded by people you despise even more. You’re not in a relationship that’s tearing you apart from the inside out.
You’re not moaning and huffing and puffing more than you smile. And you’re not making excuses.
You’re the boss of your own life.