she's just a girl, and that's the problem

on the weaponization of girlhood, the illusion of choice, and the performance of submission in pastel

I know what you’re thinking, but no, this is not a hit piece. This essay is a reckoning with girlhood, performance, and cultural obsession with turning softness into submission. And by the way, I love bows and pink. There’s nothing wrong with that. But there’s a lot wrong with apathy, with obedience. If this resonates, or if it unsettles you, please stay. Read until the end. Then, share it with someone who still thinks it’s okay for us to just be cute.

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I know what you’re thinking: oh god, another Sabrina Carpenter think piece. But that’s not it, I promise you.

I wanted to write this essay for a lot of reasons, but the main one was to correct what I said in a previous feminist essay. When I saw Sabrina’s cover, I knew that was the perfect opportunity to say what I hadn’t yet said clearly. Yet, my first reaction wasn’t intellectual; it was emotional.

The name of Sabrina’s album is ‘’Man’s Best Friend’’, so the cover of her kneeling down to a man grabbing her hair seems like she was comparing herself to a dog. I truly couldn’t understand what she was trying to say with that picture. Was that satire? Irony? Perhaps. But still, I felt confused. Then uncomfortable. Then angry.

There’s a whole aesthetic of submission trending on social media right now, and it’s freaking me out. It’s every 20-something girl on social media who claims she doesn’t know how to do anything, and that’s part of ‘’being a girl’’. Don’t know how to drive, cook, or do math? I’m just a girl. Can’t you budget and spend all your money on superficial things? I’m just a girl. As if being a girl explains away the world. I laughed at the meme at first, but then… women started taking it too seriously, and it got to the next level. It got political. And I stopped laughing.

This isn’t girlhood. It’s girlification. It’s deliberate self-shrinking. It’s helplessness being sold as cute and aesthetic. And it’s everywhere!

Sabrina’s aesthetic fits perfectly into this mold of femininity. She’s not powerful or rebellious, she’s tiny. She’s cute. Pretty. Kneeling. A girl-shaped object. And that’s why when she over sexualize herself, it is not empowering. She’s not Madonna or Lady Gaga. She does it in a way that infantilizes herself, with her tiny skirts and childish voice. And it’s troubling.

There’s nothing wrong with bows or ribbons. There’s nothing wrong with performing softness. But there’s something deeply disturbing when entire aesthetics are built over infantilizing women, especially when adult women are taught that the path to love, attention, and power is to become smaller, quieter, dumber. To perform incompetence and call it charm.

The only reason this aesthetic has gone viral is not because it’s cute or soft, but because it pleases the patriarchy. They love the old fantasy of the delicate girl who needs to be rescued, who doesn’t have any strong opinions, who needs to be explained, forgiven. It makes them feel powerful again. It invites men to play the role of protector, teacher, and master. And it keeps women frozen in a submissive look, packaged in pink.

And here’s the problem: It works. Brands love it. Algorithms reward it. Pop stars profit from it.

And while this ‘’just a girl’’ femininity might look like empowerment from a distance, up close it’s just another script. Another fantasy written by men, performed by women.

And when Sabrina kneels on the cover of her album with a man grabbing her by the hair, she’s not breaking the script. She’s starring in it.

I should say, I stared at that image longer than I care to admit, waiting for the punchline, for the feminist twist, for the subversion…. And it never came. Especially because Sabrina Carpenter is not someone known to be political. If she spoke out against injustice, challenged misogyny, or used her platform to uplift progressive causes, then maybe the image could have landed differently. But she’s not that kind of pop star. She’s never been vocal about inequality. So if this is satire, it doesn’t read this way. There’s no context, no contrast, no anchor for that interpretation.

What is more troubling is when she chose to do this. This is 2025. The year that Tradwife culture is rising. Conservatives are actively trying to roll back women’s rights. The vibes are very Handmaid’s Tale – not metaphorically, but literally. And in the middle of this storm, Sabrina chose to release a cover where she casts herself as obedient, owned, and animal-like. It leaves a very sour taste in my mouth.

Some people online are defending her saying ‘’She’s just horny’’ or ‘’Don’t take everything so seriously’’. But we have to take things seriously, especially now. Especially when it comes to pop stars who shape an entire generation’s idea of femininity. Everything they do is political. And they should know that.

Yes, women have a right to sexual expression. That’s not the point we’re making here. The question isn’t whether Sabrina can be kinky, submissive, or provocative. The question is: why now? Why like this? Why in public, under the lights, with millions of young girls watching?

This isn’t empowerment. It’s submission in feminist drag.

It’s not like Sabrina is performing in her bedroom. She’s singing it from a stage built by patriarchy, in heels, with perfect lighting, and the male gaze stitched into every pixel. So no, this is not a private desire; it’s a marketed submission. It’s that same old formula: a woman eroticizes her own obedience, and the world calls it ‘’feminism’’. We saw the same thing happening with pop stars licking hammers, crawling on stages, and blowing kisses in schoolgirl skirts. Now it’s a bow on the head and a leash on the hand, but the message continues the same: pleasure is power, as long as it still serves the man.

The line between empowerment and submission is razor thin in pop culture, and, more often than not, we fall for the idea that desire alone is radical. That the moment a woman says she wants it, the entire system dissolves. But what if what we want has been shaped by the system? What if submission is only sexy because we were trained to find safety in it?

I don’t mean to shame women with this essay, far from that. It’s about questioning, even myself. It’s about trying to see clearly. About understanding that liberation doesn’t mean reproducing your own chains in pink and glitter. It’s about asking hard questions, even when it’s hard, even when the image is beautiful.

In a previous essay, I said that every choice a woman makes is feminist. And I’d like to correct that take.

I was wrong, and I’m not afraid to admit it. No, women are not inherently feminist just for existing. If a woman does something for the male gaze or to please the patriarchy, that is not feminism. It’s simply her not resisting the system. And I don’t blame the women who does this, most of the time. But no, tradwives are not feminist. Getting your Botox done is not feminist. Wanting to please men is not feminist. The system doesn’t disappear just because we say ‘’I chose this’’.

And yes, women do make choices under pressure. Economic pressure. Social pressure. Sexual pressure. And even survival pressure. That doesn’t make us weak; it makes us human. But calling each one of these choices ‘’feminism’’ erases the context. It erases the power dynamic. And it keeps us stuck in the same loop.

Choice feminism is seductive because it makes us feel good. It tells us we don’t have to change anything to be a feminist – not our habits, or desires, or complicity. We can put a bow on it and call it empowerment. But what if that’s not enough anymore?

Sabrina can kneel like a dog, and people will rush to defend that it was ‘’her choice’’, but when did we stop asking why we make the choices we do? What influenced that choice? Who benefits from it? Who applauds it? And who learns from it?

I’m not here to cancel Sabrina Carpenter, I actually like her. But I want to call out the conditions that make that image feel desirable, powerful, beautiful. Especially in a world when women are fighting with their teeth for safety, bodily autonomy, and basic rights.

What worries me most is what is happening in the culture right now. There is a lot going on beyond bows and pink. It’s a deeper rot. A slow, deliberate shift where submission has become the aesthetic, and worse, the aspiration.

We are watching an entire generation repackage the language of dominance and control into something glossy, memeable, and marketable. Women kneeling before men. Women filmed while crying in pink lighting. Women holding signs looking for ‘’sugar daddies’’. But it’s okay, right? It’s ironic. It’s camp. It’s funny.

Except it’s not. Irony only works when it punches up. This trend only bows down. And during these times, I can’t help but think of my little sister. Will she even be a feminist? Or will she conform to the role the patriarchy gives her? Will she rebel or suffer in silence? I pray every night that she chooses freedom over obedience.

This is the weaponization of girlhood. Not childhood, but girlhood as a symbolic aesthetic. That kind of girlhood that is forever passive, pretty, and pliable. And the most dangerous part? It sells. Even to women.

And Sabrina isn’t the only one doing it… I think everyone knows about Sydney Sweeney’s soap. Yes, the most desired actress released a bath soap from her bathwater. I saw it online and I couldn’t believe it was true, because she already is so sexualized, why would she do this? But yes, she did it.

That’s not cute, that’s not girly, it’s degrading.

There’s something very creepy about turning your literal bath water into a product. As if being consumed is some kind of giggle-worthy aesthetic. And of course, it’s sold under her ‘’it’s her choice’’ umbrella. Of course, it’s being defended as a joke. But there’s nothing ironic about it. Where is the punchline?

There was even a rumor that the soap had a hole in it, which is… Disturbing, and very telling. But no, people were making the hole themselves. Which doesn’t make it any better.

In the end, it’s just another woman branding herself as an object to be bought. And for what? A headline? More money? Attention? Is this really worth it over selling a piece of yourself?

When you zoom out and really think about it, the cover, the soap, the album title all whisper the same thing: Take me. Own me. I won’t fight back.

Sabrina is not the villain. She’s not the culprit for destroying feminism. But she’s part of a cultural wave, a regression wrapped in glitter and TikTok edits. A wave that encourages women not to rise, but to kneel. A cultural movement that flatters us into silence with soft aesthetics and seductive apathy. That turns submission into a punchline and calls it irony. Well, I’m not laughing. And I’m tired of watching the same performance, over and over, dressed in different pastels.

I can see things clearly now, and I’m not playing dumb for anyone. I’m shutting down all the reality shows and social media noise and tuning on to what really matters. We are not dolls. We are not pets. And we were not put on this Earth to be pretty while the world burns. Let them market submission as liberation, but me? I’ll keep telling the truth.

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