Some girls tear down other girls as if we’re public property. I don’t play that game.

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I’ve always heard girls support girls.

It’s a cute phrase. A hashtag. A thing you say.

But here’s what happened to me.
The other day, I was chilling—literally, I was high on shrooms, vibing, unbothered—and I had to tell this younger girl and her little posse that they weren’t invited to my house.
Simple boundary. Calm energy. I was trying to relax.

But apparently, that wasn’t allowed.

Later, she sent me this nasty message—like went out of her way to say something mean—and she made sure to tell me that in a picture I posted, my arm looked “fat” to her.

Let’s pause there.
Because it didn’t. It literally didn’t.
I have a small frame. My body is genetically small. My arm looked normal.

But that wasn’t the point, was it?
It was never about my arm.

It was about trying to hurt me.

It was about reaching for the fastest weapon girls are taught to grab—your body.

Even when it doesn’t make sense. Even when it’s a lie. Even when it’s the weakest possible swing.

Because that’s what some girls do:
They’ll strike at your body because they think that’s where you’ll break.
Because they’ve been taught that we’re supposed to care what they think about our arms, our stomachs, our faces, our everything.

But here’s the thing: I don’t.

I don’t care.
I’m a grown ass woman. I know what my body is.
I don’t need your commentary. I didn’t ask for your notes.

And I would never do that to another girl. I would never aim for the body. I would never weaponize appearance like that.

Because I know how brutal I already am to myself.
Because I know how much I’ve worked to get free from that kind of thinking.

Girls support girls isn’t a t-shirt. It’s a choice. It’s a practice. It’s a rebellion.
And I choose it. Every time.

Even when you’re mean to me.
Even when you try to hurt me.
Even when you send the message.

I don’t play that game.
I’m not here for that life.
I’m here for something softer. Something real.

You don’t know me.
You don’t know my story.
And you sure as heck don’t know my body.

Girls support girls isn’t a trend.
It’s a standard.
And I don’t lower mine.