“Run like a girl.”
What does that even mean?
For years, it was a phrase meant to belittle. Weak. Slow. Incapable. Today, it has been reclaimed. Running like a girl is no longer about speed or appearance—it is about endurance, courage, and rising every time life tries to push you down. It is about turning every challenge, every expectation, every criticism into fuel for strength.
Every day, women carry labor that often goes unseen. Not because it is small, but because it has been normalized. Society has grown accustomed to women stretching themselves thin—emotionally, mentally, physically—and calling it “natural.” When something is expected, it stops being praised. When sacrifice becomes routine, it stops being noticed.
There is emotional labor—the constant effort to manage feelings, maintain composure, and care for others even when they themselves are exhausted. While everyone is capable of emotional responsibility, women are often expected to perform it by default. From a young age, girls are taught to be accommodating, patient, understanding. When conflict arises, they are the mediators. When emotions run high, they are the stabilizers. A man who withdraws is “stressed.” A woman who does the same is “cold.” The expectation is not equal—and neither is the burden.
There is societal labor—balancing school, work, family, and expectations, often without recognition or reward. Women are expected to juggle multiple roles at once, adjusting themselves to fit standards that shift depending on context. The effort is constant, and the acknowledgment is rare, yet it shapes both their opportunities and how others perceive them.
And there is gendered labor—navigating spaces shaped by bias, dealing with dismissive remarks, and resisting pressures simply because they are women.
These forms of labor are not easy. They are heavy, and they demand a resilience that is barely acknowledged.
Consider the silent strength in classrooms, workplaces, and homes. A student quietly mediates group conflicts while carrying the weight of her own deadlines—because she is seen as the “responsible one.” A daughter helps manage household responsibilities while preparing for exams, because care work naturally falls on her. A young woman in a leadership role softens her voice to avoid being labeled aggressive, even when her male counterpart is praised for assertiveness. These are not isolated stories. They are patterns.
The difference is not that women are inherently more capable of carrying these burdens. The difference is that society has long assumed they will. And so they do—while running forward anyway.
To run like a girl, then, is to move despite the weight. It is to carry what is expected—and still choose to break what confines you. It is not weakness. It is sustained strength under pressure.
The song Labour by Paris Paloma reflects these struggles with raw intensity. Its lyrics capture the invisible work women do and the energy it takes to keep going. The song is not soft or apologetic—it is urgent, fierce, and relentless, just like the lives it mirrors. Listening to it, one can almost feel the push to rise every day, to keep moving even when exhaustion is heavy, and to claim space in a world that often doubts women’s strength.
Women’s Month is not just about celebrating achievements. It is about recognizing the labor behind those achievements—the emotional negotiations, the quiet sacrifices, the resilience forged under pressure. To run like a girl is not to seek validation. It is to move forward despite the weight, to transform struggle into strength, and to refuse a system that mistakes endurance for weakness.
Being a girl today is not easy. Every act of patience, every moment of endurance, every challenge faced and overcome is proof that strength is grown, not given. There are days when society will test women, when expectations feel impossible, when criticism comes from every direction. And yet, they keep running. They keep moving forward. They keep turning labor into power, and struggle into triumph.
So this Women’s Month, remember: running like a girl is not a weakness. It is a choice to move forward despite obstacles. It is a refusal to let invisible labor go unnoticed. It is the courage to persist when expectations are high, when recognition is rare, and when the world assumes strength is given rather than earned.
It is a declaration.
It is a promise.
It is a movement.
It is the daily proof that women transform struggle into power, labor into resilience, and challenge into triumph.
Written by Lia Abellana, Insight PH
Lia Abellana, Insight PH is a dedicated campus journalist and contributor. Their insightful writing sparks meaningful conversations and keeps the community informed.
