I never learned to swim as a child. Somewhere along the way I picked up a flailing dog paddle that keeps me thrashing in place, and sometimes I can tread water until I think about the fact that I’m treading water and then I go under. But that’s about it. Of course, I can float but you’re never going to get from one side of the pool to the other that way unless you accidentally bump into it. I don’t remember any of my adult relatives swimming either, so I grew up fearing water and to this day, rely on a signature panicked paddle that looks like I’m being pursued by water moccasins. Interestingly enough, I dance as badly as I swim, never having had much of an example of that either. I suspect it’s partly because I grew up never feeling quite at home in my body in a time and place where team sports were unheard of for girls. Where you learned about sex mostly by doing it and god help you if got caught. Where you might be complimented on your looks but not on your strength.

I wonder sometimes what it would have been like to grow up without those restrictions, those unspoken expectations.

So much has changed since then – I can see it in my own daughters who grew up playing sports, running, working out, swimming like fish. But unwritten rules persist – be nice, smile when you don’t feel like it, don’t take credit, don’t show off, don’t be a bitch. I’ve pushed against my ever-present fear of drowning and water moccasins to go snorkeling, kayaking, and skinny dipping in a midnight ocean, but I’ll never be completely at ease in the water. I’m hoping that the example of a woman vice-president signals a time coming when girls will feel completely at home in the spotlight, when they will take to running the country like a fish does to water.

Nikki Hardin is a writer of stories, musings, and memories. Her poetry has been published in Riverteeth Journal. She was the founder and publisher of skirt!, a monthly women’s magazine in Charleston, South Carolina. You can reach her at nikki@thedailynikki.com.