I’ve always been stubborn about most things, but especially when it comes to my clothes. My mom likes to tell the story of the day I rejected her picking out my outfit. For the longest time, mom would dress my sister and me. She would dress us up in matching outfits too. This made her extremely happy. However, one day she was choosing clothes and set them in front of me.

“I do not approve,” I said to her. She swears I said those exact words.

It doesn’t surprise me. Fashion, whether people want to admit it or not, defines one’s identity. And I have always been keen to define my identity through clothes since I was young. First, it was making sure I was not wearing the same clothes as my sister. Then, it was not wearing dresses or pink. You could say I went through my “rebellious phase” in middle school. My mom still had the reigns when it came to final approval of what I wore to school. But I pushed the limits. I cut my hair short. I wanted to get purple highlights, but mom wouldn’t let me. I wore clothes with fairies and skulls. I bought a fake nose ring (and I lost it about a week later). Anything with metal detailing on it was cool. Same with black lace. Band shirts and jeans were a given. I was the epitome of a moody teenager.

As time went on, the phase eased up. I accepted color and more “girly” things like skirts and dresses. But everything still had an edge to it. One skirt, in particular, caused a stir at a family Christmas party. It was a short, black, flouncy skirt that had ribbon detailing on each side. The ribbons laced up and ended in bows. I wore it because I was leaving for my high school friend’s party after the family party. I remember taking off my coat and my uncle looking at me and saying “wow.” And not in a good way.

After I left, other family members asked my mom how she could let me dress like that. She told them, “I pick my battles. I know where she’s going, and I know her friends. If she wants to dress like that when she’s with them, fine.” I am the oldest grandchild, and at the time, was the only teen. Even though my mom defended me, I still felt shamed because I wasn’t acting “ladylike.”

Even after my hair grew out, and my taste in clothes became more mature, I still found ways to keep from feeling boxed in. In college, I began my fascination with tights. During the colder months, I would have a rotation of at least a dozen different styles and colors. My friends loved them and praised me for finding my own style. Fashion is forever about trends. But I found that I could still wear what made me feel happy, without worrying about what was trendy. I still have a large tight collection to this day.

After college, I was getting ready for my first job interview. I wanted to wear suit pants. But women are expected to wear skirts because it’s “traditional.” I still shake my head when I hear this. I wore pants. Since then, I have worn skirts for other interviews. But I wore them because they made me feel good, not because I felt I had to.

In my thirty-two years of being on this Earth, I have learned a few things. I don’t know everything, and I never will. But I know this: You are not required to fit anybody’s standards but your own. I have never felt more confident in my outfit choices than I do now. I gave up following the rules a long time ago. The only thing that matters is that you are defining you. People can sense confidence. If you walk into an interview wearing confidence and pants, they will notice the confidence first.