For as long as I could remember, my being a woman has been inextricable from my support of other women. Celebrating my gender was synonymous with celebrating those who identified as the same.

As a feminist, I have allowed this love to find political footing; in the political sphere as well as throughout popular culture, I am quick to support female figures and equate their successes with my own. I have been an avid proponent of the phrase “girls supporting girls,” with the wholehearted belief that it is our job as women to lift each other up.

I am starting to realize, however, that this notion –— however overtly positive it may seem — is not as constructive to the feminist movement as I initially thought. While I still foster tremendous love in my heart for women, and will be among the first to defend them, I realize that constantly choosing the side of women can sometimes be counterproductive.

When Hillary Clinton began her presidential campaign, I was in the seventh grade, and there was no doubt in my mind that her winning the election would be anything but unequivocally good.

While I am not dismissing the merit of representation — and to this day I hold that a woman president would be a monumental win — I find it interesting how even today I am inclined to support a woman merely on the basis of her sex.

While in this particular election I would have supported Clinton even if she had been a man, I wonder what aspects of her policies I glossed over merely because she was a woman. I feel, ultimately, that I — albeit 13 — did a disservice to her by failing to acknowledge her as much more than her gender.

While this reaction and enthusiasm towards female success is not completely invalid, it is something I am trying to work past in order to broaden my perspectives and definition of feminism. Nikki Haley is currently in the running for the U.S. presidential race: While I am generally not in support of her policies, I admit I did have a sort of knee-jerk reaction to sympathize with her, if not merely for the fact that she was subject to unfair sexism.

Taylor Swift is similarly someone I have considered extensively in this vein. As a lifelong fan, I have relentlessly defended Swift from naysayers — even writing off any opposition to her as misogynistic.

In her own words, after all, “Have you ever heard someone say about a male artist, ‘I really like his songs but I don’t know what it is, there’s just something about him I don’t like?’”

However, I realize that though her gender should not win her more extreme criticism, it should also not make her untouchable from it. Recent discussions of her impact on the environment, for example, demonstrate that there certainly is some room for improvement in her character, regardless of all the good she also offers.

I think that refusing to accept criticism of women — though it’s something I have definitely been guilty of — is ultimately not productive for a progressive society. Certainly, speaking up when women face unfair criticism is a noble cause, but we must not conflate this defense with unconditional support.

Doing so would not only pigeonhole women into their gender, but also have the effect of basing their worth off of the opposition they receive. Just because a woman has been subject to the kind of discrimination I have also faced does not mean she is worth being my president, nor worth my perpetual, undying support. Calling out the injustices hurled against any woman is undoubtedly a worthwhile pursuit. However, confusing this with championing for a woman herself is undermining feminism rather than supporting it.

At the end of the day, I will continue to celebrate the women in my life and be grateful for such a tremendous support system in return. I will also acknowledge, however, the ways in which there is room among us to disagree. While girls supporting girls at all costs is a belief I have evolved past, women defending women is certainly a cause to which I remain true.