Can we give a round of applause to the girls on TikTok for these “soft girl life” videos? Thank you. Now, can someone please point me in the direction of the sign-up sheet for the soft-girl committee? Because the hustle-bustle, rise-and-grind life is extremely ghetto, stressful, and low vibrational. I am really not the millennial to just jump on any trend—unless it makes sense. I love Meg Thee Stallion, but I was never inspired to be a Hot Girl, and the whole “we outside” crew was getting real expensive, so I had to opt out of that one. But these soft-life girls truly are doing God’s work, and they are not getting the credit they deserve.
Don’t get me wrong, I feel proud and honored to be a Black woman striving to break generational curses. There is nothing more rewarding to me than carrying the torch of our ancestors to advance our people, but this hard-knock life got me in a chokehold right now, and I am about to burn out. I need a life outside of the hustle culture where the bills are paid and the hair is laid.
This hustle culture is exhausting and mentally taxing; we do not talk about that enough. I understand the hard work it takes to get to the next level and that ‘trusting the process’ is part of it, but the reality is, if we do not protect ourselves mentally, we may not live to see the fruits of our labor.
As an ambitious woman, at times I feel so guilty for even wanting the soft-girl life. When I do fantasize about just existing—without thinking about leveling up or securing a bag, immediately my brain remembers the many prominent figures who have sacrificed so much to succeed. Why do we as Black women feel the only way we are deserving of softness and luxury in life is if we struggle for it first?
For me, maybe it’s because I have normalized working hard for every single thing—and not receiving anything that I haven’t worked hard for. A lot of my thought process has to do with the way I was brought up. Listen, my parents raised me and my five siblings with a bunch of unnecessary rules and regulations. Growing up we had to earn and share everything we got. We were not even allowed to throw out the end bread slices because it was considered wasting.
Here’s another example: I remember earning the honor roll for the umpteenth time in high school. Of course, I was proud and just knew my parents were going to give me money for my accomplishments. Well, to my surprise, I received not a dime. I was so confused because I put my all into my work. When I asked my parents if I was going to be rewarded—in cash—for being a scholar, their response was, “You did what you were supposed to do.” That’s how I was raised. Hard work was the bare minimum, so if I wanted to be rewarded, I had to go above and beyond.
This is one of the main reasons why when the soft-life girls hit the scene I was uncomfortable adopting and practicing their approach. I had to realize there needs to be a balance of working diligently toward things without overdoing it. When you need a break, it is okay to take one without feeling lazy. Not having to operate in survival/hard-work mode and having the chance to just bask in my femininity are literally what’s freeing me from this exhausting grind culture.
The soft-girl life helped me understand that we as Black women are, indeed, worthy of nice things—not because of what we do, but because of who we are. We are worthy of our desires without having to work for the validation. I am grateful I have the right and privilege to receive without compromising my health, and I hope you realize you are worthy of truly living the soft-girl life too.
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