How I Learned to Stop Being a “Chill Girl” and Start Being Me

mouni feddag
Illustration: Mouni Feddag

Somewhere along the trek between girlhood and womanhood, I went through a phase of trying excessively hard to be the most chill, fabulously blasé person ever. The problem was that I was not chill. And I hated it. I yearned to be unburdened from the anxieties of caring and to revel in the magnetism of a breezy attitude. But before I knew it, I’d conjured an elusive halfway point between a desensitized robot and a whimsical movie character, a functioning fragment of myself perennially unfazed by everyone and everything, convinced it would somehow improve my life. You’ve done something wildly offensive I’ll be overanalyzing for days . . . months . . . years? No worries, it’s chill! I’ve invested in you, and you’re still dodging commitment like it’s your national sport? It’s chill; far be it from me to enforce boundaries where my self-worth and general wellness are prioritized. Perhaps the most exhausting part of the charade was time spent watching myself through the lens of others; contorting myself into something more palatable for the next person; shouldering guilt and expectations that weren’t mine to bear; and swallowing discomfort when I wanted to bellow, “I’m not okay with this!”

Thankfully, what I’d eventually come to understand is that having needs and expectations doesn’t make me difficult or some insatiable monster. And a fixation on being perceived as nice or “sooo chill” is a colossal waste of time. This cultural need to pathologize women who not only take the reins of their identity but also openly engage the full range of their feelings—you know, as a healthy human being tends to—remains a fraught battle as old as time. In the name of chill-ness, how many of us have become acquainted with the acrobatics needed to avoid unsavory labels: a “clingy” romantic partner, an unfriendly coworker, a difficult woman. Not taking up too much space or making a fuss is the mandate and, frankly, it’s awful. We are each so deliciously complex and messy; what better way to pay homage to these multiplicities than to feel, to express, and to carve out space to navigate as our purest self? So today and the days to come, I wish for a speedy death to the chill girl within all of us, a kiss of death to the malleable shell of ourselves surviving only on our socialized compulsion to people please. And a long and fruitful life to the woman who has patiently been waiting underneath.

As the saying goes, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and these habits won’t vanish overnight, but here are five tried-and-true ways to begin ridding yourself of the chill-girl trope and the stifling expectations that accompany it.

Get Comfortable Saying No
Once a people-pleaser realizes the world won’t crumble into smithereens if she says no or changes her mind, it’s a new day. “I’m not crazy about it.” “I don’t like that.” “I don’t want to go.” “That doesn’t work for me.” “I’m uncomfortable.” “I’m not happy.” “Stop.” “I’m going to pass.” “No, thanks.” “NO.” These are all great responses to start practicing. Your friend won’t hate you for choosing a night in alone over partying. The stranger pestering you at the bar isn’t owed a dissertation or elaborate excuse as to why you won’t be giving them your number or engaging in conversation. And if that work issue still doesn’t sit well with you, broach the topic in a manner appropriate for the setting. Say it with me: “No one’s comfort is more important than my peace of mind and well-being, and I need to stop feeling guilty about that.”

Push Through Imposter Syndrome
Ever feel like a complete fraud who’s weaseled her way into opportunities she’s undeserving of? And it’s only a matter of time before your contemporaries discover you aren’t supposed to be there? Yeah, that bitchy little nuisance is known as imposter syndrome. It shrouds you in self-doubt and whispers, “You don’t belong,” while undermining your talents. It’s that worrisome feeling of, Okay, but really, do I suck?, no matter how much you manage to accomplish. The remedy responsible for transforming my imposter syndrome from nearly debilitating to Eh, not feeling so hot about any of my abilities today has been constantly reminding myself I’m a mosaic of many things: greatness and inevitable fuckups, doubts and old wounds, unfulfilled potential and to-be-discovered talents. And I, as do you, deserve a seat at the table, flaws and all. While in the midst of the chill girl routine, it’s easy to put on a brave face and avoid interrogating the root of your doubts. Unpack it! Push through while giving yourself as many positive affirmations as you need, and know this too shall pass. Those hiccups along the way aren’t proof you’re a fraud; they’re confirmation you’re human. Keep going.

Get to Know Yourself
Funnily enough, once I vowed to live in my truth (whatever that happens to be at the moment) and to invest time in figuring out who the heck I am, doing so in turn made me genuinely more chill. Think of it this way: The same way you’re at ease when lounging at home in sweats or whatever your go-to comfy clothes are is the same internal result when you’re your authentic self. You breathe a bit easier and navigate a bit smoother, which translates into everything.

Don’t Apologize for Your Quirks, Embrace Them
Despite the allure of chill tricking us into thinking otherwise, we don’t have to morph into something disingenuous for the sake of appeasing others. Stop giving apologies you don’t owe. Rightfully take up space. Know you have something of value to add to the conversation. Know when to shush and just listen. Rustle feathers. Do more things that make you nervous. Do that thing people in your life won’t get but ultimately makes you feel fulfilled. Take mental notes of the times you feel comfortable, confident, and happy (more of that!) versus uneasy and panicky (less of that!). Eventually we’ve got to embrace certain eccentricities as character traits. Someone will appreciate them; just make sure you’re the first.

Breathe It Out
Stop. Take a breath. Life as you know it has likely ended and restarted your fair share of times, and you’re still standing. It’s hurled unimaginable detours, and yet here you are, still breathing, still pushing, still going. You’ve got to give yourself permission to not have the answers, to survive things going amiss, to exert less energy into bullshit, and trust you’ll be okay. This doesn’t mean become stagnant or coast in mediocrity, but find solace in relinquishing the idea of control. Simply do your best, and vow to start anew at the end of a shit day. Friends will let you down. Someone you love will be careless with your heart. Your time won’t always be valued as it should. Your hard work won’t always yield the results you’d hoped. You’ll outgrow things and people you were certain would be around forever. You’ll learn to reckon with a lack of closure and unanswered questions simply being a part of this peculiar, wondrous journey called life. And none of these curveballs will ever require the utmost poise or chill-ness.