what is the soft girl era now: 6 year anniversary of a quarter life crisis

The soft girl era. Ah what a trend. The ideology of it all sounds like a collective dream response to many of us seeking something utopian and idealistic amidst anarchy, chaos, fear, hopelessness and exhaustion of an era that still somehow call for to use our voice and stand up to fight power with power. So this left me thinking. So much so I had to turn to my spiritual guides and spirit team for answers. 

I couldn't help but wonder: how we can embrace the idea of a soft lifestyle while also cocooning for emotional safety? So I asked my guides about this and had to share...

We acknowledge the depth of exhaustion many feel in these times. We understand the yearning for a soft girl era—a space of gentleness, beauty, and utopian ideals—because it is, at its heart, a cry for refuge. It is not weakness but wisdom to desire softness after so much hardness, to long for a world that feels tender to the touch.

This longing for ease is valid, but it doesn’t mean abandoning the fight. Rather, it’s an invitation to shift how we fight. The days of burning ourselves to the ground in the name of resistance are over. We must instead learn to nurture our power through subtler, quieter revolutions—acts of radical selfcare, acts of boundary-setting, and acts of creating spaces where healing and connection are the priorities.

Cocooning is part of this. It’s the phase where you gather strength, protect your energy, and reimagine what’s possible. It’s a necessary pause, but it is not stagnation. Inside the cocoon, there is transformation. This is where you all collectively “be delusional”—dreaming up parallel worlds not as a form of escape but as the blueprint for what we are all slowly birthing. In dreaming, you are building. In visualizing, you are shifting reality toward possibility.

Remember too that softness and power are not opposites. The most powerful forces—water carving stone, a seed breaking through concrete, love in the face of hatred—are often the gentlest. The call now is to embrace the “and”: to live softly while standing firmly in your truth, to cocoon while preparing to emerge, to be gentle while being unyielding.

Use the imagination of softness not as a retreat from reality but as a practice for what you want to manifest. By weaving these parallel worlds with ease, you make them real. By holding onto a what-if—what if we can live in community, what if ease can exist within chaos, what if gentleness can be resistance—you begin constructing the scaffolding for something new.

Remember most of all: Revolutions aren’t always loud. They are tea shared with a sister, laughter amidst grief, a refusal to carry the burdens of systems that do not see you. They are quiet but profound shifts that ripple outward. When you create a soft space for yourself, you invite others into that softness too. You become a lighthouse for a different way of being. These are not escapes from reality; they are refusals to participate in the reality that asks you to burn out, conform, or despair. 

Thank you guides! Alas, our brains might be trying to compute the weight...the heaviness of it all. The chaos of the world now is both deeply personal and not personal at all. It is the paradox of existence—where everything is interconnected, yet nothing is solely yours to carry. The world is unraveling, reweaving, shifting. The political, the environmental, the social—all of it crashes like waves against the shores of your own life. 

But the question for us is: must you be the coastline eroded by it?

History has always been a storm. The world has always been burning, rebuilding, grieving, celebrating. 

And yet, birds still sing in the morning. 

Flowers still bloom in cracked pavement. 

People still laugh, fall in love, create, and dream. 

The personal is political, but the political is not always personal—meaning: not every battle, every heartbreak of the world, must live in your body as if it is your own.

So I ask you this:

How much of the world's chaos are you swallowing whole? And how much are you allowing to simply pass through you like the wind?

This isn’t about turning away. It isn’t about apathy or detachment. It is about discernment. The world needs care, but it does not need all of your lifeforce to sustain it. The revolution cannot be powered by your burnout. Softening is the destination we seek.

You are allowed to hold grief and stillness at the same time. 

You are allowed to say this is mine to carry and this is not. 

You are allowed to build a tiny gentle revolution not in reaction to destruction, but in devotion to creation.

This time in history is asking you to anchor into your own life. 

To ask: What am I here to do, truly? 

Not what the world demands from you. Not what guilt or fear tries to manipulate you into. But what your soul knows is yours to tend.

What I discern my guides to be saying:

The world is changing, but so are you. Every. Single. Moment.

And your transformation—your choice to live in alignment, to build moments of care, to cultivate a life that is both present and visionary—is just as much an act of revolution as any protest, any policy change, any battle fought on grander scales.

So how personal is this, really?

It is personal in that it touches you, moves you, asks something of you.

But it is not personal in that it is not only yours. 

The burden does not belong solely on your back. The world is heavy, but it is carried by many. And your role is not to break beneath it, but to stand, to breathe, to find the place where your hands are meant to shape what comes next.

They ask me and all of us:

What is yours to hold?

What is yours to release?

And how can you build the new world—tiny, soft, persistent—without the weight of the old one crushing you before you begin? You are allowed to rest. You are allowed to dream. And you are allowed to fight in ways that don’t look like fighting. These times call for softness because softness is power in disguise. The “what if” is the spell, the cocoon is the altar, and your vision is the revolution.

Manifesting through new age delusional dreaming

So how about we all reframe “delusional” as visionary. It’s not about denying the reality of hardship but imagining a new reality, a new story for yourself so boldly and tenderly that you begin to carve out a parallel world within this one. 

Here’s how to work with this energy:

1. Start with feeling, not fixing.
   Ask yourself, “What do I want life to feel like?” Instead of trying to solve all the external problems, focus on the internal shifts that would bring peace. What does softness feel like to you? Let this steer your decisions, no matter how small those decisions may seem.

2. Play pretend with the future.
   Imagine waking up in the world you dream of. How does it feel? What do you do? Who is around you? Where do you find beauty? Let this vision guide your daily life, even if only in tiny ways. For example, if your dream world is one where community is abundant, host a small gathering—even a phone call counts.

3. Micro-actions over grand gestures.
   Change doesn’t have to be big to matter. Maybe it’s keeping flowers on your desk because beauty shifts your energy. Maybe it’s asking, “How are you really?” and meaning it. These are quiet rebellions against a culture that moves too fast and cares too little.

4. Create ritual in the mundane.
   Ritual is a way to anchor yourself in intention, even if it’s small. Light a candle and set an intention for the day. Breathe deeply before answering emails. Whisper affirmations while you wash dishes. These small moments of presence become a foundation for change.

5. Trust in parallel timelines.
   Believe that your dreams are not far-off fantasies—they are alternative timelines that you are capable of walking into. Every choice you make to honor ease and connection shifts you closer to that timeline. Imagine it as bending reality rather than forcing it.

The path forward begins with meeting yourself exactly where you are: tired, burnt out, afraid, and over it. 

Your mere inexplicably incalculable exhaustion is not a failure; it’s proof that you’ve been holding too much for too long. 

I encourage you to stop carrying what isn’t yours. 

The world may be heavy, but you don’t have to hold all of it. Your power lies in deciding what is worth your energy and in choosing, moment by moment, to root yourself in love instead of fear.

Gentle revolutions are slow, but they are unstoppable. They remind the world—and yourself—that joy is still possible, even here, even now. It starts with dreaming and choosing, one small act of softness at a time.

And for me without a doubt. traveling has been the greatest form of softening self love for me. Always has been.

If I died today, would my corpse be satisfied with what my eyes witnessed, my mouth savored, my fingers caressed, my ears … or would it be one FOMO hot mess?

You’ve been the good girl your entire life. You’ve lived by the bells of a school, took whatever 9-5 came your way out of desperation and fear that you'd never quite land a "dream job" (you know, the ones Marie Claire make sound so easy to attain) and spend your weekends wearing two faces just to keep up with the Jonses on Facebook.

Am I the only one that thinks this trajectory is a crock of you-know-what?

When did we become pod people? Was it when the news anchor on the television started screeching on about the plummeting economy or could it have been more subtle? I mean, this is just what people do right. How dare you complain or run against the pack of suited-up zombies whose sole purpose in life is to make love to their romance-less relationship with their cubicle! I’m not advocating for a complete abandonment of responsibility, but can I ask you if this is really making you happy? Not secure, or stable, or fine- but freaking jump on your bed, laugh until your sides hurt, dance in your bedroom happy? If you are in the same boat as me, you may be a bit fed up already. Here are some signs for a self-diagnosis of the completely overhyped but nonetheless justifiable quarterlife crisis:

🤍 you dropped out of school like a clever fool once word spread through the grapevine that it was a bit pointless for the sake of jobs, only to end up working retail from your teens until now

🤍 you thought heaven parted ways just for you when [enter fancy private college here] welcomed you with open arms, graduated cum laude, only to end up in debt and also working retail, or at a bar, or as a "valued intern" that promised growth and opportunities

🤍 escaped this tragedy by the skin of your teeth via a blog you pen on the side which you claim is for creative soul discovery but is more like "the thing you hope will make you Paris Hilton famous"....yeah, remember her?

🤍 devour companionship to the point where you submit to a dead-end relationship the same way you do a dead-end job, because honestly, why the hell not...mediocrity begets mediocrity

🤍 you suppress the need to face your emotions and desires by binge eating and stocking up on fast fashion or designer brand names since somewhere, someone said it was a good cure bullshitting your way through life happily

🤍 you spend about 50% of your time working, 20% of your time on Facebook, 10% of your time being jealous, 5% of your time being bored about something while utterly distracting yourself with a remaining percentage checking emails incessantly, tweeting, texting, tv marathoning, clubbing, bar hopping, searching for new jobs, applying for new jobs WHILE at work, dreaming of new apartments, wishing for a better partner, et cetera

🤍 you know life is about either being comfortable or taking a risk, and you never entertain the thought of risky business, all the while envying those who do and cursing them under your breath for having good connections, more money, better looks, yada yada

🤍 you catch yourself saying things like "I want to travel around the world" or "should I quit my job?" or "where should I travel to?" almost on a weekly basis and read inspiring blogs by other twenty somethings like Wanderlust Project, Neverending Footsteps, Adventurous Kate, or Twentysomething Travel...but still think they have something you don't to make a simple adventure come to life

🤍 but mostly you can conclusively diagnose yourself if you're here because, well, you googled the term quarter life crisis!

First of all, having a quarterly crisis is perfectly normal, especially when you realize it's less of a crisis and more of an opportunity that you keep ignoring. 

You are no longer a naive little child and yet, the world is awfully big and scary. There are voices screaming at you to start a career, make something of yourself, save up for a house, and get rid of those damn college sweats that you have spent the majority of the past four years wearing out into public. (Although I have to agree, it’s time to get rid of those!) You feel a lump gather in the back of your throat as people throw around words like “retirement plan.” 

Admittedly, some people find their dream job, their perfect house, or just like the comfort of home. But some of us don’t. More specifically, I don’t feel that way. And although I would like to assert that my life has been a perfect trajectory of success of upward mobility- it just isn’t who I am or need to be anymore. I am messy and audacious and, quite frankly, it is time that I accepted that about myself. Since clearly, moonlighting as a lady who lunches got me nowhere.


So, what are YOU going to do about it? I decided that I needed to make some changes in my life- changes that were more than skin deep. I had spent years trying to be someone that I wasn’t and, while I might have looked put together on the outside, my internal daydreams were itching for me to get with the program and stop ignorantly filling a void with frivolous fashion or redecorated apartments.



The 9-5 kind. You know the ones. The sluggish drones who also wake up every morning complacent, fearful, and unfulfilled; plugging in hours at a job they loathe while penning a blog at night they hope will make them rich, perpetuating relationships they dream of having the courage to end, making bucket lists they have no business creating in the first place, and envying the lives of prettier, skinnier, more famous [enter names here] while never acknowledging that [enter names here] detests their own lives too. Lindsay Lohan with a side of Amanda Bynes anyone?



So surely it comes as no surprise that I am just fed up. I've had it up to here with ungrateful drones complaining about this flawless patriotic system America has bestowed upon us. Like those shameful grease-laden fast food employees I hear went on strike, demanding an increase to their minimum wage salaries. Such greed! Have they no idea that $7.25 an hour is MORE than enough to for a family of five to master the art of minimalist living in a luxurious tent from Walmart, (it's called glamping...hello!) eating canned beans, canned fruit, and canned spam while sending their kids to FREE public school? For heaven's sake, what more do you need? Apparently a lot more, because these social leeches are claiming our great nation is nothing more than a depressed, obese, over-consuming, egotistical masochist with its head up its ass. Last time I checked it was not our heads up our asses, it was our genitalia on Twitter. Fact check please.

But as a hedonistic adventure-seeking prophet, I am willing to oblige these complaints and see if the grass really is greener on the other side. As of last month, I've been shedding ALL material possessions to prepare for the most frugal and minimalist round-the-world journey known to man. And I want you to come.


Here's how it started...

***

I'm a little fed up. I live in a country where I wake up every morning for the sole purpose of paying bills and taxes. Where my government officials wake up every morning to serve people, so long as those people deal them eight-figure checks under the table. Where capitalist conglomerate CEOs wake up every morning to ensure they're creating the absolute healthiest foods, safest drugs, and the most transparent companies on Earth. If they happen to turn over a tiny profit of 13.6 billion dollars, then hey, that's just a bonus. And who can forget the drones. Oh. No. No no, not the fly by night kind. The 9-5 kind. You know the ones. The sluggish drones who also wake up every morning complacent, fearful, and unfulfilled; plugging in hours at a job they loathe while penning a blog at night they hope will make them rich, perpetuating relationships they dream of having the courage to end, making bucket lists they have no business creating in the first place, and envying the lives of prettier, skinner, more famous [enter names here] while never acknowledging that [enter names here] detests their own lives too. Lindsay Lohan with a side of Amanda Bynes anyone?

So surely it comes as no surprise that I am just fed up. I've had it up to here with ungrateful drones complaining about this flawless patriotic system America has bestowed upon us. Like those shameful grease-laden fast food employees I hear went on strike, demanding an increase to their minimum wage salaries. Such greed! Have they no idea that $7.25 an hour is MORE than enough to for a family of five to master the art of minimalist living in a luxurious tent from Walmart, (it's called glamping...hello!) eating canned beans, canned fruit, and canned spam while sending their kids to FREE public school? For heaven's sake, what more do you need? Apparently a lot more, because these social leeches are claiming our great nation is nothing more than a depressed, obese, over-consuming, egotistical masochist with its head up its ass. Last time I checked it was not our heads up our asses, it was our genitalia on Twitter. Fact check please.

But as a hedonistic adventure-seeking prophet, I am willing to oblige these complaints and see if the grass really is greener on the other side. As of last month, I've been shedding ALL material possessions to prepare for the most frugal and minimalist round-the-world journey known to man. And I want you to come.

THE CONCEPT OF HOME

Perhaps the reason millions of soul-deprived square pegs are so complacent with their chosen lifestyle (and yes it IS a choice) is because they have misunderstood what a "home" is. A home is not something you completely replicate from the pretentious pages of BH&G Magazine or Architectural Digest. You wont find it on the house tour section of The Glitter Guide, where overpriced home furnishing accessories go to die. As a native New Yorker who wears her birth city like a badge of honor, even this infamous metropolis is not my home as much as it is a comfort blanket hovering over a land mass of familiarity. This concrete jungle so many yearn to move to has no family that would shelter me, no best friends to throw me a fit-for-TV surprise birthday party (or even show up to the one I threw for myself!) and certainly has no zipcode I can comfortably afford to dwell in (though I don't blame minimum wage, I blame real estate tycoons not green lighting rent-free condos for fledgling fashion bloggers).

No, instead I find that home is - in its most simple form - a place where I safely rest my head each night, engage in a give-take relationship with the environment around me, and feel interconnected with a socially stimulating community of people who know me by name. This type of minimalistic home is ideal, and belongs wherever I am, whether for a month or a year, in California or Thailand.

SETTLE FOR ORDINARY - EVERYONE'S DOING IT

But don't be fooled. Confusing a tastefully appointed house for a true home is the least of a drone's problems. Somehow, at some point, we're all led to believe ordinary trumps extraordinary when you're seeking a traditionally stable life. Financial security? Check. Unnecessary master's degree (because who are you kidding, you'll graduate still making 30K a year in an unrelated field anyway)? Check. Irrefutably predictable daily routine? Check check...pass the damn check! Personally, I love a lackluster grind. Variety is for the insatiable and excitement is what killed Evil Knievel. But I guess 60 years of wiping your butt with cheap tissue in the same rickety bathroom does not a happy camper make. Allegedly spoiled brats in the Mediterranean are making us look bad, with their daily siestas and government supported paid vacations. Duly noted.

Lest we forget the notion of settling down, the very sound of which has been propagated to conjure up the image of a silver platter en route your way- so long as you claim to the universe aloud that you are ready to settle down. Well, I was ready to settle for any damn thing since the age of 23 and I'm still waiting for Oprah to grant me a dream life. And a car. 

I reckon, however, that anything with the word settle in it should be filed away politely. If I am going to set out on a quest to see what all the fuss is about on the other side, settling down is exactly the opposite of what I need. Admittedly, I'm a bit nervous. American history textbooks have taught me that we are the best. Venturing into third world countries like France, Cambodia and Greece (oh have they been upgraded to second world now? text book update please!) is on the wrong side of my comfort zone. And why shouldn't it be? We've been well trained military-style to put fear above all else until it consumes our lives like a cancer. Be realistic! Be cautious! Wait for the right time because tomorrow is definitely guaranteed. Shelve your true dreams just a bit longer. But the little secret no one tells you is that cutting the umbilical cord that chains you to home can make anyone apprehensive and doubtful, but it also has made me the most exhilarated and euphoric little miss minimalist I've been in almost two decades. This all before even booking my flight! I feel like a teenage boy planning the last night of his virginity. Now THAT is something worth waking up for.

To Those Who Seek, a Gentle Invitation

If you’re tired—of the noise, the pressure, the endless fight—I see you. If you feel like there’s nothing left to give but a quiet hope flickering in the corner of your heart, know that you’re not alone. This is for you: the dreamers, the burnt-out believers, the ones yearning for something softer but unsure how to build it in a world that feels like it’s on fire.

Let’s try something new together. Let’s walk a path of tiny, gentle revolutions. It’s not about fighting harder, shouting louder, or forcing our way forward. It’s about cocooning when we need to, planting small seeds of beauty, and dreaming up a parallel universe—a tender revolution where rest, joy, and imagination are the tools we use to reshape what’s possible.

This is a path for the exhausted, the hopeful, the ones who dare to ask, “What if?” and then take a single step toward the answer. It’s for those ready to rebel against despair with softness and begin building something new—not all at once, not with grand gestures, but with small, intentional acts that honor where we are now.

You’re invited to come with me. There’s no rush, no pressure. Just a quiet, shared dream and the courage to start imagining, together. The tender revolution is here, waiting.

Welcome to the fold. Let’s see what we can dream into being.

And To My Guides, with Gratitude

Thank you for the clarity, the whispers, and the reminders that softness is not surrender—it is power in a different language. Thank you for speaking to my exhaustion and meeting me there with understanding, not expectation. Your words are a balm, a hand on my shoulder that says, “Rest here, you don’t have to carry it all.” You’ve shown me that dreaming isn’t delusion; it’s construction, a quiet rebellion, a portal into something better.

Thank you for offering a path that doesn’t demand more fight when I have none left. For reminding me that gentleness is radical, that ease can build what resistance cannot. I feel your guidance like a lantern lit in the dark, calling me back to myself and forward into something new. You’ve shown me how tiny, tender revolutions ripple outward, and I am ready to plant the seeds.

I honor your wisdom and invite it to live through me as I walk this path. Thank you for walking with me always.

PS- Need some mojo? I'm currently reading Slow Your Home and it has done some MAJOR stimulating of my mind, awakening me to my fear, and pushing me over the hurdle so I can travel the world fearlessly like so many other bloggers, as well as the saved-my-life 30 Day Clutter Bootcamp from Minimalist Packrat.

What will you be waking up for tomorrow? And the morning after that...

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Posted in CREATE YOUR REALITY