You know, we millennials are great at diagnosing ourselves. Overworked? Burnout.
Can’t sleep? Burnout.
Forgot to text back? Clearly burnout.
But what if that chronic exhaustion you’re feeling isn’t burnout at all? What if it’s grief? Not the crying-in-the-shower kind (though that’s valid), but the kind that slowly builds, layer by layer, every time you abandon yourself to please someone else, stay in a job you hate, or pretend that “it’s fine, I’m fine, everything’s fine.”
Here’s the thing: Burnout has become our catch-all excuse. It’s convenient—it lets us blame the system, the boss, the to-do list. But what if the real culprit is… us? I know, I know—audible gasps. Stay with me, though. What if instead of over-identifying as a burnout victim, we acknowledged that some of this mess is ours to clean up?
Grief, self-abandonment, unspoken rage—they’ve been piling up like dirty laundry, and maybe it’s time to air them out.
Ah, the soft girl era. You’ve seen the pins—those perfectly staged breakfast spreads, the slow mornings wrapped in a cloud of cashmere, and, of course, the luxury aesthetics that scream, “I have my life together in a way that makes you feel like you don’t.” It’s the latest trend taking over Pinterest, Instagram, and our collective dreams. And while I’m all for a soft aesthetic, (who doesn’t love a good oversized sweater and an oat milk latte?) I have to ask: What’s really going on here?
Is this desire for pastel-colored perfection just the latest trend we’re all willing to follow like good little zombies? Or are we looking for something more? Something deeper, beyond the faux serenity of influencer feeds? What does it even mean when we’re all suddenly obsessed with “luxury lifestyle” aesthetics? And—most importantly—why do we think we need an “era” of softness? Is softness really something you can time?
Burnout is trendy. Accountability? Not so much. But here’s the deal, ladies: You don’t have to live like this. Your ancestors didn’t survive war, famine, and oppression so you could spend your days Googling “why am I so tired” while ignoring the fact that Chad still hasn’t Venmoed you for that group trip.
So, let’s call burnout what it really is: a cry for a life that feels full, abundant, and true.
Let’s stop pretending that grinding ourselves into the ground is just what you do in your 30s. Grieve what you’ve lost, laugh at the absurdity of it all, and then do the bravest thing: Choose yourself. Set the boundary. Quit the job. Leave the man-child.
Because the truth is, abundance isn’t waiting for you at the end of a to-do list. It’s here, now, the moment you decide that burnout isn’t your story anymore. Your ancestors are raising their glasses to you. So go ahead, babe—rewrite the script.
The Rise of the Soft Girl Era and Luxury Aesthetics
If you’ve been on the internet for more than five minutes, you’ve probably noticed that we are, apparently, all in our Soft Girl Era. Pastel color palettes, slow mornings, and “that girl” routines featuring celery juice and gratitude journaling have become the collective aspiration. Meanwhile, entire Pinterest boards are dedicated to a hyper-curated luxury aesthetic—think plush cashmere, white-washed apartments, and aesthetically pleasing cappuccinos that someone (definitely not you) made at 7 a.m. with perfect latte art.
But pause. What are we really craving here? Is this a genuine shift towards ease, peace, and self-care, or is it just another viral trend that makes us feel like we’re one scented candle away from self-actualization? Are we actually manifesting a more aligned life, or are we just decorating the same old burnout with softer filters?
What’s Behind the Luxury Aesthetic?
We need to talk about the obsession with wealth, beauty, and leisure—packaged neatly as “softness.” At its core, the luxury aesthetic isn't just about material things; it’s about what those things symbolize. It’s about control, about curating a life that feels elegant, effortless, and, most importantly, removed from chaos.
Because let’s be real: a lot of us were raised to hustle. We grew up watching women around us sacrifice their own ease and softness in the name of productivity and survival. So, is this newfound obsession with luxury and slowness a reclamation? A way to rewrite the narrative? Or is it just another performance—one where we need an expensive robe and 16-step skincare routine to feel like we’ve arrived?
The Soft Girl Era: A Trend or a State of Being?
The language here is important. We’re calling it an era. Not a mindset, not a lifestyle, but an era—something with a clear beginning and end, a fleeting moment before the next rebrand. Which begs the question: are we only allowing ourselves to be soft temporarily? Are we treating rest like a vacation rather than a necessity?
The need for this shift makes sense. Many of us have spent years being “strong,” pushing through, working ourselves into the ground. And now, we’re craving softness, but only in controlled doses. There’s an underlying anxiety here—what happens if we get too soft? If we stop grinding, stop proving, stop doing?
We have to ask: do we actually want a life of softness, or do we just want relief from the exhaustion of always having to be hard? And if we do want it, why are we framing it as a trend instead of a birthright?
The “Zombie” Behavior: Are We Following the Trend Without Thought?
Let’s be honest, the internet loves a good bandwagon. One minute, it’s all about girlbossing to the sun and back; the next, we’re all about quitting our jobs and embracing La Dolce Vita. But do we ever stop to question why we’re drawn to these things, or are we just moving from one prescribed aesthetic to another?
It’s a little eerie when you think about it—the collective shift in desire, the mass obsession with the same luxury brands, the same morning routines, the same soft-focus dream lives. It’s giving…zombie. And that’s not to say there’s anything wrong with wanting beauty, leisure, or ease (we should want those things). But are we dreaming of these lives because they truly resonate, or because they’ve been sold to us as the next “correct” way to exist?
Because here’s the thing: true softness, true luxury—it doesn’t require you to spend a month’s rent on an influencer-approved linen set. It doesn’t require performative femininity or an aesthetic that fits neatly into an Instagram grid. It requires presence. And presence isn’t something you can buy.
What Happens When the “Era” Ends?
And what then? What happens when the Soft Girl Era fades, when the internet pivots yet again? Do we snap back into Hard Girl Mode? Do we start glorifying the hustle all over again? Do we just keep cycling through new versions of ourselves like we’re changing outfits?
Or—wild idea—do we integrate softness into our lives in a way that isn’t trend-dependent? Do we stop thinking of it as an aesthetic and start embracing it as an internal shift? Maybe softness isn’t about what’s on your Pinterest board, but about how you move through the world, how you treat yourself, how you allow yourself to receive care.
Maybe this isn’t about choosing between hard and soft at all. Maybe it’s about building a life where you don’t have to prove anything to anyone, where luxury isn’t about things but about peace.
Decoding the Desire for Luxury and Softness
So here’s the real question: when we say we want luxury, when we say we want softness, what do we actually mean? Because I don’t think it’s about designer bags or perfect morning routines. I think we’re yearning for something much deeper—a sense of ease, of self-respect, of permission to just be without constantly striving or proving our worth.
But here’s the twist: we don’t actually need a viral trend or a rebrand to claim that for ourselves. We don’t need a mood board or an aesthetic. We just need to start making choices that honor what we truly desire—not what the internet tells us we should desire.
Because at the end of the day, the most radical thing we can do isn’t to chase the next era. It’s to create a life so aligned, so full of real, embodied softness, that we don’t need to wait for the internet to tell us it’s okay to have it.
So, what happens when the “soft girl era” fades into the past? Are we going to switch gears and enter “hard girl mode” as we hustle to get back to work? Or is this just the latest attempt to redefine ourselves in a world that keeps telling us who we should be? Here’s the kicker: No one’s “era” should be limited to a period of time. Maybe what we’re really craving isn’t the luxury aesthetics or soft, dewy skin. Maybe we’re craving peace, balance, and the ability to live without the pressure of constantly chasing the next trend.
If there’s one thing we’ve learned, it’s that we can’t live for someone else’s vision board. Your soft girl era? It doesn’t need to end. But it doesn’t need to be a trend either. You can have softness, luxury, and a little chaos all in one, honey. It’s called authenticity. Welcome to your own era.
"Self-care” has become so commodified, it often feels shallow—like just another task on the to-do list or something you “should” do. Soul care feels like the perfect evolution of that idea because it suggests nourishment for the parts of you that go deeper than skin. Soul care honors the mind, spirit, and connection to something greater—be it your ancestors, your community, or even nature.
- Self-Care: Restorative actions for the body and mind. It can include things like spa days, exercise, or even setting boundaries to preserve mental health.
- Soul Care: Nurturing the parts of you that carry your wisdom, stories, and purpose. This could look like:
- Quiet time to connect with yourself, ancestors, or guides.
- Journaling as a ritual of self-discovery and remembrance.
- Participating in collective healing, like circles or ceremonies.
- Acts of liberation, like saying no to societal pressures or false agreements.
Soul care isn’t about consumption or perfection; it’s about reconnection—to yourself, your lineage, and your community.
Journaling Rituals for Soul Care
So how can we fold this into our already existing brimming-over-the-rim daily lives? Ritual of course! The term "habit" feels rigid and self-punishing, while ritual feels intentional, sacred, and alive with meaning. So if we go with this feeling, journaling rituals need not be seen as an obligation, but as a practice of remembering. Because it’s not just writing, it’s creating records, honoring ancestors, and staying in conversation with the unseen.
Why give journaling rituals a try as reframe from journaling as a habit:
- Rituals are fluid. You’re not forcing yourself to write every day at 7 AM, but instead carving out intentional moments when they feel right.
- Rituals are grounded in meaning. Maybe you begin your journaling by lighting a candle, saying a prayer, or asking a question to your guides. It’s less about “writing three pages” and more about inviting connection.
- Rituals honor cycles. In some traditions, journaling could align with the moon, seasons, or personal life transitions. For example, a full moon journaling ritual might focus on release, while a new moon ritual invites intention-setting.
- Rituals create space for imperfection. Unlike habits that thrive on consistency, rituals embrace spontaneity and authenticity. They invite you to show up as you are, not as you think you should be.
Practical Ideas for Journaling Rituals
Here are a few ways to get started or begin again on your own:
- Sacred Questions: Each time you journal, begin with a question, like “What truth needs to come through today?” or “What do my ancestors want me to know right now?”
- Dialogues with Guides: Turn your journaling into a conversation. Ask your guides or ancestors a question, and let their “response” flow through you onto the page.
- Ancestral Honoring: Write to your ancestors—share your dreams, ask for their wisdom, or simply let them know what you’re carrying. Then, pause and imagine their response.
- Elemental Rituals: Ground your journaling in the elements. For example:
- Light a candle for clarity (fire).
- Place your feet on the ground for grounding (earth).
- Drink tea while you write (water).
- Breathe deeply before you start (air).
Why Rituals Matter for Soul Care
Rituals—especially for women and those in the diaspora—aren’t just personal. They’re communal, even when practiced alone. They’re a way to keep the stories alive, to connect with the ancestral record keepers you mentioned. Writing becomes a portal, not an obligation. When we frame it like that, journaling is less about “expressing emotions” and more about reclaiming space for your spirit. So go ahead, and get your soul care rituals started and let us know how it goes in the comments!
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