The “Chill Girl” is not ok…
We need to talk about the chill girl.
She’s not ok.
But first, let’s clarify who the chill girl really is. We all know her: she’s got lots of guy friends, presents as outgoing, can drink you under the table (and takes it on as a badge of pride), insinuates or outright says “I’m not like other girls,” and she’s really good at “ball busting.”
And I was her, so I know this journey intimately.
It’s taken decades to repair my relationship with myself—my whole human self. It’s a terrifying process, letting go of your security blankets.
Being the chill girl means you’re “down for whatever” and don’t have many needs (if any). Being the chill girl means not having boundaries and believing that your emotions don’t have a place in your relationships. Being a chill girl is being intelligent, but not so much that it challenges the men who surround you. Being a chill girl often means rejecting anything associated with traditional femininity in favor of not making men feel put upon.
Being a chill girl is effectively….hiding.
And please don’t misunderstand that I believe we all have the same needs, priorities, boundaries as one another. I’m not implying that women are inherently needy; just that the chill girl doesn’t engage with and/or acknowledge whatever those needs are.
Chill girl culture is the result of internalized misogynist ideas. It is the updated version of the 1950s housewife: the blank slate of beauty expected to accessorize the life of a hardworking husband. Women were taught to appear “down for whatever” while using variations of manipulative behaviors to get their needs met (and, if we’re honest, manipulation is really the ways people learn to get their needs met in their environments).
The voiceless find ways to survive without speaking up every time. The tactics women have been forced into using for decades are still used to discredit them and paint them as “untrustworthy.” This concept runs deeper and is far more entrenched in our daily culture than what I have the time and space to dedicate.
Chill girl culture found its grand rising in the context of hookup culture, starting in the early aughts. It’s convoluted, so hang on tight.
Firstly, it doesn’t function well if we acknowledge female sexuality and sexual autonomy. In order for there to be a chill girl she has to not really like sex but pretend to be ok with hooking up (because obviously if you’re “relationship material” you don’t like sex…hello 1950s…). Chill girls were and are required to reside in the confusing space of liking sex but not admitting to sexual needs/desires that are not led by their male sexual partners.
Secondly, chill girls don’t have boundaries, feelings, or the desire to ever say “no” in any of its forms. Bringing up boundaries, feelings, or the rejection of whatever the male counterpart suggests is an attempt at causing “conflict” or “drama.”
Thirdly, the chill girl does not care about her appearance, her body, how she dresses; she effortlessly fulfills all of the traditional expectations of beauty and is totally unaware. After all, if she’s aware she meets these arcane standards, she’s “uppity,” “full of herself,” or “arrogant.”
Fourthly, the chill girl is accepting of any and all things proposed or shared by her male counterparts, as confronting problematic thinking with and/or asking for accountability of her male counterparts is “creating conflict,” “bitchy,” “intense.” After all, if we can make the “issue” about the woman, rather than reflecting on the ways in which men impact the people around them, we can avoid discomfort altogether.
Fifthly, the chill girl has no interests of her own that would require a male counterpart to be involved, thus connecting with her in an authentic way.
Most chill girl commentary is focused on women in their 20s, as we (culturally) tend to overlook the growing number of adult women who are unpartnered and/or still dating. As a result, the examples often given in commentary are not relatable for women out of their 20s (this is true for lots of dating/relationship advice, in general, but that’s a whole other topic and I don’t have the time to write a textbook).
Chill girl narratives and expectations continue throughout adulthood for lots of women. It shows up in advice telling single women in their 30s and beyond that they’re just “too picky.” It shows up in the competitive stares between women in public—the stares that scream “please don’t exist in a way that reflects back to me how I have been neglecting my own wants and needs.”
Chill girls struggle to shift to honoring their wants and needs for valid reasons: it’s really hard to lose your people. And in making these changes, chill girls will lose their people.
When we start setting boundaries and communicating our wants/needs, we start to see how many of our relationships were surviving because we were not showing up as our whole selves; because the people in our lives weren’t invested in us as individuals. The people in our lives were invested in how being “chill” made them feel so comfortable.
In the last few years TikTok has pushed back on the patriarchal push for more chill girls by suggesting being “crazy girls” instead. Neither of these narratives is helpful. Labeling asking for one’s needs to be met and/or being communicative as “crazy” further delegitimizes those needs.
The updated version is “negative.” Prioritizing open communication, even when it’s uncomfortable, doesn’t make someone “negative.” It’s sometimes helpful to reframe communication—even when it’s uncomfortable—as an expression of caring. Most people won’t communicate their needs with people about whom they don’t care. Open communication and practicing vulnerability is an attempt at keeping someone in their lives.
Lori Gottlieb said it best: “Boundaries are what create trust, comfort, and safety in a relationship by defining what is and isn’t okay. You say that you don’t think you want a ‘bounded relationship,' but all healthy relationships—romantic, platonic, and familial—are ‘bounded relationships’ in the sense that relationships aren’t free-for-alls.”
The opposite of the chill girl isn’t “crazy” or “negative"; it’s human. And any time we neglect our humanness, we impact our mental health.