I was talking to a friend this week and realized something unsettling, so many of us ( me included) are in survival mode, even when it looks like we’ve made it out.
For all the language we use now, “the soft life”, there’s still this underlying current of pressure, responsibility, and emotional weight that doesn’t just disappear because we’ve decided we want a different kind of life. Especially in this economy. Gas is higher, utility bills have tripled, and we’re not even going to talk about the cost of going out and trying to maintain a social life.
What once felt like the soft life on our vision boards for many has become stressful to even think about.
In our latest magazine issue, we explored women’s stories of becoming of healing, rebuilding, and stepping into fuller versions of themselves. Women who chose growth, who did the work, who found their way forward.
But one thing that I’ve realized in my reflection time post release is becoming doesn’t automatically mean you’ve stopped surviving.
Survival mode doesn’t always have to look like chaos. Sometimes it’s highly functional. (Girl, you may still be on your shit.) And that’s where the conversation around the “soft life” can feel incomplete. Because it isn’t just about the aesthetic of your life. It’s not just slower mornings, solo dates, or saying no more often.
The Soft life is more about capacity: having the space to not operate from urgency all the time. To not feel like everything is on your shoulders. To not default to “I’ll figure it out” because you’ve always had to.
And the truth is, many of us are still building that capacity in real time. We are growing and carrying. Becoming and bracing at the same time. So the goal isn’t to shame where you are or force yourself into a version of the “soft life” that isn’t sustainable in this season.
The goal is awareness and a mindset shift.
As many of us are learning, survival mode isn’t a switch you just turn off one day and never return to. It’s more like something that can flip back on without warning… when life feels overwhelming, when pressure builds, when you’re stretched too thin.
The work isn’t about pretending the switch doesn’t exist. It’s about learning how to move and think differently, even when it does.
That’s where this phase asks something different of you. So maybe the question isn’t, “Am I living a soft life?” Maybe it’s: Where am I still surviving? And what would it look like to soften, just a little, right there?
Here are a few small mental shifts to begin practicing in this phase:
Letting people show up for you in practical, everyday ways—asking for help earlier, not once you’re already overwhelmed or running on empty.
Redefining what care actually looks like in this season. Maybe it’s not monthly trips or spa days, but cooking something simple from what’s already in your fridge, staying in without guilt, or creating your own “fork and film” night at home.
Being honest about your capacity and honoring it. Not overcommitting just to maintain an image, keep up appearances, or meet expectations that no longer fit.
Creating small pauses throughout your day. A few minutes to sit, breathe, and step out of constant motion, even if nothing around you changes.
Releasing the pressure to make everything feel good at once. Some things can be soft while others are still heavy—and both can exist at the same time.
#keepstruttin