There is a very specific kind of psychological warfare that happens when I try to leave her house. It’s not dramatic. It’s not life threatening. It is the kind of thing that makes you sit on the edge of your bed for twenty minutes staring into the void like you’re buffering. Because leaving the house is not just “leaving the house.” For me, it’s a full emotional obstacle course. It is a hero’s journey. It is a test of character, hydration, and whether your hair decides to betray you.

I wasn’t always like this. It started somewhere in 2023 and just became an absolute hassle to leave the house. I hate it but I embrace it because this just seems to be my new normal. In no way is it like agoraphobia. Not even in the slightest, it’s more of a doom thing of all the things that can go wrong. I’m very good at identifying my problems and figuring out plans to conquer whatever is going wrong.

So here it is. In case anyone out there can relate…..The official, certified, emotionally accurate Soft Girl Guide to Leaving the House Without Spiraling. If you’ve ever needed three outfit changes, a pep talk, and a snack just to go buy paper towels, this one’s for you.

Step 1: The Outfit Crisis That Should Not Be This Deep

You open your closet. You stare. You blink. You suddenly forget every outfit you’ve ever worn in your entire life. You try on something cute. It looks wrong. You try on something comfy. It feels wrong. You try on something neutral. Now you look like a substitute teacher who lost her passion. You briefly consider canceling your plans because your jeans are being disrespectful. Eventually you land on an outfit that is not perfect but is “fine enough to be seen by humans.” You accept it. You move on. You whisper a prayer.

Step 2: The Hydration Panic

You’re about to walk out the door when your brain screams “Water. Now.” Suddenly you’re chugging half a bottle like you’re preparing for a desert expedition. Then you panic because now you might have to pee. Then you panic because you didn’t drink enough. Then you panic because you drank too much. You grab your emotional support water bottle. You fill it. You empty it. You refill it again because hydration is not a game.

Step 3: The Bag Check That Turns Into a Personality Crisis

You put your essentials in your bag. Then you take them out. Then you put them back in. Then you add three more things you probably won’t need but feel spiritually connected to.

Items include:

• Lip balm
• Backup lip balm
• Emergency lip balm
• A snack
• A charger
• A pen you will never use
• A random receipt from 2021
• A hair tie that will snap the moment you need it

You zip the bag. You unzip the bag. You check again. You zip it one more time for emotional closure.

Step 4: The Mirror Check That Becomes a Full Existential Review

You glance in the mirror. Then you lean in. Then you turn sideways. Then you turn the other sideways. Then you adjust your shirt like it personally offended you. Wait, did you just notice your face seems different? Did your nose grow? Is one of your eyes droopy? Am I having a stroke? Why does my skin look like that? You decide to stop picking at that. You fix your hair. You ruin your hair. You fix your hair again. You decide your face looks fine but your vibe is off. You try to fix your vibe by adjusting your posture. It does nothing. You accept your current vibe as your fate.

Step 5: The Weather Betrayal

You check the weather app. It says one thing. The sky says another. Your intuition says a third. You grab a jacket. You put it down. You grab a different jacket. You put it down. You grab the first jacket again because you’re tired. You step outside. The weather immediately changes out of spite.

Step 6: The Emotional Support Lip Balm Moment

Right before you leave, you apply lip balm. Then you apply more. Then you apply a third layer because your lips deserve luxury. You put the lip balm in your bag. Then you take it out and put it in your pocket because you need it close to your soul. This is your emotional anchor. Your safety blanket. Your tiny tube of sanity.

Step 7: The Final Doorway Pause

You stand at the door. Hand on the knob. Heart beating like you’re about to enter a gladiator arena instead of Target. You take a breath. You hype yourself up. You remind yourself you are a soft girl, not a fragile girl. You open the door. You step out. You survive. And yes, you will probably come back home in forty minutes because you forgot something, but that is not the point. The point is that you left the house and you did not spiral into a puddle of indecision and lip balm.

Leaving the house is not a small thing. It is a full emotional production. It is choreography. It is a strategy. It is a delicate dance between comfort, chaos, and whatever your hair decides to do that day. But every time you make it out the door, you prove something important. You prove that softness is not weakness. You prove that gentle people can do hard things. You prove that even with outfit crises, hydration panic, and a lip balm dependency, you still show up. And that is the soft girl flex of all flexes.

XOXO,

Savi Monroe