Embracing the Soft Life – What It Is and Why It Matters

The soft life movement has gained serious momentum in recent years, especially among high-achieving professionals rethinking what it means to truly thrive. Rooted in a cultural shift toward ease, balance, and intentional self-care, the term “soft life” originally emerged from the Nigerian influencer community as slang for living with comfort and low stress. It has since taken off across social media—particularly among Black women—who have boldly rejected the idea that success must be earned through relentless struggle. Living softly is about reclaiming peace, setting boundaries that protect your energy, and giving yourself permission to prioritize joy without guilt. As therapist Nedra Glover Tawwab puts it, “rest is revolutionary”—a quiet but powerful act of resistance against a grind culture that treats rest as something to earn. Thought leaders like Tricia Hersey, founder of The Nap Ministry, echo this message, framing rest as a radical form of refusal in a world that demands we perform exhaustion to prove our worth.

For individuals accustomed to being pillars of strength in their communities, the soft life concept can feel radical. It’s an antidote to the narrative that says enduring hardship is a badge of honor. Instead of wearing burnout as a status symbol, the soft life asks: What if we were not born just to survive, but to thrive in wellness and joy? As one writer put it, “our generational inclination to focus on self-sacrifice” is giving way to an exploration of “what living well looks like for our community.” This movement isn’t about indulgence or laziness; it’s about self-preservation and reclaiming the right to rest, heal, and live fully. Author and scholar Audre Lorde captured this beautifully decades ago when she wrote, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” Now, a new generation is taking that message to heart.

Grind Culture and Its Consequences

Many of us know the script all too well: wake up earlier than the sun, double (or triple) your workload, chase the next degree or promotion, then collapse into bed only to do it again tomorrow. This relentless hustle, often celebrated as “grind culture,” has long been heralded as the key to success – especially for Black professionals who are frequently told we must work “twice as hard” to be recognized. But the cost of this machine-level pace is staggering.

Recent studies validate what our bodies and elders have been whispering for years: chronic overwork leads to serious health consequences. Individuals who push themselves to the brink – a phenomenon researchers call John Henryism – often end up with higher risks of hypertension and heart disease. The term comes from the legend of John Henry, a railroad worker who literally worked himself to death trying to outperform a steam engine. In modern times, John Henryism describes a coping style of exhaustive effort in the face of unrelenting stressors (think long hours, racial microaggressions, financial strain), which can drive up cortisol levels and lead to burnout.

Burnout is now at a tipping point. A 2024 workforce report found that nearly 3 in 5 American workers feel at least moderately burned out. For professionals of color in corporate spaces, burnout often comes with an extra layer of racial stress. One survey by a mental health app found that nearly 40% of respondents have left a job because they felt “unsafe in their identity” at work. An astonishing 66% of respondents surveyed said they “overexert themselves to excel in the workplace” while also juggling personal responsibilities. We see this in everyday stories – the manager who logs back on at midnight to finish the report, the only Black executive in the room who feels pressure to represent an entire community, or the new hire enduring daily microaggressions without a safe outlet to decompress. Over time, this grind wears down not just our bodies, but also our spirits.

In a 2023 APA Stress in America poll, nearly a quarter of adults (24%) rated their average stress between eight and 10 on a scale of one to 10, where one means little to no stress and 10 means a great deal of stress. The fallout goes beyond the individual. When talented professionals burn out or leave corporate America altogether, companies lose key voices and leadership suffers. We’ve watched as more than 200,000, including many women of color, have left the workforce since the pandemic – some for caregiving, many others due to unsustainable workplace cultures. This exodus, especially from leadership roles, is a canary in the coal mine. It signals a work culture that must change or risk crushing the very people who kept it afloat through turmoil.

The Myth of the Strong Black Woman (and Man)

Overlaying grind culture is a cultural expectation that can be even harder to shake: the myth of the “Strong Black Woman” (and its sibling stereotype, the “Strong Black Man”). From childhood, many Black women are taught – implicitly and explicitly – to be unyielding caregivers, to swallow pain with a smile, and to carry the world on our backs without complaint. Strength is a virtue in any community, but this particular trope, born of survival through generations of adversity, has a dark side. It often demands invulnerability at the expense of authentic well-being.

Activist and “Nap Bishop” Tricia Hersey puts it plainly: “‘Strong Black woman’ […] allows so much time for abuse and manipulation, for not resting, for burning yourself out,” she says. The expectation to always be strong can become a cage, dismissing the very real impact that relentless hardships and racial trauma have on a person’s mental health. Black women experience some of the highest rates of stress-related health issues – from disproportionate levels of hypertension and heart disease to maternal health disparities. The requirement to “at least appear OK while suffering” means emotional needs go unaddressed and psychological wounds deepen away from sight.

Black men, too, grapple with a parallel stereotype – being the unshakeable provider who absorbs all pressure without showing cracks. This can lead to what some mental health experts call the “John Henry” complex mentioned above, or a kind of stoic silence that masks depression and anxiety. It’s telling that Black Americans are less likely to seek mental health care (only 1 in 3 who need help receive it​). Stigma and the weight of these cultural myths contribute to that gap. If vulnerability is seen as weakness, asking for help feels like an unforgivable taboo.

But the narrative is finally shifting. Cultural leaders and scholars alike are pushing back on these limiting tropes, offering a more expansive view of what strength can look like. Embracing softness doesn’t mean we’re any less strong—it means we’re redefining strength to include rest, asking for help, and treating ourselves with the same tenderness we so often extend to others. More and more, we’re learning that true resilience isn’t about pushing through at all costs; it’s about having the courage to say “I’m tired” or “I need support” before reaching the edge.

The Post-Pandemic Landscape: Burnout, DEI Rollbacks, and Reality Checks

It’s impossible to talk about “soft life” without addressing the hard truths of our current moment. The COVID-19 pandemic and the racial reckoning of 2020 led to a surge in corporate DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) commitments – a kind of doorway to hope that workplaces might become healthier, more inclusive environments. Many Black professionals felt a cautious optimism as companies pledged to confront bias and support employee wellness.

Fast forward to 2024-2025, and the landscape has shifted again. Some of those promises have faded; DEI programs are being rolled back in various industries due to political and social pushback. In mid-2024, major employers like Lowe’s, Walmart, and Ford scaled back diversity initiatives, citing legal pressures such as the Supreme Court’s ruling against affirmative action. By early 2025, a majority of surveyed executives (51%) admitted they were considering cutting back on DEI efforts in response to government signals. This has included steps like removing inclusive language from public communications and dropping internal diversity benchmarks.

For Black employees, these shifts land like a gut punch. After years of advocating for a seat at the table and bringing our full selves to work, the table suddenly feels less welcoming again. Reports show Black workers continue to face greater barriers to mental health support at work compared to others. And even as burnout is universal, there are nuances: some research noted Black employees reporting slightly lower burnout rates than white peers, but that data point comes with context – it might reflect underreporting or the different kinds of stress Black workers carry. In fact, another study highlighted that Black employees often endure more depression and sleep loss due to workplace mistreatment.

The post-pandemic work culture also introduced hybrid and remote work, which for many Black professionals was a double-edged sword. On one hand, remote work offered a respite from daily microaggressions and being “on display” in predominantly white offices. Dr. Jameta Barlow at GWU described how stress in the workplace for Black women decreased with remote work as an option,” mitigating some (though not all) sources of racial trauma at work. On the other hand, hybrid models have blurred boundaries between work and home, making it harder to truly disconnect and fueling a new kind of burnout – the Zoom fatigue and “always on” syndrome.

High-achieving professionals find themselves at the crossroads of all these trends. We’re expected to deliver stellar results (often as the token in the room), support our communities through ongoing social justice struggles, and somehow practice self-care in a time when even rest feels like a political statement. The hard truth is that structural issues – racism, sexism, unrealistic corporate demands – aren’t solved by an individual choosing a bubble bath or a nap. However, embracing the ethos of the soft life does offer a form of resistance and resilience from within, a way to survive and subvert these pressures.

Rest as Resistance: The Power of Rest and Boundaries

Practically, embracing the soft life means setting boundaries and giving ourselves permission to pause. Many mental health experts stress that establishing clear personal boundaries is essential for reducing stress and protecting mental health.. People who maintain clear personal boundaries report significantly lower stress levels, on average,  and higher life satisfaction compared to those with poor boundaries. In contrast, constantly stretching oneself to meet others’ demands or work obligations leads to anxiety, burnout, and diminished well-being. Learning to protect one’s time, energy, and emotional space is thus a critical act of self-care. It might look like declining extra work when your plate is full, turning off email after hours, or communicating to family that you need a break. These boundary-setting behaviors uphold the soft life ethos by ensuring that rest and personal needs don’t always fall last on the list.

The soft life revolution also reframes rest as productive in its own right – productive for our health, happiness, and longevity. Sufficient sleep, leisure, and downtime are not wasted hours; they are when our bodies repair and our minds rejuvenate. Chronic lack of rest, on the other hand, has been quietly killing people. By setting boundaries, we declare that our worth isn’t defined by overwork. These are powerful statements in a society that often treats busyness as a badge of honor. Embracing a soft life means embracing the idea that we deserve peace and wellness without guilt. It’s a message especially important for those who have been told to always be tough and self-sacrificing. Everyone has the right to live a life with softness, balance, and health at its core.

Living the Soft Life: A Few Gentle Starts

If you’re feeling inspired but unsure how to begin, know this: soft life isn’t about overhauling your whole existence overnight. It starts with small, intentional choices that honor your limits and prioritize your peace. Here are a few ways to ease into it:

• Schedule your rest like a meeting. Literally block off downtime in your calendar—even if it’s just 30 minutes to read, stretch, nap, or daydream. Protect it like you would any other commitment.

• Make joy a daily ritual. That could mean playing your favorite playlist while making dinner, lighting a candle while you work, or taking your lunch break outdoors. Tiny pleasures add up.

• Set one boundary this week. Maybe it’s no emails after 6pm. Maybe it’s saying no to that “quick” favor that always takes an hour. Choose one thing that honors your energy—and stick with it.

• Say yes to help. Whether it’s a therapist, a friend, or a spiritual practice, allow yourself to be supported. You don’t have to carry it all alone.

• Rest without guilt. You are not lazy for needing a break. You are not weak for choosing rest. You are wise for choosing sustainability over self-sacrifice.

Remember, the soft life isn’t a luxury for the lucky few—it’s a path to longevity, creativity, and wholeness that everyone deserves to walk. It’s not about doing less for the sake of it; it’s about living better, with intention, clarity, and care.

So take a breath. You’re allowed to slow down. You’re allowed to choose ease. And you’re allowed to build a life that nourishes you from the inside out.