Everyone Wants a Soft Life Until the Rent Is Due.

Soraya Gyöngy

Aug 15

6 min read

Is Living Slowly Becoming a Scam? Can we really thrive in a world built on hard rules?

“Let me tell you what’s wrong with you: you’re far too comfortable. And you got comfortable way before you could actually afford to be.”

Once again, my mentor, a close friend fifteen years my senior, was laying down the cold, hard truth. Over the last thirteen years, she’s built businesses so wildly successful that she can casually check out from the machine for a whole month whenever she pleases.

“And just when I feel like maybe I could finally step back and take a breath, that maybe a period of comfort was coming because I’ve fought my ass off up until now, I’m just way too much of a dopamine chaser for that,” she continues.

Our conversation felt like a direct continuation of an Instagram video I’d stumbled upon two days earlier. A woman in her late thirties was breaking down the illusion of being a so-called “soft girl” in modern society. As a business consultant for women, her take aligned almost perfectly with my friend’s: to truly step into your feminine energy and lead a soft life, you first have to operate in the masculine for years. You have to play by society’s rules, chase the money, pull the weight. Only then can you move to the countryside, embrace the cottage-core dressing, and focus on the nervous system healing. And, you’re definitely going to need that nervous system healing.

These two perspectives left me spinning. I couldn’t help but wonder… had I been chasing delusion all the way to 34? Had I completely fucked up, only to realize I have to start all over again?

I wasn’t so sure. Listening to my friend outline a future where I’d have to start grinding brutally hard all over again made every muscle in my body tense up. Through the gut-brain axis, an alarm went off inside me, screaming one word: RUN.

It was the same voice I’d heard four years ago.

Let’s rewind. At twenty-nine, I became the editor-in-chief of a magazine for the first time, simultaneously managing both the online and print editions. It was high-stress, high-volume, and fueled by a relentless need to prove myself. Then COVID-19 hit, and my nervous system completely collapsed. Standing on a hilltop during a trip to Morocco, I had a sudden epiphany: I am so much more than this. Life had to have something bigger, something softer to offer. I resigned. I spent the next two months at an Ayurvedic clinic, repairing my gut and my nervous system. It was an experiment: if I cleared out my gut, would my intuition sharpen?

The answer was a resounding hell yes. There was no doubt left in me. I decided to pack up and move to that very Moroccan village, a place where the land, the people, and the ocean spoke directly to my soul. What followed were five months that could easily serve as the holy bible for soft girls everywhere. Honestly, I’ve been living by that playbook ever since: slow coffees, meditation, writing, yoga under the open sky. Days filled with local markets, surfing, the beach, books, long walks in nature, and quiet hours spent in community. Wrap all of that in a deeply soothing aesthetic, and voilà, I was whole.

Which brings us to the obvious question: how was I paying for all of this?

Back then, I picked up freelance writing gigs here and there, which was more than enough to cover my simple, rustic lifestyle. But then came the plot twist: two years ago, I had to move back to Budapest. I was offered another Editor-in-Chief position at a top magazine. Ironically, they picked me precisely because I embodied the free, feminine, yet strong woman who was brave enough to move abroad and follow her own voice.

The problem? The moment I re-entered the urban pressure cooker, that free spirit evaporated. What followed was a year and a half of agonizing tension, torn between the gruelling demands of the media industry and my own beautifully functioning inner rhythm. It didn’t end well.

So, what did I choose next? Considering I had built a house in Morocco in the meantime, I chose the ocean and the slow life. The past six months proved I made the right call: a natural glow-up, a blooming social life, and a deeply calm mind. But times change, and as even my spiritual teacher puts it: at the end of the day, the bigger dog bites hardest.

I haven’t had a steady job in six months. My savings are gone, my debts have piled up, and let me tell you, it is remarkably hard to drop into your soft girl era when you’re financially drowning. So, did I fail? Is it time to crawl back to the rat race?

If you look closely, behind almost every aesthetic soft girl promoting country living, matcha lattes, and nervous system regulation, there’s usually a wealthy husband or a safety net of generational wealth. The feminine can only truly bloom when anchored by safety, a container traditionally provided by the masculine.

To be clear, that “masculine” energy doesn’t necessarily have to be a partner. In the case of my successful friend, her own highly developed masculine side provides enough structure and safety to support her feminine, though whether she actually wants to step into her soft side is a different story altogether.

Looking back on our conversation, I realize it was a dialogue between two extremes of a spectrum, two people who ultimately want the same middle ground. My friend thrives on dopamine; she’s energized, action-oriented, loves the hustle and the late nights. And then there’s me: a textbook Taurus girl. I move slowly. I crave presence, stillness, uninterrupted peace. I want to savor the delights of both the material and the spiritual.

I want to live a juicy life, sipping on the nectar of pleasure, listening to the waves.

My friend wasn’t wrong. I did get comfortable before securing a bulletproof financial safety net. I took risks, huge ones. I made radical shifts. The truth is, I gave up a lot of comfort: a panoramic apartment in the downtown of Budapest, along with the daily closeness of my family and friends… all to chase an authentic life I’ve longed for since childhood. A life that has felt like a calling since the day I was born. This isn’t just about playing the princess who refuses to work. To me, work is sacred. And anything that burns you out, exhausts you, or keeps you chronically stressed cannot be sacred. I was never a rebellious teenager. Reflecting on all of this, I’ve come to realize that my true rebellion is happening right now, in adulthood. My rebellion is a fierce commitment to living slowly.

I refuse to believe I ruined my life. Yes, I need to be smarter and more conscious with my finances. But I refuse to surrender to the narrative that it’s impossible to thrive as a soft girl in this world, that we must inevitably retreat back into masculine hustle culture just to survive. Let’s not forget: we live in a deeply sick society built almost entirely on toxic masculine over-drive. That’s not just my personal opinion, just look at how many people burn out in 9-to-5s, only to reach 45 and declare, “Enough. I’m out. I’m prioritizing my health and my spirit.” Why is it a crime that I made that choice at thirty? Honestly, if I’d had a little more courage and self-awareness, I would have done it at twenty-five. But there’s no point in playing the “what if” game. I honor the timing of my life.

People around me look at what I’ve done with absolute awe. Is it possible that my purpose is precisely this: to blaze a trail toward a new, emerging norm? Maybe we can’t fully see it yet. Maybe building a life quietly, slowly, and effortlessly isn’t easy in today’s landscape. But if we genuinely want to live in a world that honors feminine needs, we cannot abandon our soft girl selves. We have to listen to that inner voice, men and women alike, in whatever way feels authentic and realistic for our lives. Maybe I gave too much authority to my inner voice (it’s impossible to ignore, it literally screams at me). But maybe mine is just loud so that others can finally hear theirs.

P.S. Naturally, this essay would hit infinitely harder if I could wrap it up by telling you I’ve unlocked the secret, that I’ve built a sustainable career that seamlessly funds my soft life without crushing my soul. My dear reader, I have to tell you: as of this exact moment, that hasn’t happened yet. But despite it all, I choose to trust the process.