the ugliness of nonchalance being cool.

I despise how "nonchalance" is celebrated as being cool. I hate that I'm scared to admit I care. Scared to admit I want things. Scared to admit I like things. Most of all, I hate that I’m terrified to admit I want to try, but I’m paralyzed by the fear of rejection. The truth is, I tell myself I embrace rejection, until the moment it threatens my sense of self-worth. That’s when it becomes clear: I’m scared of rejection. I’m scared of putting myself out there. What if I make content and it flops? What if it’s cringey? But here’s the truth: it’s only "cringey" until you make it. The harder you try, the more cringey it feels, especially when there’s no immediate validation.

We don’t get to decide how "cool" our output is; metrics do. It’s the world that hands out the validation, not you. And you might disagree with me. You might say you're perfectly fine with failing or not getting the results you want, and if that’s true, then I genuinely admire you. But let’s be honest, everyone seeks validation in some form. Even the people you think have it all together. The truth is, I’ve never been the “cool” one. I’ve always cared too much. I’ve blocked people I thought would judge me from my story because I posted something I liked but didn’t think was “cool.” It’s exhausting, honestly.

But here’s the thing: I have the privilege of articulating my feelings. And I’ve had moments in my life where I’ve been more confident about my failures, more okay with rejection. The real kicker, though? If we’re not trying, if we’re not passionately pursuing what excites us or just something we like, we’re labeled as "uncool" until we get that payoff. And I’m tired of that.

Maybe I’m being bold by saying "we," because some people don’t hesitate to chase their dreams without caring about how it looks. And I’ll be real: I don’t fear professional failure. I dust myself off after each rejection email, even when it feels like the 400th one. I put everything I had into my undergraduate biomedical degree, my cancer research master’s, and still, I keep pushing forward. I’m grateful to be in Copenhagen, exploring, researching, and building myself up on a personal level. But I still remember the time someone called me out for being "quirky" because I tweeted too much. That knocked my confidence, and I stopped sharing my thoughts online.

But now? If every single person who follows me decides to unfollow because I finally found the courage to hit post, there’s no turning back. And I’m okay with that.