Have you ever stopped yourself from doing something because you thought, Wait… is this cringe? Maybe you wanted to post that heartfelt caption, try a new hobby, or share your excitement about something you love—but then that little voice in your head whispered, People will think this is weird, and you shut down.
I’ve been there. So many times.
I remember the first time I went live on Instagram. I hyped myself up all day, convinced I had something worthwhile to share. But the second I hit that ‘Go Live’ button, panic set in. What if no one shows up? What if the only people watching are waiting for me to embarrass myself? My heart raced as I stared at the screen, waiting for those little profile pictures to pop up. I felt like I was setting myself up for public humiliation.
But why? Why was the idea of putting myself out there so terrifying? Why did it feel safer to stay small than to risk being too much?
When Did ‘Cringe’ Become the Ultimate Social Sin?
Earlier this week, I was scrolling through TikTok when I came across a video by the creator of the viral ‘love surge’ video. Her comment section? Brutal. "This was so painful to watch," "Secondhand embarrassment," "Cringe Millennial Core." And for what? For expressing love and joy so freely?
It got me thinking—are her videos actually cringe, or have we just collectively decided that when someone expresses themselves fully, without shame, they automatically become a target?
Somewhere along the way, ‘cringe’ became the worst thing you could be.
That friend who talks too much? Cringe. Posting on Instagram or TikTok just because you want to? Cringe. Trying something new and failing in front of people? Peak cringe.
But what if our obsession with avoiding cringe isn’t really about embarrassment?
What if it’s actually about our fear of being seen—really, authentically seen?
The Real Reason We Fear Cringe
Let’s be honest: we don’t just fear looking silly. We fear the judgment that comes with stepping outside the norm. We fear the side-eyes, the whispers, the silent, “Why is she doing this?” from people who are just as scared of standing out as we are.
And sometimes, when we call something cringe, it’s just our own insecurity talking. It’s a defense mechanism—an attempt to convince ourselves that we’d never be that embarrassing.
But deep down, isn’t there a part of you that envies the people who just go for it? Who sing out loud in public? Who post their unfiltered thoughts without fear? Who chase their dreams without waiting for permission?
The Fear of Authenticity
Being authentic is risky. It means showing up as yourself, without a safety net of irony or self-deprecation. It means being excited about things without worrying if they’re ‘cool.’ It means trying, failing, and still letting yourself be seen.
But here’s the paradox: the people we admire the most? The ones who inspire us? They’re the ones who lean into their cringe. They’re the artists who put their weird, deeply personal work out there. The friends who speak their minds without fear. The ones who don’t let the possibility of looking stupid stop them from chasing what they love.
The truth is, no matter what you do, someone out there will think you’re cringe. You could be the most put-together, socially aware, trendiest person—and still, someone will roll their eyes at you. So why waste energy trying to avoid it? Why not just embrace it?
Breaking Free from the ‘Cringe’ Trap
So, the next time you stop yourself from doing something because you’re afraid it might be cringe, ask yourself: Am I actually embarrassed, or am I just scared of being real and perceived?
If you want to post something, wear something, or express something that feels too much—do it anyway.
When you catch yourself judging someone for being cringe, pause and ask: Are they actually embarrassing, or are they just brave?
Remember: Every ‘cool’ person you admire was probably cringe at some point. The difference? They didn’t let it stop them.
At the end of the day, ‘cringe’ is just another word for being alive without apology. It’s what happens when you’re fully immersed in your own joy, your own passions, and your own truth—without worrying about the spectators.
So, go ahead and be cringe! Sing too loudly, dance too freely, love too openly, care too much.
Because the alternative? A life spent dimming yourself just to make others comfortable.
And honestly? That’s far worse than a little secondhand embarrassment.
.png)
