A blog post by Pepetoe, Elena Overfield

A few years ago, if you’d asked me what kind of girlfriend I wanted to be, I’d have answered without hesitation: the chill one. The girl who never complained. The girl who wasn’t “high maintenance”. The girl who didn’t ask too many questions. The girl who didn’t care if plans changed. The girl who wasn’t bothered when texts took hours to reply to. The girl who never got upset. The girl who laughed everything off. The girl who didn’t need reassurance.

Basically… the girl who barely had any needs at all, because somewhere along the way, I became convinced that was the kind of woman people wanted.

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Somewhere Along The Way, Women Started Competing To Need Less

Have you noticed how often women are praised for asking for almost nothing?

“She’s so laid back.”

“She’s just happy to go with the flow.”

“She doesn’t nag.”

“She’s not like other girls.”

“She’s so low maintenance.”

As though the greatest compliment we can receive is that we’re easy. Easy to date. Easy to love. Easy to disappoint. Easy to ignore. Easy to fit around somebody else’s life. And I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to think we’ve confused emotional suppression with emotional maturity.

The “Cool Girl” Is Exhausting

I spent years trying to become someone who didn’t seem bothered. Plans changed? “No worries!” I felt ignored? “It’s fine!” Something upset me? “Don’t be silly, Ellie. You’re overreacting.” I’d rehearse conversations in my head before saying anything out loud. Am I allowed to bring this up? Will this make me look clingy? What if they think I’m dramatic? So instead… I’d stay quiet. Not because I was okay, but because I was scared of what would happen if I admitted I wasn’t. Looking back, pretending not to care was one of the most exhausting things I’ve ever done.

I Wasn’t Easygoing. I Was Afraid.

There’s a huge difference. I wasn’t naturally relaxed. I wasn’t effortlessly confident. I wasn’t some mysterious, independent woman who never needed reassurance. I was terrified. Terrified that if I expressed a need, I’d be labelled difficult. Terrified that if I asked for consistency, I’d be called needy. Terrified that if I admitted something had hurt me, I’d be told I was too emotional. So instead, I became very good at swallowing my feelings. Which is ironic, because people often tell you communication is the key to a healthy relationship, yet so many of us have learnt that communicating our needs makes us difficult.

I Think My Eating Disorder Taught Me This

The more I’ve reflected recently, the more I realise this pattern didn’t begin with dating. It began years before. My eating disorder taught me that taking up less space made me more acceptable. Smaller body, smaller appetite, smaller presence.

Recovery meant learning to nourish my body again. But emotionally? I think I was still trying to disappear. Instead of becoming physically smaller, I started trying to become emotionally smaller. Don’t cry, don’t ask, don’t need. Don’t expect, don’t inconvenience anyone, don’t make yourself difficult to love. It’s amazing how an illness can change shape without you even noticing.

We’ve Started Calling Boundaries “Drama”

One thing that really frustrates me is how quickly women are labelled when they simply express a need. She asks for communication – she’s needy. She wants consistency – she’s clingy. She says something upset her – she’s dramatic. She sets a boundary – she’s difficult. She walks away – she’s cold.

It feels like there’s no winning, because if you stay silent, your needs go unmet. But if you speak, suddenly you’re “too much.” No wonder so many women convince themselves to settle.

Imagine Telling Your Best Friend To Accept Less

This is something I asked myself after my last relationship ended. If my best friend came to me and said:

“He never tells me when plans change.”

“I never know where I stand.”

“I feel dismissed when I try to explain how I feel.”

“I constantly feel like I’m asking for too much.”

Would I tell her to stop being needy? Absolutely not. I’d probably tell her she deserves better. So, why was I speaking to myself differently? Why did everyone else’s emotional needs deserve compassion except my own?

In short, the right people want to understand you, for exactly who you are, – and this is one of the biggest mindset shifts I’ve had recently. The right people won’t be irritated by your vulnerability; they’ll be curious about it. If something hurts you, they’ll want to understand why. Not because they’ll always agree, not because they’ll never make mistakes, but because they care enough to understand your experience of the world.

That’s what emotional safety looks like. Not perfection. Curiosity.

Stop Trying To Become Easier To Love

This might be the biggest lesson I’m learning. I’ve spent years and years trying to become easier. Easier to date, easier to understand, easier to fit around someone else’s schedule, easier to forgive, easier to disappoint. And honestly? I’m exhausted.

Maybe the goal was never to become easier to love. Maybe the goal is finding people who don’t require you to edit yourself in the first place. People who don’t make you apologise for having emotions. People who don’t make you question whether your needs are valid. People who don’t make you feel like your existence is an inconvenience.

To Anyone Trying To Be The “Chill Girl”

Can I tell you something? You don’t get a medal for pretending you’re okay. You don’t win points for swallowing your feelings. You don’t become more lovable by becoming less yourself. You simply become harder to recognise.

The “chill girl” isn’t confident. She’s often just scared: scared of being abandoned, scared of rejection, and scared that expressing herself will cost her the relationship.

So, here’s what I’m slowly learning. If expressing your needs ends the relationship… it probably wasn’t your needs that ended it. It was the fact that one person was willing to meet them, and the other wasn’t. That’s compatibility. Not failure.

So, here’s to asking the question, sending the text, having the conversation, setting the boundary, taking up space, and never apologising for being human.

Maybe the “chill girl” never really existed. Maybe she was just a woman who learnt that being loved felt safer than being honest. And I don’t know about you… but I’d rather be honest.