Letters from the Soft Life: Does protecting my peace makes me bougie?

— A Letter from Renee
Written by Liberian Jewels

Dear Liberian Jewels,

I used to think soft life was for women who didn’t grow up with trauma in the attic and bills in the mailbox.

You know, the girls who always had matching socks, journals with leather covers, and the emotional bandwidth to cry in therapy and still make it to brunch. Meanwhile, I was trying to decide between paying the light bill or buying new tires. Soft life? I was just trying to stay alive.

But then something shifted. Not because I got rich or relocated — but because I got tired. Tired of being emotionally available for people who treated me like an option.

So I gave myself permission to rest. Not just naps — real rest. Soul rest. No longer performing. No longer proving. Just being.

Now? My soft life doesn’t look like Pinterest. Some days it’s ramen noodles and lavender incense. Other days it’s walking past the phone while it rings because I simply don’t have it in me today. And that’s okay.

I’m softer now — but not weaker.
I smile more, even when I’m alone. I budget peace the same way I used to budget groceries. And if protecting my peace makes me "bougie," then pass me the oat milk and incense.

Soft life is mine. Not because life got easy — but because I stopped making it harder.

Thank you for making space for women like me who are still softening without losing our edge.

Still learning how to rest without guilt,
— Renee