The Genuine Cool Girl isn’t a Red-Pill Woman

That’s “the anxious, insecure woman pretending to be cool” you’re thinking of


Frankly, these two types of women — the genuine cool girl and the anxious, insecure ones, including “red-pillers” — are so totally different it baffles me that anyone continues to lump them together.

The confusion, I think, hinges on our understanding of “the Cool Girl” — specifically, which women actually are one, and which are only faking it and flailing.

Writer Tracy Moore wrote a piece that asserts “The New ‘Cool Girl’ Is a Red-Pill Woman.”

She starts off by suggesting that her readers “may not know the whole backstory on the Cool Girl.”

But after reading it, I’m not sure Moore herself understands the Cool Girl at all. (Or maybe I’m not a cool girl, and she’s just calling me one without knowing anything about me.)

Either way, she certainly doesn’t understand the difference between me and a Red Pill Woman — or any other “pseudo cool girl,” for that matter.

Because we are two totally different women.

The genuine cool girl and the pseudo-cool girl don’t even want the same thing

In fact, they differ so fundamentally that they effectively hold opposite motivations.

And since I apparently have to lay it out:

One is desperate for a man. The other does. not. give. a. fuck.

Red-Pill Women say that they:

“Work to identify their weaknesses, stifle their inner Bitch, and increase their female sexual value as much as possible in order to attract (or keep) a good Red Pill man.”

Genuine Cool Girls? We read that and are like:


“What Cool Girls want… is to be adored.”

lol, no. That’s the pseudo-cool girl you’re thinking of.

Genuine cool girls don’t care. We don’t identify ourselves by our relationship status, frame our lives and actions by dudes, or base our self-esteem on whether we have one.

The pseudo-cool girl craves a relationship. The genuine cool girl craves independence.

And they may both want emotional or financial security, but the genuine cool girl builds it herself.


Olivia Wilde in Drinking Buddies is not the Genuine Cool Girl. And Amy Dunne in Gone Girl is definitely not the Genuine Cool Girl. She’s about the farthest thing from genuine cool.

Jennifer Lawrence in Joy is the Genuine Cool Girl. Erin Brockovich is the Genuine Cool Girl. Arya Stark is Genuine Cool, and Daenerys is too. Mattie Ross from True Grit is definitely Genuine Cool.

Badass women with big ambitions are genuine cool. Women who act “cool” just to win a dude are not.

So just because we’re both “chill” doesn’t mean it’s for the same reason

Not all nonchalance is created equal.

It’s almost like Moore — and others like her — simply overheard both “the genuine cool girl” and “the pseudo-cool girl” talking about “being easy-going” and just fucking ran with it.

Like: “Neither of these groups complain! They’re both subservient!”

And we’re like… Yo.

Say what?


You familiar with “logical fallacies,” fam? Because that’s a logical fallacy.

(A and B both do C… And A is D. Therefore B must be D, too.)

Just because we both use the same words doesn’t make us the same women

You wanna know who else uses the same words?

Anorexics and dinner guests at 8 pm on Thanksgiving, both of whom will look you straight in the eye and tell you: “nah, I’m not hungry.”

For one of those groups, yeah, that shit’s an outright lie. But for the other, it’s the fucking truth. And just because the anorexics are hungry and lying about it doesn’t mean everyone at the table is.

“Anxious, insecure women who are pretending to be cool to win the hearts of men” are the anorexics, starving themselves and cooing “it’s okay!” in some self-sabotaging #fail at getting their needs met.

Genuine cool girls are fully able to feed themselves — and we do. We already ate, and we genuinely don’t care about eating more. So when we say “I’m okay” it’s because we fucking are.

But people like Moore are too alarmed about emotional anorexia — i.e., anxious women pretending to be cool — to discern the difference between healthy and fake. They’re judging genuine cool girls through the lens of the insecure woman and somehow making the other women’s problems about us.

Like, “if she’s faking it, then so are you!”

And we’re just over here like, “yeahbuuuut we’re not tho.”


The genuine cool girl isn’t bullshitting about her needs

Relationships being the big one.

Those are other people’s needs, not ours.

“There is, of course, an alternative: being yourself. But… being real, having needs, and expecting them to be met won’t inspire entire Reddit subforums, nor will it compel men.”

This is “being ourselves,” this is “real,” and these are our needs. We’re not here expecting others to satisfy us, and we don’t expect anyone except ourselves to get our needs met.

This is sincere.

“The problem is, we eventually all get pissed about something, and no adult relationship is immune from bare minimum, idiosyncrasies or disputes about who will pick up the groceries.”

I still get pissed, but I’ll be damned if it’s gonna be over groceries. (In all my life, I have literally never once fought about who picks up groceries. I can’t imagine a case where I would.)

Genuine cool girls and pseudo-cool girls idea of “easy-going” doesn’t even look the same

Here’s where Moore really fucked up her homework.

She was right that Red Pill Women:

“Accept the natural differences between men and women… understand that women want to breed… want a good mate… cultivate maximum femininity and deference to attract one… [and] diligently work on avoiding commentary that could ever resemble nagging

Red Pill rules include no complaining… forgoing an equal relationship, always being positive, and constantly working on yourself to be more pleasing to a man.”

All of this to attract men who:

“Push the 1950s narrative of what is correct female behavior… Being a great catch means shrinking yourself to unbelievably tinier and tinier dimensions of not caring and not complaining — combined with maximum sexual availability — so that the man you’re with doesn’t have to be hassled.”

These dudes want:

“A highly desirable and extraordinarily rare woman who ‘surpasses all other women in personality, looks, and behavior’…. Incredibly eager to please and perennially pleasant; their lives and personalities are entirely ordered around having the preferences of a potato.”

All of that’s true.

But then Moore fucked up with:

“This ideal is indistinguishable from Gage’s manifesto.”

and I’m all:


lol. wuht?

Tracy… sweetie.

No.

Genuine cool girls don’t give a fuck about “mates.” We can live quite happily being single, and we will walk if shit ain’t right. We could go our whole lives never getting married, and we aren’t motivated by whether or not we “breed.”

Some of us are the farthest thing from feminine, and we don’t give a fuck about “correct female behavior.” (I mean, srsly, surely you didn’t miss this point, if nothing else?)


We don’t care about whether there are “natural differences between men and women” because usually we’re too busy busting ass on our own shit regardless. We’re our own captain around here.

I am not pleasant (lol) and I’m definitely not “eager to please.” No one in my life, especially partners, would argue otherwise. Just because I don’t nag or hassle doesn’t mean I’m a walking ray of sunshine.

The reason I refuse to fight about stupid shit is not that I care about being “perennially pleasant.” It’s because stupid shit is too small to care about.

I opened my “fighting” article with this, but I’ll repeat it again:

“You can tell the size of a man by the size of the things that bother him.”

You know the type of person who always finds something to complain about? The silverware, the lighting, the weather, the driver in front of them… the way the trash can’s put back, the way the dishwasher’s loaded, who last ran it, who last paid for dinner, who last went down on whom…

Do these people seem happy to you? (And does complaining and score-keeping make them any happier?)

Small people are bothered by small shit — and at the end of it all, “small shit” is all chores and porn are.

But just because I don’t fight about laundry doesn’t mean I roll over for anything. My deal-breakers are just a whole lot bigger. I don’t give a fuck about what he wants to do with his life — it’s his fucking life — but I care an awful lot about mine and him not harming me while I live it.

My biggest demand (and deal-breaker) is emotional stability and self esteem. I expect partners to be emotionally self-sufficient. I expect them to fulfill their emotional needs and build their own self esteem rather than hanging on me for them. I expect them to be emotionally and mentally healthy, not toxic. I expect them to refrain from pettiness, manipulation, superficiality, short-sightedness, revenge, selfishness, etc (and I hold us both to this.) I expect to be value-add, not completion, in each other’s lives.

This also means I expect my partner to be the sort of person who doesn’t need me to act “tiny” in order to feel big or “like a man.”

That sort of shit is where I take a stand.

So. Still wanna talk “preferences?” Here are mine, deemed “potato” and “remarkably dull.”

Genuine cool girl “preferences” and priorities

Moore wants to know:

“If the ‘big shit’ isn’t money, time spent together, division of domestic labor, sex (quality and frequency), and other kinds of domestic negotiations, what is actually left to focus on — whether the earthquake survival kit is stocked?”

Oh, god.

Oh… honey…


It makes me a little sad this even has to be explained.

It’s like when people used to ask me how I “got around Chicago” without owning a car. Or what I do with all my time if I don’t watch TV or follow sports.

Worse, though, it’s more like when my grandmother asks what I’ll do with my life if I never have kids. Or who — pray tell — will take care of me if I never get married(!)

It pains me to lay this out, and I worry we still won’t really get there, but here goes:

The “bigger shit” — what’s “actually left to focus on” — is life, man. It’s fucking life.

It’s life, and it’s love. It’s growing as individuals — investing in your own development, and supporting each other’s. It’s choosing vocations that excite you, and throwing yourselves at it. It’s building something, both separately and together. It’s learning, reading, challenging yourselves and each other. It’s being present — in your own life and, to the extent that it works, in theirs too. It’s living.

From Moore’s own article, quoting Avery Jane Spencer, it’s:

“Healthy debate, independent interests, self-examination… risk.”

In other words, “what’s left” is: everything that actually matters.

I’m chill and I don’t fight about petty details because, babe, I’ve just got such a fucking “cool girl” hard-on for the big picture.

And if I don’t have you here, with all that, I probably won’t ever have you.

But you certainly can’t say I didn’t fucking try. I cared and I “spoke up” like whoa in here.

Because I’m fucking cool like that.


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