Take Off Your Big Girl Pants (And Set Them On Fire)

Anna Friemoth

There’s a phrase women hear when we’re expected to pull ourselves together, shut up about the discomfort, and get on with it: Put on your big girl pants.

It’s a command. A directive. A snide little push toward compliance courage.

When people say put on your big girl pants, what they really mean is: Step up. Handle it. Do what needs to be done. A “mature” woman doesn’t hesitate. She doesn’t falter. She doesn’t ask for help. She absorbs.

We’re supposed to take up more responsibility but not more space. To absorb more impact but not more power. To toughen up but never get too tough, because then we’re difficult.

Men get to be reckless, self-indulgent, openly furious. Women are expected to be measured, composed, and endlessly responsible—no rage, no cracks, no inconvenient needs. Just a quiet, steady march toward exhaustion.

Well, here’s an alternative: BURN THEM.

We’re sold a set of unspoken rules about what it means to be serious—to be taken seriously, to be successful, to be worthy of attention.

And all of them are exhausting.

• You need to build a real business. (Or else it’s just a hobby, a side hustle, a cute little project.)

• You need to be visible. (Or else you don’t exist.)

• You need to share your personal life. (Because “authenticity” is now a performance.)

• You need to be vulnerable to be credible. (Because God forbid you just be good at what you do.)

• You need to make 6 or 7 figures to be a success. (Because sustainability and enough-ness aren’t sexy.)

• You need to look the part. (Because competence alone isn’t enough—you need the right skin, the right shape, the right aesthetic to be taken seriously.)

We’re told we need all this to be taken seriously. But confidence isn’t built on how we look, what we share, or how much we make. It’s rooted in what we know we bring—whether it’s recognised or not.

Guess what?

The real power move is not to play the game, but to opt out of it.

We are conditioned to prioritise profit over people—as if the only way to prove our worth is by making more, scaling bigger, selling harder.

But what if we measure success differently?

What if we stop centering money and start centering connection?

Because in a world that’s wringing every last drop of energy from us—through rising costs, endless demands, the pressure to do more with less—choosing people over profit is an act of resistance.

It’s counterintuitive. It’s inconvenient. But it’s also true.

Think about it: Who actually gets to be private, selective, and low-key in their work without being punished for it? Men.

Who gets to be an expert without bleeding out their personal trauma for credibility? Men.

Who gets to have “enough” and call it a win, without being pushed to scale, optimise, or strive for more? Not us.

So, what if we just stopped? What if we stopped proving and just did the damn work?

What if we rejected the demand for constant exposure, the lie that worth is tied to financial success, and the myth that bigger is always better?

Because real impact isn’t about performance. And real power isn’t about playing along.

The world will tell you to put on your big girl pants.

But I say: Take them off. Set them on fire. And walk away.

Want More on This?

The “big girl pants” narrative shows up everywhere—from the pressure to endure, to the way our clothes are literally designed, to the cultural messaging hidden in an 80s track. If this essay hit home, here are a few more places to take the conversation:

🔗 Micah Larsen on CPTSD & Big Girl Pants – When “put on your big girl pants” is a demand to push through trauma, no matter the cost.

🔗 Kehinde Oni on Why Your Pants Still Don’t Fit – A brilliant dive into the hidden measurements in trouser-making systems—and why so many pants, quite literally, don’t fit.

🔗 A ‘Detachable Penis’ – What’s in some people’s pants—or rather, what’s not. A forgotten pop culture gem.

PARENTS WHO THINK TO THE COMMENTS 👇🏻

Big girl pants off, match lit, fire spreading

👉 What’s one expectation you’re done playing along with? Meet me in the comments, I’ll go first.

Haris Nukem

Here’s to You,
Danusia x