Crying laughing emoji face. Skinny jeans. Pumpkin-spiced lattes. Taylor Swift tattoos. The pause at the start of a voice note. Are you cringing yet, or shall I continue with this modern-day torture rack? Yes, my friends (cringe), I’m talking about the cringe.

In the viral article “Cringe! How Millennials Became Uncool,” Chloe Hamilton wrote for The Guardian, she explored when the switch flipped — when everything that once defined Millennial identity suddenly became… humiliating. The divide between Gen Z and Millennials feels deeper than any generational rift before it. Maybe it’s because our lives are lived entirely online, under the microscope of group chats and TikTok algorithms. Maybe it’s because trends now recycle faster than our attention spans. (Seriously, can someone just tell me what jeans to wear??)

We’re all so terrified of being perceived as cringeworthy that we’d rather live beige, unremarkable lives than risk standing out. But here’s the problem: fear of cringe isn’t just holding us back from joy — it’s turning us into boring, emotionally stunted friends.

Betches spoke to psychotherapist and author Eloise Skinner to unpack why we fear being cringe and how to break free of the shame spiral.

How To Be Cringe But Free: Why We’re Afraid Of Looking Stupid And How To Get Over It

What Even Is Cringe?

Once upon a time, “cringe” literally meant to shrink back — think submissive head tilt in a medieval court. Then it evolved into that secondhand embarrassment we felt watching Girls and listening to Hannah Horvath declare herself “the voice of a generation.” Now? Cringe is a buzzword and a weapon — used to gatekeep what’s “cool” and shame anyone who dares to try.

It’s cringe to care too much — especially about specific things like romantasy books, the bridge in a Taylor Swift song, or pilates. It’s cringe to take up a new hobby at 30. To sing out loud. To post on main. To be bad at something publicly.

While we shouldn’t go around proclaiming that we’re “the voice of our generation” (even though I totes am), we limit ourselves by declaring things to be cringe. Ultimately, cringe is subjective. I know it doesn’t feel that way when everyone’s posting hot takes and outfit vids on TikTok (even though TikTok is apparently also cringe now??). One person’s cringe is another person’s “main character energy.”

I’m still going to make fun of people who wear those tiny invisible socks, as that’s just a matter of hygiene and my internal cankle shame, but I will not let that extend to all cringe behaviors — watch this space.

Why Are We SO Terrified Of Being Cringe?

Last year, I went to dinner with my sister and her partner for her birthday (yes, I was the single third wheel, thank you for noticing!!). I asked the waiter to bring out a slice of cake with candles. Time passed. I saw the waiter walking over and immediately launched into “Happy Birthday,” full theater-kid mode.

Only… he walked right past us to the next table. I died. My sister and brother-in-law died watching me. The waiter circled back to apologize — they’d forgotten my request — but the damage? Eternal. That story is now a core memory in every family gathering. I often lie awake thinking about it. Why do moments like this haunt us?

“We are, fundamentally, social creatures, and embarrassment can often signal a risk of social disconnection or exclusion,” Skinner explains. “Shame and feelings of vulnerability developed from historical community fears of being removed from a dominant social group, which could have had real-world implications for our survival. This fear can still carry through to our behaviors and instinctive reactions today.” So, how do we let go of this instinctive fear?

Hot Tips For Getting Cringe-Comfortable

✅ Start to face the fear of embarrassment by figuring out what’s the root cause of it. “For example, that people will dislike us if we do something embarrassing,” Skinner says. “Then challenge negative thoughts with more realistic assessments, like reminding ourselves that it’s more likely that no one really cares.”

She’s so right. In moments like these, I return to Jemima Kirke’s eternal wisdom: “I think you guys might be thinking about yourselves too much.” While I am forced to stay in that restaurant, singing “Happy Birthday” to a bald man and his suspicious wife, everyone else has left the restaurant.  

✅ Step outside of your comfort zone in small doses. Skinner suggests we “slowly reshape our fears by stepping outside our comfort zone when it comes to cringe or embarrassing behaviors.” Join the dance circle. Speak up in a meeting. Slide into someone’s DMs. Post the thirst trap. Compliment a stranger’s outfit. “We might find that experiencing the fear — in small doses — helps us see that it isn’t as scary as we’d thought,” she explains.

✅ Romanticize your embarrassment. Pretend you’re in a coming-of-age movie. Like, name a romcom character that isn’t kinda cringe. If you need to, just tell yourself, “This is cringe, but I’m doing it anyway.” You’re not pretending it’s cool — you’re doing it despite knowing it’s not. That’s power.

✅ Surround yourself with people who celebrate your weirdness. (Or at least don’t film it for Stories.) Influencer Em Clarkson once said on her podcast, Should I Delete That?: “If you wouldn’t go to someone for advice, why do you accept criticism from them?” Like YES. Think about why you don’t value these people’s opinions unless they’re negative. My weirdest self is the version my closest friends know best. They roll their eyes. But they love it. (I think.)

Is Being Cringe Worth It? 

Thankfully, I’m not the only one who suffered a birthday cake-related embarassment. In a viral tweet, X user @brieyonce shared a relatable cringe moment that actually felt really wholesome:

“Yesterday I went to dinner and only casually mentioned my birthday is this week & the server brought me a little dessert & sang happy birthday. Like very sweet gesture on its own but she was a little embarrassed singing and I just had this thought: That a stranger temporarily being kinda embarrassed to do something kind for me is an excellent maker for good community. I know that’s a little too deep for a free cannoli but yeah it just made me #think.”

You gotta join in the birthday song. You don’t have to clap when the plane lands (please don’t), but you do need to cheer at the end of a show. You have to try and fail at beach volleyball. You have to wear your concert merch out loud and proud.

You have to live your life without fearing which TikTok you might end up in. Yes, the algorithm is always watching, but that shouldn’t dictate our behavior. Those moments of cringe allow you to connect with others through passion, obsession, and authenticity. That’s how we connect. That’s how people know who we really are.

I am cringe, but I am free, and I am certainly not getting that tattooed onto my body.