I have always been the “good girl.” The one who follows the rules, says her prayers and keeps her hands (and everything else) to herself. The one who’s supposed to wait for the right person, the right time, the right everything. And for the most part, I was okay with that—until I wasn’t.
Growing up as a Black, plus-sized Christian woman, I was taught that my body is a temple and my worth isn’t tied to physical validation. But no one ever prepared me for how lonely that would feel. No one ever told me that boys wouldn’t line up to appreciate my “self-respect.” I assumed that if I stayed patient, if I stayed good, someone would recognize my value and want me for me. Instead, I’ve found that most guys aren’t interested in a girl who won’t “get down and dirty.”
College only made it harder. Hookup culture is everywhere—casual flings, sneaky links, situationships with no real direction. And when you don’t engage in any of that, you start to feel like an outsider. There have been moments where I’ve questioned myself, wondering if I’m missing out, if I’m being too rigid, if I should just loosen up and see what happens. It’s tough sitting in a dorm room listening to my friends talk about their latest escapades while I quietly wonder if I’ll ever have someone who wants me for more than just a late-night text, a random hookup, or anything at all.
I tried once. Just to see if maybe I was the problem. If maybe I’d built up this guilt in my head and it wasn’t that deep. I thought maybe, just maybe, this was what I needed to do to feel wanted. Spoiler alert: it didn’t work. I felt even more guilty as if I am not my true self. Trying to add to the conversation about “yeah girl, my man, my man, my man”, just made me feel horrible because he wasn’t even my man. He never was. The moment it started, I felt like I was betraying myself. I walked away from that experience feeling empty instead of empowered, guilty instead of grown.
So why is doing the “right” thing so hard? Why does it feel like choosing myself means losing out on connections and moments of college?
Because the world isn’t made for good girls. It never has been. Society tells women to be pure but punishes them when they actually are. We’re either too fast or too frigid, too desperate or too difficult. And when you add being Black and plus-sized into the mix? Whew. The world already struggles to see us as desirable, and when you add a strong moral compass into the equation, it feels like you’re handing out rejection slips before they even get the chance to hand you one. This also means that I constantly just put myself down or I never even give myself a chance.
But here’s the thing: being a good girl isn’t a weakness. It’s a superpower.
The world tells me I should change, but I refuse. There is power in knowing who I am and standing firm in it. There is power in valuing myself enough to wait for what I deserve. And there is power in not settling for temporary validation when I know I am worth something permanent. The right person—the one who sees and values all of me—won’t see my standards as a challenge but as a reflection of my worth.
I have always been told that maybe my standards are “too high” or that I need to “let loose and have fun”. But trust me, I’ve tried and that’s really not me.
I’ve realized that I don’t need to bend or break to fit into college culture. I don’t need to force myself into a hookup just to feel seen. My value doesn’t decrease just because some guys don’t recognize it. And if that means a little more loneliness now, so be it. I’d rather be alone with my self-respect than surrounded by people who don’t appreciate me and only want to use me for one thing, and not even a good thing.
So, no, I won’t change. I won’t compromise. And I won’t apologize for knowing my value. Being a good girl is hard, but it means I’m strong. It means I have control over my own story. And that? That’s the most powerful thing of all.
So there is no guilt in my heart, the future me and my love story are thanking me.