Fall is the season of transitions. The temperature drops, iced coffee is swapped for hot, the light fades earlier every day, and we brace for winter. Campus trees shed their color, and the path to class is carpeted with amber leaves that cling to your boots like memories. Everything feels cinematic and fleeting. Endings and beginnings overlap in ways that feel impossible to untangle, knit together like sweaters. And in that chaos, we turn to melancholy music– not to dwell in sadness, but to make sense of it. Sad songs hold the words we can’t find. They let us cry without explaining why. In a world that insists we move on, sad music lets us pause, wrapping us like a blanket against a changing world.
“sad girl autumn”: a history
College girls have created a culture around this. “Sad Girl Autumn” is an internet phenomenon that emerged in 2019, following the “Hot Girl Summer” trend popularized by American rapper Megan Thee Stallion. It originated as a way to cope with the transition from summer and as a social media movement for young women who felt disconnected from the extroverted “Hot Girl Summer” persona. The phrase was revived in 2021, fueled by new music releases from prominent female artists across indie and pop, including Taylor Swift, Phoebe Bridgers, Mitski, Lana Del Rey, and Adele, among others, who are often associated with the “sad girl” aesthetic.
Leading the 2021 resurgence was Taylor Swift’s re-recording of her album Red, and the release of “All Too Well (Sad Girl Autumn Version)”. This particular record, a heartbreak anthem, gave emotional precision to the aesthetic. The stripped-down pop production left raw vulnerability, and in a generation that grew up with Swift, the power of her re-recordings has allowed girls to mirror that energy in their own processes of self-reclamation. “All Too Well (Sad Girl Autumn Version)” didn’t just soundtrack Sad Girl Autumn; it legitimized it. College-aged women reclaimed heartache, a feeling known all too well when learning independence and identity.
songs for the unspoken
Despite the careful curation of seemingly effortless Instagram photo dumps seen on your feed, college is undeniably hard. The shock of living away from home for the first time is terrifying as much as it is liberating. A crucible of homesickness, identity shifts, and academic stress makes everything feel heavy. In our fast-paced, hyper-documented world, emotional transparency has become a type of currency, a cultural capital. The ability to feel deeply signals authenticity in a superficial world. But when our own feelings become too complex or overwhelming to describe, we turn to artists whose words and melodies capture what we cannot, offering us the validation and clarity we need. A student at Vassar College says, “They turned emotional experiences that are devastating into art, which serves as a reminder of how negative emotions can be felt, survived, and turned into something beautiful” (Yaksha Gummadapu, The Miscellany News).
The Psychology of Feeling (Alone) Together
“I find hope in art that is emblematic of turmoil and pain because it is proof that there is a way to tell the story in hindsight” (Gummadapu). Art, in all its forms, turns pain into proof of survival– and maybe that’s why we gravitate toward music the way we do. Even when we’re all listening to the same songs, each one somehow feels like just ours. It’s the kind of aloneness that doesn’t actually feel lonely– it feels like being understood. It’s not about feeling sad; it’s about feeling. In 2012, the University of California conducted a study on emotional responses to different genres of music. While sad songs elicited the strongest reactions, “other more positive and complex emotions such as nostalgia, peacefulness, and wonder were also evident.” The researchers also found that two personality traits, openness to experience and empathy, were strongly linked to a deeper enjoyment and emotional response to sad music.
It is what defines women in this generation. We have a deeply empathetic nature; We notice the little things, feel the unspoken, and carry not only our own emotions but also the weight of those around us. Women are often stamped with the negative connotation of being “emotional,” but in reality, it just means that we’re deeply attuned to ourselves, each other, and the world around us. A patriarchal portrayal of weakness that is truly a gift. Our capacity to feel deeply helps us survive, thrive, and find meaning in chaos. In a generation that moves fast, scrolls faster, and is constantly documenting a glamorized life, emotional awareness has become both a superpower and a survival tool.
Sad Girl Autumn “is about mourning endings and contemplating new beginnings and being vulnerable to the winds of change” (Phoebe Buckwalter, The Spectator). As the bright greens of summer slowly rust into amber and crimson, something once so alive eventually “dies,” but it’s not a tragedy; it’s a necessary, natural shedding. There is beauty in letting go– the same beauty that emerges when tree branches stand bare but resilient, prepared to endure winter. Letting yourself feel melancholy is a kind of preparation for joy and the promise of spring. Sad music preserves, protects, and quietly prepares us for the renewal that inevitably follows.