You Call Her ‘Characterless.’ I Call Her Free

She danced too freely. Laughed too loudly. Wore red lipstick on a weekday. Dated two men in one year (scandal!). And now she's “characterless,” while her male counterpart is just “finding himself” with admirable consistency and six-pack selfies. Oh, sweet double standards—how exhausting you must be.

I’ve always found it funny—by which I mean tragically ironic—that a woman living her life like it’s hers is somehow a public concern. She doesn’t even need to do anything wild. She just has to exist outside the tight little lines society drew for her with a trembling hand and a superiority complex. Wear a crop top? She's inviting attention. Don't smile back? She's rude.
Have opinions about politics, sex, or the patriarchy? God forbid, she’s difficult. Throw in ambition, confidence, and a refusal to center her entire identity around male validation? Witch. Burn her. Meanwhile, Kevin is out here ghosting three women in one week and still getting "He’s just not ready for commitment" energy. Cute.

Here’s the truth no one tells you: a “characterless” woman is just a woman you can’t control. She makes you uncomfortable because she won’t shrink to fit your narrative. She’s writing her own. In pen. And it's spicy. She’s the girl who sleeps in on Sundays, leaves bad dates mid-margarita, and unapologetically blocks her ex when he sends “u up?” at 2:14 a.m.
She works hard, parties harder, and gasp enjoys her own company. She says “no” like she means it, and “yes” only when she wants to—not when she's expected to. And let me tell you: that terrifies people.

The term characterless is society’s beige little word for “woman who makes her own rules.” It's the polite insult your auntie uses after watching a girl do something she wishes she had the guts to do at 25. It's also deeply lazy. We never say characterless about men who cheat, lie, or emotionally vanish like they're in a Christopher Nolan film.
But a woman exploring, evolving, or god forbid—enjoying life? Suddenly we’re in a courtroom drama and she’s guilty of something. Usually “not being ashamed enough.” Spoiler: Shame is a scam. And she’s not buying it.

What nobody tells you while they’re busy judging her from their sofas and sans-skincare routine is this: she’s actually happy. She’s not looking for approval, because she already approves of herself. She's not perfect. But perfection was never the point. Freedom was.
And it looks damn good on her. She’s not a cautionary tale. She’s the main character. With messy buns, takeout containers, great playlists, and stories that’ll outlive every whisper about her “reputation.”

So next time you feel tempted to call a woman “characterless,” ask yourself: Do you mean she lacks morals? Or do you mean she has the audacity to live by her own? Because there's a difference. And it's called freedom. Roll credits. Mic drop. Red lipstick untouched.