Aligned Vibes

Soul Over Status: A Middle-Aged Millennial’s Take on What Actually Matters

So the other day, I saw an ad for this vibey, spiritual athleisure brand—think “Chakras aligned, outfit divine”—and they had a hoodie that said “Soul over Status” on the back. I almost hit add to cart right then and there. I mean, YES. Take my money.

But then I remembered I live in the Southwest, and let’s be honest: wearing a hoodie past April is a one-way ticket to heatstroke. Still, the message stuck with me. Soul over Status. Whew. If that’s not the whole mood I’ve been moving into lately—especially when it comes to relationships (romantic and platonic)—then I don’t know what is.

There was a time when I really did buy into the shiny things. And I’m not judging that version of me—she was doing her best. There’s a certain thrill that comes with pulling up in the sleek car, designer bag tossed effortlessly into the passenger seat, looking like the moment. But deep down? That girl was tired. She was in a connection that looked good on paper, in pictures, and in public—but privately, it was hollow. I wasn’t loved for me. I was admired for what I symbolized. A trophy. A good look. A flex.

Fast forward to today, where I’m way less interested in aesthetics and way more interested in alignment.

Let me be clear—I still enjoy nice things. I splurge on my hair extensions. My nails stay done. I love a luxe facial and a solid pair of heels. But I no longer confuse those things with my worth. They’re not prerequisites to my value—they’re just accessories to it.

And when it comes to romantic relationships? I’ve never been the “let me be your prize in the Cracker Jack box” type. (Yes, I know I just aged myself with that reference, but if you know, you know.) I’ve had people tell me they were initially interested because they found me physically attractive—and okay, fine, attraction matters. But I’ve also had someone tell me they wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t hot. That one stung. Especially because I loved that person deeply. I saw them. I connected to something deeper. But for them, it was surface-level. Conditional. And that was devastating.

It made me wonder: what kind of person only values appearance and status? What kind of connection can really grow from that?

People with strong narcissistic traits, for example, are often drawn to what things look like rather than what they feel like. For them, relationships are about image management. They want someone who enhances their perceived value—someone who looks good on their arm, who fits the narrative. It’s about control, not connection. Ego, not intimacy.

And yeah, I’ve been there too. I’ve been that girl who stayed because the relationship “looked good.” I tied my identity to the external—because it felt safer than facing the internal. But eventually, I had to ask myself: when the dust settles and the filters fade, who’s really in this with me?

Now, in this solidly middle-aged millennial chapter (because let’s be honest—we’re not the new kids anymore), I know better. And I want better.

Looks fade. Bodies change. Life throws curveballs. Illness, aging, grief, stress—they don’t care how photogenic you are. And when those things show up, you’re going to want someone who’s in it with you because they love your soul, not your status.

I can’t do shallow. I can’t do superficial. And I definitely can’t vibe with fake.

So no, I didn’t buy the hoodie. But the message? That’s stitched all over my heart these days.

Soul. Over. Status.

Always.

Here’s to choosing soul every time,
LC