Cold? I’m Just Emotionally Refrigerated!

Apparently, “cold and heartless” doesn’t go with my skincare routine.

So, picture this: you’re fresh out of a heartbreak, mascara slightly smudged, playlist dangerously emotional, and your For You Page decides to become your life coach.

Every reel screams:

“Become unbothered!”

“Never chase, just replace!”

“Focus on the grind, king/queen!”

And suddenly you’re like, yeah, ok, maybe I’m the villain now.

This is the moment when your brain starts glitching like a Windows 98 computer. You’re minding your own business, trying to eat a cookie in peace, and suddenly, Bam! Your phone shows you another reel about becoming a “sigma”.

Apparently, if you just “focus on the grind” and “trust no one”, you’ll magically stop feeling pain. So there I was, sitting in my room, wrapped in a blanket of denial, whispering to myself, “Never chase. Replace.” while crying into a tub of ice cream.

Spoiler: I did, in fact, chase.

Mostly my dignity.

The internet makes detachment look like an aesthetic. Black clothes, gym selfies with the caption: “Silence is the loudest revenge”. And for two days, I was committed. I became the villain in my own romantic comedy. I stopped replying to texts, wore shades indoors, and listened to The Weeknd like I was auditioning for a tragic movie montage.

But the thing about pretending to be heartless? It’s exhausting when you’re built for passion. You can’t be “unbothered” when you’re literally checking who viewed your story every two minutes. You can’t act mysterious when your entire Notes app is a monologue.

People online will sell you the fantasy that being detached is being powerful. But the truth is that numbness isn’t peace, it’s pause mode.

It’s giving yourself the illusion of control when what you really need is a little chaos, a little softness, and a lot of patience. Healing doesn’t happen in silence; it occurs in laughter, in long showers, in crying at midnight, and laughing about it at 2 a.m. It’s messy, it’s human, and honestly, I’d rather be embarrassingly human than emotionally constipated.

You can post all the “self-love era” quotes you want, but it hits different when you actually start doing things for yourself.

I stopped scrolling for validation and started romanticizing the little things, like my coffee, my playlists, the way the sun hit my face when I wasn’t too busy texting someone who didn’t care. You don’t need to become a villain; you need to become unavailable to people who drain you. Boundaries aren’t walls; they’re velvet ropes, which are exclusive access only.

Let’s stop pretending love is a problem. Love didn’t wreck you; your expectations did, your overgiving did, your hope that they’d see your worth did.

You’re still capable of the softest kind of love, the kind that doesn’t beg, that doesn’t prove, that just is. The right love won’t demand that you shrink yourself to fit someone else’s comfort zone. It’ll meet you where you are — self-respecting, a little sarcastic, emotionally refrigerated but still warm enough to melt for the right person.

“Loving yourself” sounds cute until it means calling yourself out. Like, “Hey, babe, maybe don’t text your ex just because Mercury is in retrograde.” Or, “No, we don’t need to stalk their new partner again. We’ve seen enough.”

Self-love isn’t manicures and affirmations (though both help). It’s accountability, and knowing when to walk away. It’s saying, “I deserve better,” and actually meaning it this time. Even if those reels make detachment look sexy, adorned with iced coffee, ignoring texts, and radiating peace like you’ve been blessed by Zeus himself, the truth is that you’re ignoring messages from people while staring at your phone for that one notification.

Here’s what I learned after trying the whole “cold and heartless” thing: it’s not sustainable. You can’t out-reel your emotions. You can’t gaslight yourself into healing. You can, however, buy a cute journal, blast Beyoncé, and start writing love letters to the one person who actually deserves your loyalty, i.e., you.

The real glow-up isn’t about being untouched by love; it’s about not letting love ruin you. It’s learning to romanticize your own presence, to flirt with life again.

Now, I am learning to move through life with soft confidence. I’ve realised that I don’t need to be cold, just clear. I still believe in love, but I am gradually teaching myself to no longer audition for it, and if that makes me a “Sigma,” then fine. But I’m the version that drinks coffee, cries at rom-coms, and builds empires anyway.

Always remember that the real power move isn’t detachment, it’s emotional intelligence. It’s healing loudly, laughing again, and realizing that “moving on” doesn’t mean moving away from love but, in fact, means moving closer to yourself.

So maybe I’m emotionally refrigerated, but inside, the temperature’s perfect. Maybe I’m not “cold.” I’m just chill with boundaries.

And honestly? That’s way hotter.

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Disclaimer: pictures have been taken from pinterest.