Hype
Coming-of-age is an opinion column where Ateneans share their thoughts on a specific topic that fits Vantage’s beats. From in-depth analyses of TV series to miscellaneous musings in music (and everything in between), this is a space to spread and inspire thought-provoking ideas.
In this piece, Vantage Magazine Staffer Lekxie explores the “performative male” phenomenon, unpacking the growing fascination with indifference and the paradox of trying to appear effortlessly unique through personal experiences from her early adolescent years.
GROWING UP, being the odd one out was often one of the worst labels to have. Showing up to school without a close-knit group of friends or the trendiest outfit became the modern equivalent of a Babylonian exile. Yet today, people aspire to be the complete opposite—to stand out and cultivate a magnetic image of individuality while somehow simultaneously projecting effortlessness.
Due to my interests, hobbies, and sheer lack of friends, I was lucky enough to assume the title of the “weird kid” in high school. I was one of those kids who were often stood up in plans at the last minute, picked last in P.E. games, and made the scapegoat in petty catfights. While my peers experienced the highs and lows of teenagehood, I barely felt the beginnings of adolescence.
Although my peculiarity never bothered me then, things began to change as I got older. I became hyper-aware and self-conscious of how others perceived me—the way I spoke, the things I was passionate about, and the nitty-gritty of my mannerisms brought me deprecating, internalized shame that was hard to let go.
Like many others raised in the era of social media, I began to associate my self-worth with external validation. Soon enough, I figured that to be liked meant to appear collected yet unbothered—to care just enough, but never too much. This ultimately drove me to become a puppeteer of my own image, painfully controlling every aspect of my existence to mirror a cooler and detached version of myself.
In hindsight, the performance I led mirrors what the public now calls the “performative male” phenomenon. Interpreted as the modern generation’s fixation on appearing nonchalant yet chic, the trend promotes a new form of performance, rooted in self-restraint and careful curation.
This modern appeal is built on reinventing one’s personality to generate an image of authenticity through the appreciation of aesthetic art, food, media, and fashion, accompanied by a seemingly laid-back persona. While this encourages individuality in the guise of creative self-expression, it ironically perpetuates emotional detachment that stifles our natural ability to be authentic.
My desire to be liked, along with the growing pains I experienced, reshaped nearly everything about me: my interests, appearance, and self-image. Though I looked composed on the outside, the calculated presentation kept me in a tight grip. Only later did I realize that this performative act reflects the dissonance created by our idealization of nonchalance: a controlled yet fragmented projection of ourselves that we maintain to complete an illusion of desirability.
Afraid of returning to the ridicule I once endured, I tried to bury every trace of unlikability in the past. Over time, this made it difficult to navigate romantic and platonic relationships that needed a deeper level of vulnerability and emotional regulation—skills that were compromised by the fear of putting down a mask.
Today, the fixation on balancing indifference and standing out has turned into the glorification of emotional unavailability and the dismissal of vulnerability in relationships—the very aspects that make us truly human. In our pursuit of effortless appeal, we often lose sight of what matters, mimicking the same polished version of other people and opposing the very aspects that make us one of a kind.
Got an idea for an opinion piece you want to share with us? Watch out for our call for Coming-of-age submissions this second semester!
