Cringe Culture Isn’t Just a Joke Anymore
There’s an unspoken rule shaping how Gen Z (born between 1997 and 2012) moves through the world: don’t try too hard, don’t be seen caring too much, and above all, don’t be cringe. What used to be a harmless internet joke has turned into something much bigger. Calling someone “cringe” isn’t just about secondhand embarrassment anymore. It’s a social judgment. It’s a way of saying, “this behavior isn’t acceptable” (Seebold, 2025). The term “cringe” is often applied to behaviors that involve visible sincerity such as openly sharing emotional posts, expressing strong enthusiasm for personal interests, experimenting with identity or self-presentation in public spaces, or using humor and slang that feels out of sync with one’s peer group. Online, that judgment spreads fast. People get screenshotted, reposted, mocked, and turned into entertainment. Moments of ordinary self-expression are detached from context and circulated for criticisms, often escalating embarrassment into collective ridicule. When humiliating exposure is always possible, we change how we act: we become on guard, hesitant, and above all, afraid to be seen as putting in visible effort – whether that means expressing genuine interest or engaging openly in trial and error in front of others.
Cringe culture is slowly deteriorating sincerity and authenticity. Caring gets labeled as trying too hard and vulnerability turns into content for someone else’s joke. This leads to people adapting to these social media norms. They become ironic, detached, and emotionally guarded because it feels safer to act like you don’t care than to risk being seen caring too much.
Yet real connection doesn’t work like that. Psychological research shows that emotions like embarrassment and shame play a role in enforcing social norms, especially in group settings (Mayer, Paulus, & Krach, 2021). Shame is often tied to being visibly “caught” in a social misstep, and social media heightens this by making such moments more public, persistent, and easily circulated beyond their original context. In this sense, “don’t be cringe” can also function as a demand not to provoke discomfort in others (secondhand embarrassment) or disrupt social ease through visible awkwardness or overexposure. Cringeworthy: A Theory of Awkwardness (2018) by Melissa Dahl examines why awkward moments feel so uncomfortable, arguing that cringe is closely tied to our concern with social perception and norm violations. She suggests these experiences are universal and are often more reflective of human social sensitivity than actual personal failure. Her take on cringe suggests that these moments are more psychologically revealing than harmful, encouraging readers to reframe cringe experiences with more self-compassion.
What happens when avoiding embarrassment becomes more important than being real? What does that do to the way we connect, grow, and see ourselves?
Approval Over Authenticity
When reactions against cringe are constantly triggered in highly visible online spaces, people don’t just adjust their behavior, they start to suppress parts of themselves entirely. In relationships and in careers, people hesitate to show interest; they downplay their feelings; they hide behind a mask because it gives them an easy exit if things don’t land well. Everything becomes a performance, and authenticity starts to feel like a liability instead of a strength or virtue. Over time, this self-monitoring mirrors what we know about social anxiety, where individuals become hyper-aware of how they are perceived and adjust accordingly (Leary, 2001). The result is that many Gen Z-ers might come across as disengaged, when in reality they are often cautious to the point of silence (Reitmeier, 2025).
This is a problem because the things people are avoiding are the exact things that lead to growth. You don’t build confidence without putting yourself out there; you don’t get noticed without showing effort; and you don’t improve without being willing to experience discomfort.
What worries me most as a budding mental health clinician is what this does to development over time. From a developmental perspective, adolescence and emerging adulthood are periods in which belongingness and identity formation are especially salient. During these stages, peer evaluation becomes particularly influential, and sensitivity to social acceptance or rejection is heightened, making concerns about being perceived as “awkward” or “uncool” more psychologically impactful.
Growing up is supposed to involve trial and error, figuring out who you are, making mistakes, and learning from them. But if every misstep feels like it could be publicly judged, it makes sense why Gen Z-ers would stop taking risks altogether. Instead of exploring, people start self-monitoring everything (Hassoun et al., 2023). Instead of experimenting, they play it safe. That kind of constant self-awareness can easily turn into stress and anxiety. It can make failure feel bigger than it is, and it can stop people from even trying in the first place. Not because they lack ability, but because the social cost feels too high. At some point, it’s worth asking whether the fear of being cringe is doing more harm than good.
The irony is hard to ignore. The things most likely to get labeled as cringe, being excited about something, caring deeply, expressing yourself openly, are the same things that actually make life meaningful. They’re how people connect and grow. Maybe the goal isn’t to avoid cringe entirely. Maybe it’s to get more comfortable with the discomfort. Maybe the better question isn’t “is this cringe”? Maybe it’s “is this authentic”? These dynamics are especially important during adolescence and emerging adulthood, when identity exploration and belonging often require experimentation, visibility, and at times, transgressing social norms. Awkwardness and missteps are not deviations from growth, but part of the process through which individuals learn who they are and how they fit within social worlds. When cringe becomes the dominant concern, it reframes necessary developmental experiences as failures to avoid, rather than steps in identity formation. Reclaiming space for authenticity is not about eliminating discomfort, but about recognizing that discomfort is often inseparable from genuine growth and connection.
Self-Reflection
- When was the last time you held back from expressing something genuine because you were worried it might come across as “cringe”? What might have happened if you hadn’t?
- In what ways do you notice yourself using humor, irony, or detachment to protect yourself socially? Does it help or limit your ability to connect with others?
- How often do you think about how you’re being perceived before you act or speak? How does that awareness shape your decisions?
- What parts of your personality or interests do you downplay in social spaces, and why?
- What would it look like for you to prioritize authenticity over approval in your daily life?
