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A Partial Explanation of Zoomer Girl Derangement
I’ve written a few times about the sociopsychological pathologies afflicting the zoomers (for instance Tonic Masculinity, The Devouring Mother of the Digital Longhouse, and Pixel Valhalla), but my perspective is necessarily that of an outside observer, a Gen-Xer who recalls the comparatively wholesome Before Times before social media ate the offline world. Moreover, my focus has naturally been more on the predicament faced by young men.
In today’s guest essay,
shows us what it looks like from the inside, from the point of view of a zoomer girl who isn’t merely observing the broken sexual hellscape, but coming of age in it. It’s raw, haunting, self-aware, insightful, and a beautiful piece of prose. I think you’ll enjoy it. This essay is also available at zinnia’s new Substack, e-girl estorica, which I think you’ll want to subscribe to.
i.
How strange. It stained her skirt: Red shame.
How utterly unremarkable. No stark transformation.
But her mother, she spoke in a whisper.
Told her not to tell her father
Her skirt, smuggled into the laundry.
Illicit. Like the thing she’d become
A woman, she murmured to her dolls.
How strange, she thought:
She had whispered.
As if she’d committed a crime
ii.
Nubile legs peeked through her schoolgirl skirt.
Rose bud breasts and narrow hips:
Alluring.
Eyes trapped by
untouched flesh, kissed by the glow of youth,
Lilting laughter left her girlish pout.
Innocence: What a thrill.
A flash of skin: Ecstasy
iii.
How strange. It stained her skin: Strange gaze
Eyes poked at her bony limbs
Rippled her skin till her hair stood up
Illicit.
As if she’d committed a crime
