Vilma Larsson, 25, is one of the trend's most visible advocates. Formerly employed in various roles, including at a grocery store, a care home, and a factory, she chose to quit her job a year ago to become a stay-at-home girlfriend. She describes her current life as more peaceful and fulfilling, marked by leisure activities like cooking, exercising, and traveling. Her partner, who works remotely in finance, supports her financially. On platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube, Larsson shares glimpses of her lifestyle, using hashtags such as “hemmaflickvän” and “hemmafru” (Swedish for stay-at-home girlfriend and housewife). With 11,000 followers and posts garnering hundreds of thousands of likes, her online presence reflects the growing resonance of the “soft girl” identity, which prioritizes a gentler, more feminine existence over career ambitions.

The concept of the “soft girl” has been a global microtrend since the late 2010s, but its recent popularity in Sweden—a country known for policies that promote dual-income households—has caused both surprise and division. According to Ungdomsbarometern, a leading youth survey organization, the trend has particularly gained traction among women aged 15 to 24, with 14% of schoolgirls between 7 and 14 identifying with the soft girl ethos.

Critics, however, warn of the potential risks. Gudrun Schyman, co-founder of the feminist political party Feministiskt Initiativ, argues that the trend undermines hard-won gender equality. "Women living off their partner’s wealth is a step backward," she says, highlighting the lack of awareness among younger generations about the struggles that secured economic independence for women in Sweden. Supporters of the soft girl lifestyle, however, frame it as a personal choice. Denice Westerberg, spokesperson for the youth wing of the nationalist Sweden Democrats party, defends the trend, asserting, “If you have the economic possibility to do that [live off a partner], then good for you. People should decide their own lives.”