The Over-glorification of “Rotting”

April 1, 2026

Writer: Story Sossen

Editor: Samantha Zemnick

There was a time when our feeds were saturated with “rise and grind.” 5 a.m. routines. Green juices. Color-coded Google Calendars. Productivity as personality. And then, almost overnight, the pendulum swung.

Now? We rot.

We rot in bed. We rot on the couch. We rot in oversized sweatshirts under dimmed lights with a comfort show humming in the background. Social media, once obsessed with hustle culture, has rebranded isolation as an aesthetic. “Canceling plans” is self-care. Ignoring texts is boundary-setting. Staying in is empowerment.

And to be clear: sometimes it is.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with choosing yourself. Life is exhausting. The University of Michigan feels like a pressure cooker of internships, organization applications, midterms, networking coffees, and the constant anxiety that everyone else is doing more than you. Of course, you need nights where you turn your phone to Do Not Disturb and let your brain reset. Of course, you deserve rest.

But somewhere between self-care and surrender, the line gets blurry.

When did opting out become the goal?

There’s a subtle shift happening online: instead of glorifying overworking, we’ve started glorifying withdrawal. TikToks romanticize not leaving your room for days, but at least you are “protecting your peace. Instagram captions disguise cancelling plans at the last-minute as “protecting your peace.” Meme pages joke about having zero social battery, like it’s a badge of honor.

It’s funny - until it isn’t.

Because, especially in college, experience is everything. This is the one window of life where proximity does the heavy lifting. Your best friends live three doors down. A random flyer can lead you to a club that changes your trajectory. A spontaneous “you guys want to go?” can become a core memory.

When rotting becomes a lifestyle instead of a reset, it quietly steals that. 

There’s a difference between choosing rest and rehearsing avoidance. Self-care asks, “What do I need right now?” Avoidance whispers, “What can I escape?” One replenishes you so you can re-enter the world. The other convinces you the world isn’t worth re-entering.

The tricky part? They can look identical from the outside. Same sweatpants. Same bed. Same takeout container on your nightstand.

The difference is in what happens next.

Does your night in help you show up more fully tomorrow? Or does it make canceling again feel easier?

We’ve normalized the idea that saying no is empowering. And it can be. But empowerment also exists in saying yes - yes to the awkward first meeting, yes to the party where you only know one person, yes to the late - night walk when you’re already cozy.

Growth rarely happens under your duvet.

The overglorification of rotting is understandable. We’re burnt out. We’re overstimulated. We’re tired of optimizing ourselves. But retreat shouldn’t be the only alternative to hustle. There is a middle ground that social media doesn’t aestheticize as well: balanced engagement - showing up imperfectly, resting intentionally, and leaving before you’re drained.

Going out without overextending. Resting without disappearing. Being alone without isolating.

College isn't meant to be lived entirely from your bed.  It’s loud, inconvenient, and sometimes uncomfortable– and that’s the point. The best stories rarely start with “I stayed home.”

So rot, sometimes. Light the candle. Rewatch your comfort show. Cancel if you truly need to.

But don’t let isolation become your personality. Don’t let fear disguise itself as peace. Don’t let a culture of opting out convince you that hiding is healing.

Your comfort zone is warm. Michigan winters are cold. But somewhere between the two is a life that’s actually happening, in the dorm lounges, on the Diag, at the random themed party you almost didn’t go to.

You can rest. Just don’t disappear.