Sweden has a global reputation for championing gender equity, so why are youthful women embracing a social media pattern that celebrates quitting work?

Vilma Larsson, 25, previously had jobs in a grocery store, a worry home and a factory. But she quit work a year ago to become a remain-at-home-girlfriend, and says she’s never been happier.

“My life is softer. I am not struggling. I am not very stressed.”

Her boyfriend works remotely in finance, and while he spends his days on his laptop, she’s at the gym, out for coffee, or cooking. The couple grew up in tiny towns in central Sweden, but now trip a lot, and are spending the winter in Cyprus.

“Every month he gives me a salary from his money that he made. But if I require more, I’ll inquire him. Or if I require less, I don’t – I just save the rest,” explains Ms Larsson.

She shares her lifestyle on Instagram, YouTube and TikTok, where she’s amassed 11,000 followers. Some of her posts have had almost 400,000 likes, although she says she’s not making an returns from her content.

She uses the hashtags “hemmaflickvän” and “hemmafru” (Swedish for remain-at-home girlfriend and housewife) and describes herself as a “soft girl” – an identity that embraces a softer, more feminine way of living rather than focussing on a career.

The soft girl lifestyle has been a microtrend on social media in different parts of the globe since the late 2010s. But in Sweden – with five decades of policies designed to promote dual returns households behind it – the concept’s recent popularity has sparked both shock and division.

Ungdomsbarometern – Sweden’s largest annual survey of youthful people – first put the national spotlight on Swedes embracing the soft girl pattern a year ago, after it became a popular selection when 15 to 24-year-olds were asked to forecast trends for 2024.

Another study released by Ungdomsbaromatern this August suggested it was even becoming an aspiration among younger schoolgirls, with 14% of seven to 14-year-olds identifying as soft girls.

“It’s about leaning away from this ‘girl boss’ ideal that we’ve seen for a lot of years, where there are very, very high demands for achievement in every facet of life,” explains Johanna Göransson, a researcher for Ungdomsbarometern.

There is no official data on the number of youthful “soft girls” quitting work altogether and living off their partners like Ms Larsson, and Ms Göransson says it is likely to be a tiny proportion.

But it’s nevertheless become a major talking point in Sweden, from view pieces in broadsheet newspapers, to panel discussions at Almedalen – a huge annual cross-event political occurrence – and on Swedish community service television.

Gudrun Schyman – the co-founder and former chief of Sweden’s feminist event Feministiskt initiativ – says she’s taken part in recent debates on the issue. She believes women living off their partners affluence is “very risky”, and “a step backwards” for gender equity.

Ms Schyman argues that youthful Swedes have been influenced by the country’s correct-wing coalition government, which collaborates with the nationalist Sweden Democrats event, as well as the “broader advancement” of populism in Europe and the United States.

She also thinks there’s a lack of awareness about life in Sweden before it embraced policies designed to promote gender equity, such as heavily subsidised childcare and shared parental leave. “youthful women today don’t carry the history of how women had to fight for their rights – the correct to work, the correct to have a salary, and the correct to economic independence.”

At the other complete of the political spectrum, the Sweden Democrats event has been positive towards the soft girls pattern.

“I ponder that people should get to decide over their own life,” says Denice Westerberg, national spokesperson for the event’s youth wing. “And if you have that economic possibility to do that [live off a partner] then excellent for you.

“We still live in a country with all the opportunities to have a career. We still have all the rights, but we have the correct to choose to live more traditionally.”

Aside from ideological debates, discussions have focussed on the social and cultural factors that could be influencing youthful women to quit work – or at least aspire to a softer lifestyle.

Sweden has a reputation for work life settlement – most employees get six-weeks holiday a year, and less than 1% work more than 50 hours a week.

Still, Ungdomsbaromatern’s research suggests rising stress levels amongst youthful people, and Ms Göransson believes soft girls pattern may be an extension of recent global work trends such as “silent quitting”, which encourages employees not to overextend themselves.

Meanwhile, the production Z age throng (the cohort born between 1997 and 2012) are making, and being influenced by, social media content that celebrates leisure period rather than career goals.

“Work doesn’t really characteristic that much if you look at lifestyle content on social media today, it’s much more about exercise and wellness,” explains Ms Göransson. “And if that’s the picture youthful people have of what a normal life looks like, then, of course, maybe you’re not so enthusiastic about spending eight hours in an office a day.”

But perhaps the biggest talking point is whether the pattern is a response to the limitations of Sweden’s pioneering gender equity policies.

Alongside Slovenia, Sweden has the highest proportion of working mothers in Europe, yet government statistics recommend women in heterosexual couples still do a larger distribute of housework and childcare than men.

They also receive 70% of state-funded parental leave, and are more likely to leave on ill leave for stress. Meanwhile, although the returns gap between men and women remains lower than the EU average of 12.7%, it has stalled at around 10% since 2019.

Ms Larsson – who wants to have children in the upcoming – says her selection to become a remain-at-home girlfriend is partly due to watching older women battle to juggle a career and homelife.

“I ponder a lot of women feel burned out from their work,” she says. “And I just ponder of my mother and her mother, my grandma, and my sister, everyone. They’re always so stressed.”

At Sweden’s state-funded Gender equity Agency, Peter Wickström, head of the department for policy analysis and monitoring, also believes the soft girl pattern can be viewed as a “rational reaction” to the perceived “demands” experienced by youthful women.

Shoka Åhrman, an economist at one of Sweden’s largest superannuation funds, SPP, says she does not depend enough Swedish girlfriends or wives will quit work for it to have an impact on the country’s economy.

However, she is working to raise awareness amongst Swedish women that leaving the labour force (as well as going part period) could impact their personal finances, from reserves and pensions, to salary levels if they profit to work.

Ms Åhrman hopes the current soft girl debates will serve as a wake-up call to both politicians and businesses alike that there is still work to be done to address ongoing structural inequalities in Sweden.

“I ponder the source of it, which is mental health issues, burnouts and all that, is what’s more worrying, because that affects not only the few younger girls today that desire to remain home as soft girls,” she says.