Welcome to Drew Afualo’s World of Women

Drew Afualo’s message is loud, just the way she likes it. But the TikTok star, podcast host and author is quiet as she slides into the booth next to me. I’m meeting her for breakfast at Zaytinya, a sun-drenched mediterranean spot inside the Ritz in New York City. Afualo looks refreshed even though she’s coming off a late night previewing the 2024 Met Gala exhibition, an invitation-only event for creators on Gala-eve. She arrives to breakfast in neutral, minimal makeup, a departure from the movie-star inspired glam she posted on Instagram just 12 hours ago.

“I don’t gatekeep — my cousin Adam is the best hair and makeup artist, so he’ll be doing my looks forever,” she says.

You can tell right away that family is at the center of Afualo’s life, as is her self-professed, and wildly popular crusade to abolish “terrible men” on the internet. “I’m one of three kids, and I’m in the middle,” she says. When I tell her she isn’t living up to the middle-child stereotype of introversion, she cracks a smile that transforms into her signature laugh.

The server asks if he can get us anything to drink, and Afualo orders an oat milk cappuccino with “sugar on the side, please.” We sip sparkling water and tuck our legs behind us, like we’re about to unpack a juicy story, sleepover-party style. In a way, we are. Right away, I tell her, we have to start from the tippy-top.

Afualo relaxes back against the booth, brushing a strand of caramel-highlighted hair out of her face, revealing a gold pendant against a high-neck Skims bodysuit. “OK, I’m ready.”

“My parents had me really young, my mom had me at like, 20,” says Afualo, who turned 28 this year. She was born in Orange County, California — where she still lives — and credits her ambition and love of sports to her parents and her Samoan heritage. “My dad had a run with the Arizona cardinals” says Afualo, who describes Samoan culture as “extremely matriarchal.” (Her mother’s job as a public relations executive is testament to that.)

“My mom was kind of single-mom in a lot of ways after my dad got drafted. He sent money home whenever he could, and my mom had three jobs and got her degrees — yes, plural — at the same time,” she says. “After football, my dad never had too big of an ego to do any job. He was a mover, a bouncer, a personal trainer, an IT guy.”

Afualo started working at the NFL after college, but was fired a few weeks before the COVID-19 shutdowns began. “It ended up being a blessing in disguise,” she says.

At the time, she was living at her boyfriend’s parents house in Southern California, from which she launched her TikTok account, which featured videos about her days, her boyfriend, and one particularly viral clip about red flags — e.g., an obsession with Tom Brady and “anything related to Joe Rogan.”

Within six months, she’d gained a million followers. She’s since launched a podcast, The Comment Section, been written about in The New York Times, and has now released a book, Loud: Accept Nothing Less Than the Life You Deserve.

She takes a sip of her cappuccino, leaving a mauve colored kiss on the rim that looks like an emoji.

“There’s this saying that’s like, not all men, but somehow always a man.”

These days, between filming original content for TikTok and recording a weekly podcast — Chappell Roan was a recent guest — she’s promoting her book. “My shtick is hard to swallow for some people,” Afualo confesses after ordering a bowl of oatmeal with sliced bananas. She refers to her de facto tagline — “men are the worst” — throughout her videos, and the book carries a similar sentiment, with chapter titles like “I’d Rather Die Alone” and “It’s Okay To Be Mean.”

In Loud, readers get to know Afualo on a whole new level. She writes about her Samoan heritage, how it’s affected her career path, and how she’s turned “Pick Me” behavior on its head. The book, accurately described as “part manual, part memoir, part manifesto,” is like watching a feel-good movie in which you’re the main character.

You may wonder, How does this book about bad men jive with the men in her life? Like her father and brother, with whom she’s very close, and her boyfriend of seven years?

“I wouldn’t say I’m anti-man. I’m jut anti-terrible man,” she says. “Why are we so afraid to say something like, ‘Yeah, they’re all awful’? They don’t care about saying sh*t about us [as women]. I don’t believe that just because I identify as a woman I have to tip-toe around their feelings when they don’t give a f*ck about mine.”

She continues, “Women are constantly prioritizing men’s feelings and worried about what they think. Are men ever worried about how we feel? Based on existential evidence, and the history of the world and time, I’m going to lean toward no.” I laugh, and Afualo cracks her million dollar smile, glossy lips stretching from ear to ear. “There’s this saying that’s like, not all men, but somehow always a man.”

Afualo takes a bite of oatmeal as I check the time. She has to go, lest she miss her flight back to Los Angeles.

“Writing this book was therapeutic,” she says before heading to meet her Uber driver. “I’m in actual therapy, too, so I’m getting hit on all sides when it comes to working on myself — and I hope this book helps women understand to never settle for less than they deserve.”