Dare To Be Mid

I recently got out of a reading slump through a smutty fantasy series. I devoured each of the books, staying up late and reading until my eyes hurt, just like I used to as a teen. It was exhilarating. On TikTok one day, a creator asked for recommendations of books that we couldn’t put down. I named the series, and a few hours later the creator herself responded: “I thought those books were mid tbh.”

Good God. Could anything be worse?

Technically, yes, but lately it doesn’t feel that way. The term “mid” has taken over social media, and while it seems like it should mean “mediocre” or “average” — not truly bad or awful — it’s very clearly used to mean something more like “You should be embarrassed for liking this.” Mid implies you’re not trying hard enough — to enjoy good art, to have an interesting life, or to appreciate peak coolness in all aspects of life. It’s all the worst tenets of hustle culture, now applied to personal taste.

Dunkin is mid, according to friends and colleagues I consulted for this piece, and so is Fabletics. Glossier, Colleen Hoover, and merlot? Mid, mid, mid. What else? Almond milk, Olive Garden, kitten heels, burrata, How I Met Your Mother, and green bean casserole. One person said the first thing that came to mind when they thought of “mid” was a corndog.

Of course, taste is subjective. But I believe we all have a soft spot for something mid, even if we also understand we should feel embarrassed about it.

It’s all the worst tenets of hustle culture, now applied to personal taste.

There’s been a lot of chatter in recent years of how we’ve moved past the insidious girlboss era and “rise and grind” careerism when really, we’ve just moved the hustle off the clock. On TikTok, I can obsessively hone in on the level of coolness of things like a celebrity’s red carpet outfit or Halloween costume as well as types of movies, home decor aesthetics, or beauty trends. Being average no longer feels acceptable, even in my leisure time.

“Oh my goodness, it feels so good to have somebody advocating for releasing this idea,” clinical psychologist and author Carla Marie Manly, Ph.D., tells me over the phone. It’s time to let go of the self-judgment, she continued, “by asking ‘Am I going after the lifestyle that others may think is mid, but is the ideal for me?’” In other words: If you’re embarrassed about enjoying something, ask yourself — who is it embarrassing to?

I feel so much pressure to keep up with the latest prestige television show, even though most evenings I want to watch Top Chef re-runs. When choosing a restaurant, my mind often drifts to the safe, mediocre consistency of a fast-casual lunch chain — but I could never seriously suggest that as a dining option. These days, it’s as though it’s cool to keep “the grindset” at bay during the week, only for it to rise up and slap me in the face over the weekend.

“Everybody projects their own definition of perfection onto other people, but really we’re all striving for different things,” says licensed therapist Leeor Gal, LMFT. “And so something that I tell my clients is ‘Let’s put everybody away. What do you want?’”

I think about this advice. It’s not like I’m arguing against good taste. It’s great to have high standards, obviously, but is it necessary to have them all the time, for everything? Sometimes I want to challenge myself, and sometimes I just want to be comfy. There’s a security I envy in people who simply like what they like without feeling the need to justify it. It takes confidence to be mid! I tell myself this when I resist the temptation to be cool and just let a bowl of chips and a slutty little novel take over my weekend.

It’s like it’s cool to keep “the grindset” at bay during the week, only for it to rise up and slap me in the face over the weekend.

Anyway, we may well be in the midst of a midnaissance: Just look at the recent surge in popularity of Suits, a show that is mostly known for being Megan Markle’s big break, and is 100% certifiably mid. Or this TikTok of two friends enjoying all the glory that Chili’s has to offer. One of my friends said recently, “TBH, I think most things I love are mid.” When I asked her to elaborate, she said, “I don’t care. I like what I like and don’t give a sh*t if anyone else does.” Grab a corndog — the hustle ends now.