I have been repeatedly tumbling off the good girl pedestal the past 18 months. You might see tattoos, eroticism, and a sassy mouth and think I’ve never been a good girl, but you’d be wrong.
I was putting the feelings and needs of those closest to me above my own for years. Wearing my integrity like armor against criticism, and making integrity to others always more important than integrity to myself.
And then life organized a series of situations where I was forced to decide: will you disappoint, upset, possibly even hurt another person or will you betray yourself?
Situations where the answer felt messy and terrifying. Before, I would have betrayed my own heart, needs, desires without second thought because of loyalty, duty, honor, and sometimes… image. I stayed safe by being unequivocally GOOD when it came to the real stuff, the deep stuff.
To choose something selfish at someone else’s expense? I could never.
But then I did.
I dated someone I wasn’t supposed to.
I ruffled many feathers in my embodiment teacher training community.
I sold my successful clinic and walked away.
I broke up with the guy everyone thought I was insane to pass up.
I took a night off while leading a 150 person event because my nervous system was shot and I needed to cry in the bathtub.
I didn’t smile and play nice in business deals or remodel projects when I was being subtly bullied or taken advantage of.
I sent emails that read: “If I don’t hear back by end of day, my next steps are filing a complaint with the BBB, writing a google review, a FB post, and if needed I will hire a lawyer.” I meant it. (Amazing how fast that will result in a returned phone call). I sent emails that said, “you’re marking this up 400% based on what it would cost me to buy it online, please explain to me how you justify this price point?”.
At the last minute, I didn’t show up to the final intensive of a 3-year program I was in.
I told a client I wasn’t her mother (she didn’t take it well).
I said controversial things, shared political opinions during launches, and got angry in public more than once.
I wrote things to my email list you’re not supposed to admit.
Good girls don’t do these things.
I honestly felt like I was going to die during some of these moments. The feeling of being in danger was SO visceral and all-consuming. Our nervous system (and perhaps DNA) memory of exile and rejection is profound.
I didn’t know how to convince myself it was OKAY to upset people, to inconvenience them, even to hurt their feelings (never maliciously). It felt really bad. There were moments I felt sure I was bad.
“Smile. Be nice. Don’t make anyone uncomfortable. Be low-maintenance. Be grateful for what you get. Keep the peace.”
That’s what good girls do. That’s how you ensure love and belonging.
So much of my life was built around avoiding feeling bad about myself.
I didn’t want to feel like a burden. Didn’t want to be too much. Too needy, or too emotional, or too messy. I didn’t want my needs or desires to inconvenience or disappoint, let alone *hurt*, someone else.
So I hurt myself. I made what was true to my heart or my body less important.
And then it became clear that outdated protective strategy needed to end.
The “Good Girl” isn’t just an identity, it’s a nervous system pattern. It’s what you learned to be to stay safe, to be loved, to survive.
And it’s because of her that you don’t feel deeply seen or known.
She’ll keep you small. She’ll keep you resentful. She’ll keep you performing instead of belonging.
The Good Girl doesn’t attract real devotion (even though that’s what she wants), she attracts transactional love. This was the biggest wake-up call for me.
The friendships I thought were built on something real and deep that only worked if I played by a specific set of rules I never agreed to.
The men I dated who only showed up with love and affection if I was playing my part: make them feel desired, powerful, confident. If there was challenge, or mirroring of their lack of integrity, the “love” vanished.
My good girl programming matched me with shame-ridden men who didn’t love themselves or know how to disappoint someone else either.
The good girl attracts people who benefit from her having no needs and no big feelings.
She attracts relationships that are claustrophobic.
She doesn’t inspire the grounded, attuned masculine, because she’s too busy managing, pleasing, and shrinking to be truly felt.
She hides her truth to keep the peace, then wonders why she feels emotionally disconnected.
She asks for so little, then resents that she receives crumbs.
The good girl is not weak, but her power is buried beneath who she thought she had to be to be loved.
Real intimacy requires your wholeness.
There are people who do not like me right now. And for the good girl in me, it feels a little nauseating. She wants to keep the peace. But you know what I got as a result of upsetting some people?
The healthiest relationship I have ever had with myself. I trust myself more than I ever have and my inner voice has never been more supportive, loving and solid. I am making a living doing work that feels fun and fulfilling. I feel more at ease and supported in my friendships and current community than any other point in my life thus far, and I don’t have the 24/7 feeling that I am spread too thin, overcommitted, on the verge of burnout, and one curveball away from everything crumbling.
I don’t live in resentment and bitterness for giving more than I receive.
Worth my inner good girl feeling scared sometimes? Yes.
Do you have a good girl protector part too?
There are always layers of coming home to our true essence. I didn’t think I had good-girl programming in me until life brought me the advanced level tests these past couple years and I got to see how deep it ran.
And because I teach what I live, in my women’s program, Becoming the Muse, we dismantle the good girl programming—gently, lovingly, without shame.
We reclaim your voice, your no, your longing. We build your capacity to feel, to stay, to choose. And this time, if you’re staying, if you’re choosing in to something, it is not from fear or fantasy, but from a deep-rooted truth in your body.
This is what real feminine power feels like. And it’s wildly inspiring.
Love,
Caite
About Me
I’m Dr. Caite Gordon: intimacy, sex, and relationship coaching, Doctor of Chinese Medicine, and feminine embodiment teacher.
For more than a decade, I’ve guided women and couples through the landscapes of healing, intimacy, and eros. My work draws from eastern medicine, functional medicine, somatic healing, spirituality, and years spent sitting with thousands of people in life’s most vulnerable and sacred moments.
I’m fascinated by what allows us to become more fully ourselves: to unwind old survival strategies, trust our bodies, create nourishing relationships, and build lives infused with vitality, meaning, and pleasure.
This Substack is an extension of that exploration—a place for conversations about embodiment, intimacy, spirituality, women’s health, and the art of being human.
If these words resonate, I’m glad you’re here.
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