By now, the phrase “Hot Girl Summer” has made its way into the cultural lexicon as a rallying cry for confidence, freedom, and unapologetic self-love. But Emily Ratajkowski, the model-turned-author and outspoken feminist, is taking that idea a step further—redefining what empowerment looks like in her own life by reevaluating the role of men altogether.
In a recent interview with Elle UK, Ratajkowski offered a candid reflection on where men stand in her personal hierarchy—and it’s not where they used to be. “Not centering men is really wonderful,” she said, explaining how her life has changed since she chose to prioritize female friendships, queer community, and motherhood over traditional relationship dynamics.
While she made it clear that she still enjoys romantic connections with men, she emphasized that straight men have all but disappeared from her everyday, platonic life. “I just have zero straight men in my life, unless they’re a romantic interest,” she told the publication. “In the hierarchy of needs, that’s at the top of the pyramid, which is nice.” Beyond pleasure and fun, she added, men simply aren’t a part of her “core” community anymore.
It’s a powerful statement—not just because of who’s saying it, but because of the movement it mirrors. Ratajkowski’s evolving relationship with men reflects a broader cultural reckoning, one that’s challenging long-held norms about gender, relationships, and emotional labor.
Ratajkowski’s comments arrive at a moment when many women are reassessing what they want from relationships—not just romantic, but social and professional as well. Last summer saw the rise of the “boysober” trend, a loosely organized but widely resonant social media movement where women swore off dating men altogether, often for reasons tied to personal growth, peace of mind, or feminist principle.
Much like Dry January or going vegan for health reasons, going “boysober” isn’t necessarily about abstaining forever. For some, it’s a pause to gain clarity. For others, it’s a declaration of independence, a refusal to invest emotional energy in dynamics that often feel one-sided or emotionally draining.
Ratajkowski, now 34 and a mother to 3-year-old son Sylvester (“Sly”), says that removing straight men from her day-to-day life has created space for something far more nourishing: community. “The rest of my life is community with other women and queer people, and being a mom,” she said.
In that one sentence lies a subtle but seismic shift in values—away from centering external validation and romantic partnership, and toward cultivating relationships based on mutual support, empathy, and shared lived experience.
At the heart of Ratajkowski’s shift is a quietly radical idea: that women don’t owe their time, energy, or emotional labor to men, especially when those efforts aren’t reciprocated or respected. For decades—if not centuries—women have been taught to prioritize male attention and approval, often at the expense of their own mental health, career ambitions, and sense of self.
The reality is that many heterosexual dynamics place a disproportionate emotional burden on women. From being the de facto emotional caretakers in relationships to constantly adjusting behavior to avoid conflict or coddle egos, the strain can be exhausting. What happens when women opt out of that system entirely?
What Ratajkowski and others are modeling is the possibility of a different way—one that centers female joy, autonomy, and connection without requiring constant navigation of male fragility. This doesn’t mean men are universally harmful or unwelcome. It simply means that their place in a woman’s life is no longer automatic or assumed.
Ratajkowski is careful to clarify that she still likes men. This isn’t about a sweeping rejection of an entire gender, but rather a conscious decision to reserve male presence for specific contexts. “Men are good for pleasure and fun,” she notes. But the key word here is purpose—if a man doesn’t serve a meaningful function in her life, whether emotional, romantic, or sexual, he isn’t there.
This framework may sound transactional, but it’s no more so than how many men have traditionally treated women. What’s different—and powerful—is the honesty and intentionality behind it. Ratajkowski isn’t pretending to be “one of the boys,” nor is she seeking male friendship out of obligation or social conditioning. She’s choosing relationships that fill her cup, rather than drain it.
This kind of boundary-setting is still relatively rare in public discourse, especially from high-profile women. There’s often pressure on celebrities to appear relatable or maintain a certain image of likability—especially when it comes to how they talk about men. But Ratajkowski has increasingly carved out a space for herself that’s not about being palatable, but rather being real.
Emily Ratajkowski’s journey has been anything but linear. She first gained fame in the early 2010s, catapulted into the spotlight by her appearance in Robin Thicke’s controversial “Blurred Lines” video. From the start, her image was heavily sexualized, often without nuance or permission. But over the years, she’s worked to wrest back control of her narrative—first by becoming a successful model and businesswoman on her own terms, and later by embracing a more vocal, intellectual feminist identity.
Her 2021 book, My Body, is a thoughtful meditation on what it means to live in a body that has been commodified, sexualized, and scrutinized in the public eye. Through essays that blend memoir with cultural critique, Ratajkowski explores how power, beauty, and vulnerability intersect in the modeling and entertainment industries.
In that context, her recent comments about men take on even greater weight. They aren’t just about dating or friendship—they’re part of a larger project of reclamation. By choosing who has access to her, emotionally or otherwise, Ratajkowski is asserting her agency in a world that has tried, time and again, to reduce her to an object.
Another key part of Ratajkowski’s current lifestyle is her emphasis on community—not just any community, but one rooted in female and queer relationships. This is notable, as it reflects a growing movement away from nuclear family models and heteronormative friendship groups, and toward more expansive, inclusive social networks.
In many ways, queer and female-led communities have long been pioneers in redefining what support, intimacy, and chosen family can look like. From shared parenting circles to friend collectives that operate more like families than friend groups, these models offer alternatives to the traditional structures that often fail to serve women’s needs.
Ratajkowski’s embrace of this kind of community underscores how important it is to surround oneself with people who share values, understand lived experiences, and provide emotional safety. It’s not about exclusion; it’s about intentional inclusion.
There’s long been a stigma around single women, especially those in their 30s or older. They’re often seen as incomplete, unlucky, or even pitiable. But voices like Ratajkowski’s are helping to dismantle that narrative.
Being single isn’t a fallback option or a waiting room until the right man comes along. For many women today, it’s an intentional lifestyle—one filled with creativity, friendship, professional ambition, and yes, romance if and when it fits. Ratajkowski’s life as a single mother, author, and public thinker illustrates that womanhood doesn’t need to revolve around male partnership to be meaningful or complete.
In fact, for many women, singleness offers a kind of freedom that traditional partnerships can’t. The freedom to build your own schedule, raise your child your way, and invest in the relationships that truly matter.
Emily Ratajkowski is not the first woman to decenter men, and she won’t be the last. But her willingness to say it publicly, and to back it up with how she lives, offers a fresh lens through which we can examine our own choices and cultural values.
Are we living lives that reflect what we truly want—or ones that follow outdated scripts? Are we investing energy in people who lift us up, or those who leave us drained? Are we defining success and happiness for ourselves, or letting someone else define it for us?
These are the questions more and more women are asking—and answering—in real time. And in that collective reckoning, there’s power.
Emily Ratajkowski’s version of “Hot Girl Summer” may not involve chasing male attention or playing by society’s rules. Instead, it looks like something richer: community, autonomy, pleasure on your own terms, and a clear-eyed vision of what—and who—is worth your time.
