Shrill's Annie Shouldn't Be 'Sorry' For Simply Existing — And Neither Should You

One of the earliest scenes in Hulu's captivating new series Shrill finds our heroine Annie Easton (Aidy Bryant) watching a plus-sized woman confidently strut out ahead of her into the street as traffic seems to yield only to her.


Annie, having been after the woman ever since her assertive sway and bold style choices caught her eye, moves timidly into the street, apologizing to the cars as if her try to cross the road was somehow an affront to them. She mentioned she was sorry for something as pedestrian as walking across the street. For a moment, I was incredulous. However then I realized I do the exact same thing.


It was then I saw myself in Annie, as I flashed back to all of the times I had mentioned "sorry" myself — endlessly, needlessly apologizing for things that were neither things I may control nor things anyone should ever conceivably be made to apologize for. Whenever I didn't listen to what a friend expressed in a meeting, I mentioned, "Sorry, although can you repeat that?" Also several times to count. Whenever I didn't receive payment for a freelance job, my first instinct was to apologize before asking for the mistake to be corrected — as if asking for the cash I deserved for completing work indicated an apology.


I'm not sure where my constant need to apologize came from, nevertheless I understand Annie's. Although during the length of the show's first six episodes (the starting of what I hope is far more to come) Annie accomplishes something I haven't however been able to: changing the way she reacts to her situation rather than falling into a slump. By the end of Shrill, Annie has become a much more powerful person, and all she had to do was stop saying sorry and accepting much less for herself.


It isn't routinely that simple, although it's needed. What in the event you can stop apologizing for taking up space and transform your life tenfold? Is it really that easy? Once Annie helps in avoiding making excuses for others' behavior and realizes she has a right to be present, heard, and appreciated, it definitely looks that way.


Annie is constantly assaulted by a global that wants to control her body in one way or another. It's as if she is, as a larger woman, collectively owned by the public as an alternative opposed to able to live her life the way she wants to. Her apologetic nature is a learned behavior that has come about immediately after years of dealing with this sort of treatment, day in and day out.


While visiting a coffee shop, Annie is accosted by a chirpy personalized trainer who insists on allocating her services. Annie, who spends enough time being lambasted (in admittedly underhanded ways) by her own mother about her weight, declines awkwardly, although the trainer keeps it up and continues to come on strong. "You would be so pretty," this stranger gushes to Annie, implying that she's somehow devoid of worth or aesthetics as she is. Annie laughs it off, nevertheless is visibly uncomfortable.


Not long soon after that, she meets the woman again, who excitedly runs out and flags Annie down, asking why she hasn't called to establish an appointment. As soon as Annie declines once more and the woman returns to the café she came out of, Annie murmurs "fuck you," under her breath. It's clear she feels as though she must immediately take it back — because while she doesn't, she's verbally assaulted and called a "fat bitch." It's hard to learn to assert yourself once something as simple as standing up for yourself can result in hateful language. So we apologize  — for our thoughts, our advice, and taking up space. For our feelings and self-worth. Because it's easier than the pain that comes with owning who we are once others wish to push us down.


Luckily, Annie grows tremendously immediately after this encounter. She opts to attend a body-positive pool party hoping to promote aesthetics at all sizes. However there's a "mandatory" work event that day focused on getting fit. Annie goes to the pool party, has a blast, and sheds her day clothes to reveal her swimsuit bod, living it up with the other girls there. She ends up arriving late to the work event because she was attending the party (part of her assignment to start with) and her editor berates her, implying that she's lazy and that she doesn't take her work seriously — at least, in part because she's overweight.


What does Annie do? She apologizes, and gives in. Slowly nevertheless surely, although, Annie starts to change — in tiny ways, at first.


She makes gradual alterations to the way she approaches situations. As a substitute opposed to meekly accepting a "no" from her editor once she asks to submit a project, she interrupts him in the middle of a non-work-related conversation to assert herself with a pitch, no apology needed. She also takes it upon herself to track down a troll who won't stop leaving hateful comments on her articles.


Although perhaps her greatest moment of triumph is as soon as her ex-boyfriend (Friend with advantages? Fuckboy?) Ryan comes crawling back to her, telling her how much he misses her right after totally disrespecting her. She doesn't need him, she's determined, and leaves him on the street. I have been in relationships where you give and give and get nothing in return however agitation. And to be able to see Annie taking steps to change this as a substitute opposed to making apologies for herself or someone else was liberating.


Over the course of the season, Shrill manages to drive residence an essential sentiment: No one has to be sorry for being themselves. So you could absolutely change this in the event you could work up the courage to try.


You can't change your jerk of an editor. You can't magically transform a terrible boyfriend into a model beau. However you can change the way you react to those situations, which Annie does start to do. I hope that once we visualize Annie again, she's learning to flourish with this maxim in mind, and that she finally learns to embrace a "sorry"-less world, one where she's only apologetic once it's warranted.


I also hope she's never sorry about consuming food tasty, home-cooked spaghetti in the middle of her kitchen after hooking up with a seriously hot guy. Because I wouldn't be, either.