Reneé’s perspective on disappointment is telling, putting her aversion to being misunderstood into context. “Friends of mine, for a long time, were very worried that I don’t process things, but it’s actually that I’m so prepared for things to fail that I don’t mind when they do,” she says.

You see, her unwavering sense of self and determination isn’t a product of solely being a Capricorn, but rather, as she puts it, “a very strange tortured artist mentality.” She continues, “I think I’m very used to being disappointed so I’ve made it a point in my life to not be disappointed.” The validity of this thought process sincerely checks out, setting the bar low and being pleasantly surprised is clearly superior to having crushed hopes. When you can’t control anyone but yourself, it’s a seemingly logical idea to prepare yourself, in Reneé’s words, to be “fucked over or not impressive to someone.” 

The idea of her not being impressive is ironic. In fact, impressive is the exact word I would use to describe her—she made her Broadway debut in a leading role at 20 years old, for crying out loud. What’s interesting is how your deepest psychological evaluations of yourself can drive you, proving this concept when she admits, “that’s the crux of my insecurities, I feel very scared to be unimpressive.” 

Fear and love can be considered evolutionary emotions that guide you through your humanity, with contradictory intentions but aligned agendas. “My biggest fear is to be a failure. That’s the only thing that has ever driven me,” says Reneé. She continues to defy her insecurities, transcending her fear of failure into her talent of navigating difficult feelings and eloquently expressing them through her music, and further, becoming an idol in her own right. 

While she confesses her deep sensitivity, I see an incredibly emotionally intelligent young woman, standing in her truth, a truth readily available to the world. Her authenticity in our interview is nearly identical to her work where her true self is splayed out for her audience to see. 

“I’m emotionally sensitive. I think I just always get kicked around by people. Even if they don’t understand what they’re doing,” Reneé says, providing me with an understanding of the intention behind the song “Bruises”. The song featured on her EP’s Deluxe version, and its music video counterpart uses blood, knives, and violent imagery to make a literal connection to how words cut deep. Reneé, your theater roots are showing. 

“I’ve opened up a lot on the internet because I think that was the first place I opened up where I genuinely felt accepted,” with her loyal fanbase seeing her evolve in front of her eyes, Reneé reveals, “It’s become a very interesting and delicate relationship that I’m afraid I’m not evolving enough, all the time.” Again, proving that she’s overcompensating for her insecurities, seemingly in a way that is not exactly rooted in fear, but sure-footed in courage to face them.

Reneé Rapp’s raw, blunt nature draws obvious parallels to her character Leighton Murray, rich-bitch legacy student, in The Sex Lives of College Girls, created by Mindy Kaling. She admits that her own lived experience helps her play the role authentically, although she credits the environment to her and the overall show’s major success. “I don’t love a hierarchical situation and there are a lot of rules and weird power dynamics that are inherent to the business [of film and television] that I don’t like as a human being,” she says adding, “I like to create, do my own thing, [and] for everyone to feel we’re on the same playing field.” 

“I carry myself in a way that I feel comes across unapologetic,” she explains, “so I like when other people can also be unapologetic,” answering the question of how vetted pros, people Reneé may refer to as “daddy”, such as Kaling, Tina Fey, and Lorne Michaels have met their match in a young Reneé Rapp. She tells me that “daddy” is her term of endearment, a nod to those she admires, made possible by their loose take on a pecking order.

Unlike the version of Reneé the actress, whose roles lean into her edge, Reneé the musician is tender and soft in her craft. The experience of touring across North America and Europe was a unique experience for the 23-year-old, “It’s such a mind fuck because I was proud of myself but also really hardcore judged myself,” making mention again of her inner extremes, “I’ve never seen so much footage of [myself]. When I watch TV shows, like [The Sex Lives of College Girls], I’m like ‘that’s not me’. But [performing live] is me me.” 

In the zeitgeist of internet fame and influencers, we’ve seen a cycle of it girls, each holding down their respective territory. Online personalities offer a connection to whichever phase of life we are in, whether it’s a radical love-yourself era bursting with positivity or exposing our flaws to reject the notion of constant self-love. In comparison, Reneé Rapp is wholly herself, even in her contradictions, not gatekeeping any side from the public—asserting herself as TikTok’s ultimate baddie. Put plainly, Reneé Rapp hits different.

“I think success, for me, [is] always having the next thing done five steps ahead,” she confesses, still learning how to manage her fear of disappointment, even with her promising track record. If being able to hold two opposing truths is a marker of intelligence, Reneé is trucking through the messy journey to being a certified emotional genius.

Photographer: Katia Temkin