Dear GenZ,
You are not what older generations often say you are.
And if you’ve ever felt misunderstood, talked about instead of talked to, or quietly exhausted by a world that never really gives you a break, that makes sense. I’m not here to judge you or scold you for that. I’m here to make sure you know this:
You are not weak.
You are not lost.
And you are not failing at life.
You are standing at the edge of something unprecedented, living inside a level of noise no generation before you has ever had to navigate.
You are responding exactly how any human would when raised inside the scroll. Constant input. Constant comparison. A system that never turns off. Naming that isn’t an insult. It’s an observation. And it’s an invitation. One I’m offering because I care deeply about what happens to you.
I’m old enough to remember life before the scroll. When boredom was part of the landscape. When discomfort wasn’t immediately numbed. When loneliness meant calling a friend and hoping their dad didn’t answer. When boredom turned into making something, breaking something, or figuring something out. Life happened in between.
I’m also young enough to understand technology. To move easily inside social media. To see its power, its pull, and the way it quietly rewires how we live. I understand artificial intelligence. What it opens up. What it threatens to replace if we stop paying attention.
Living on both sides of this divide gives you a reference point. And when something essential goes missing, you can feel it.
Gen X remembers what it’s like to live inside life. To feel things all the way through. To let attention land somewhere long enough for meaning to form. And we’ve seen what happens when that gets interrupted.
Back then, we didn’t have language for it. We weren’t trying to be mindful or optimized or intentional. Life just happened where we were. Feelings moved. Boredom passed. Curiosity turned into creativity. Restlessness turned into momentum.
And that matters more than we realized.
Because when you live inside your own life, your nervous system knows what to do. Attention has somewhere to land. Emotions move instead of getting stuck. Your brain isn’t bracing for the next hit of information, outrage, or comparison. It gets to settle. To regulate. To build.
When that flow is constantly interrupted, something very real starts to dull.
Your sense of aliveness.
Your felt connection to your own life.
This is why I’m paying attention to you.
You are the first generation to grow up fully inside the noise. No before. No baseline. No reference point for what it feels like to live without constant input tugging at your attention. This is the only version of being alive you’ve ever known.
So hear this clearly, without drama or apology.
If the way you’re living now was actually enough, you wouldn’t feel that ache. If constant stimulation, constant connection, constant information was how humans were meant to live, you wouldn’t feel restless in the quiet. You wouldn’t feel empty after hours of scrolling. You wouldn’t hunger for depth or meaning. You wouldn’t sense that something important is waiting just beyond the noise.
That ache is not a flaw.
It’s proof.
Proof that there is another way to live. A way that doesn’t keep you hovering on the edges of your own life, half-present and half-distracted. A way that brings you back inside yourself, where your attention belongs to you, where your thoughts can finish forming, where your nervous system can settle long enough for something real to grow.
You matter. And you deserve to live your life fully alive.
I’m not asking you to reject technology or disappear from the world. I’m asking you to stop letting the scroll decide how close you are to your own life. To put the phone down long enough to remember what it feels like to be here. To interrupt the noise before it interrupts you.
Because the moment you do, something shifts.
You start to feel again.
Ideas show up.
Energy returns.
Life gets texture.
Not because you added something new, but because you stopped numbing what was already there.
You don’t need to search for meaning.
You need to make your way back to it.
And the ache you feel right now? That’s not something to fix.
It’s an invitation.
And accepting it is bigger than you realize.
You are a conscious generation. One that refuses to accept a life that looks good on paper but feels empty in practice. One that questions inherited systems instead of blindly obeying them. One that keeps circling back to wellness, to faith, to family, to meaning. To a life that actually feels worth living.
And here’s the part that makes this moment extraordinary.
You also hold the most advanced technology humanity has ever known.
Which means when you reclaim your attention, your aliveness, your ability to feel, think, and create, you won’t just heal yourselves. You’ll build differently. You’ll lead differently. You’ll shape the world in ways no generation before you could.
A generation awake enough to demand more from life, paired with technology powerful enough to reshape it, is not an accident.
It’s timing.
So no — the ache you feel isn’t weakness.
It isn’t confusion.
And it isn’t something to silence.
It’s the signal that living on the edges of life was never the point.
Hear me when I say this.
The next chapter of the world does not have to look like the current one.
It can be miraculous.
It can be harmonizing.
It can be full of magic.
If you’re brave enough to accept its invitation.
Much love,
Jaimie
