Let’s start with a disclaimer: I’m not a psychologist. I hold no degrees in sociology or human behaviour. This isn’t science, it’s just the rant of a regular dude. OK, maybe not so regular. I’m 53. Canadian. Middle-class. Straight. White. A father. A creative director. A poet, a fighter, and a relentless creative and observer of the human condition.
So yeah, I’m privileged. Probably in the top one percent globally when it comes to opportunity. I didn’t earn that; it was the default setting of where and when I was born. But that doesn’t mean my story, or yours, is without scars. Life marks us all. People mark us. Events leave a stain. Sometimes permanent. Sometimes faded.
What fascinates me is not just how we change, but when we change. A moment in your twenties might land differently than it would in your forties. A breakup at 25 might teach you rebellion. At 45, it might teach you grace. The same event, completely different meaning, all based on where you’re standing when it hits.
And the randomness of it all? Fucking wild.
Let’s talk resilience. Or the loss of it. I’ve helped raise six kids over my life and I’ve watched generations change. I was raised with little parental oversight. No cell phones, no tracking apps. Summers meant disappearing into the neighbourhood with a shitty Canadian Tire BMX and a head full of Evel Knievel dreams. If you wiped out, you bled. If you cried, someone probably called you a wuss and you got over it. Or you didn’t, and that was fine too. You got tough. Or you got tender. But either way, you figured it out on your own.
Compare that to now. Kids are raised under surveillance. Every move is documented, filtered, liked, or left unseen. There’s less room to fail, and way too much pressure to perform. We’ve created a world where young people are expected to be mentally bulletproof while also being more emotionally available than any generation before them. That’s a tall fucking order.
And don’t even get me started on personal image. The pressure to be hot, smart, funny, political, emotionally intelligent, and somehow also chill? Fuck that noise. Add in a global pandemic, financial instability, the climate crisis, AI replacing jobs, and the constant barrage of bad news, and it’s honestly amazing anyone under 30 even gets out of bed.
We boomers and Gen X types love to throw around the term “snowflake.” But I’ve seen this generation weather shitstorms we never had to face. They’re not fragile. They’re exhausted.
So, what do we do? As a society, globally, locally, emotionally, what the hell do we do?
I don’t have the answer. But I know what helps.
Empathy. That shit goes a long way. Listening, not just to respond, but to understand. Honouring people’s differences instead of mocking them. Making room for complexity instead of demanding clarity.
We are walking stories. Scribbled drafts. Rewrites of the generations before us. None of us are finished. None of us are faultless.
But maybe that’s the point.
Love hard. Forgive fast. Shut up and listen. Get curious. And for fuck’s sake, be kind.
We’ve only got one shot at this life, and most of us are just trying to make it make sense. So maybe offer someone grace instead of judgment.
And maybe offer yourself the same.
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