Should We Be The Renegades?

We’re navigating from sandcastles to treadmills in pursuit of finding a home amongst the shifting labyrinths of identity.

Having been brought up on playgrounds and asphalt courts, Millennials make their way through the smoke and mirrors of this everyday avatar-filled virtual reality. We evolve and adapt to survive. But in the process, did we betray who and how we’re supposed to be?

But in a blink of an eye - yesterday I was sixteen. Or nineteen. Or twenty-two-something. A good decade ago, actually.

But in my mind — it’s a short flashback away.

Yet all those memories — high school lockers and puppy love, professional dreams, and university entrance exams, moving anxieties and exhausting internships… They’re oceans away.

Dare I sound like an old hag, but it is, in fact, lifetimes away.

The world was very different — authenticity wasn’t a hashtag, emotions weren’t filtered and criticism wasn’t dished out on the social feed, but rather carefully rolled up in layers of cotton.

The world we grew up in fostered another breed of you and me.

So, are we the misfits now, clinging to our ultimately useless mp4 devices? Did we suddenly find ourselves left in the margins of the fourth industrial revolution? Should we shed the 90’s baby identity and instead — reinvent it?

Echoes of the lives we lived might whisper, but tomorrow is the product of our today. Should we be the renegades?

From suits and shoe polish — to flip-flops and freedom

“My business trip will last two weeks and I’ll bring treats for you and your Mum,” — dad used to say before heading to the airport.

Even on his way there, he wore a black suit and well-polished Loake shoes. His immaculately tidied notes and documents lay in a leather binder, sections separated with notes and different bookmarks.

I could smell Dad’s cologne as he rushed by grabbing his coat and landing a kiss on my cheek. I always thought — how elegant, well put together, and professional he looked.

I gazed at him — and wished to grow up to be someone just like that.

Fast forward to 2023 and here we are — suits are seen as an attribute of corporate slavery, and employees refuse to travel more than a certain percentage of time on the job. Four-day weeks and preferably hybrid or — even better — fully remote work positions.

I look at Gen Z and a sense of jealousy washes over me — you’re happy waltzing into the office with your flip-flops and Chicago Bulls T-shirt. For you — this is comfort, freedom, and rebellion against the system. For you — this is not only possible, it’s also normal.

For me — it’s something I naturally reject. Because looking like I’m going to the supermarket (not even!..) whilst commuting to work was not how I was raised. Looking put together was an ingrained notion: I am put together — mentally, and professionally.

It’s a statement of my work ethic.

And it’s a statement of respect towards my profession and the workplace.

These days I dress down to blend in — being a Millennial means balancing between almost retired Boomers, as well as managers of our parents’ age; but also seeing eye to eye with the youngsters speeding towards the heights of their careers (whoah there, when I was twenty-something, I had humble expectations and aspirations, Gen Z does sure know how to kick the ball!).

Basic shirts and blazers, good court shoes for normal days — sneakers and something more casual for Fridays.

My sense of fashion these days is equivalent to a proper punch in the face, but who said adaptation was easy? I suppose it’s easier to digest when served with a good dose of healthy work-life balance and Gen-Z-driven well-being and mental days off as dishes on the side.

Am I abandoning my true self just because I’m adapting to thrive? We shall never know. But maybe instead of keeping our paws on the old dress codes, the true Millenial armor is in fact the flexibility to adapt. And whilst on it, still holding onto the core values of professionalism and respect - because we genuinely believe: it transcends any fashion trend.

Reinventing relationships

Balancing life — work, family, social obligations — is a work of art. We’re incredible chameleons and mimicry is in our blood, so we blend in wherever we go.

We’re liked, successful even.

But we’re rarely good at maintaining it across the board — this overflowing life and constant connectivity drain our energies.

We love technology and chances are we already know the intricacies of that cool new device even before it’s released to the market.

Ironically, we loathe it as well.

Hyperconnectivity makes sure everyone is in our pocket at any given time, every second of the day — and it’s tiring. It’s exhausting. We miss real-world experiences and face-to-face interactions.

Ice skating discos and Sunday afternoon brunches.

Chit chats whilst sipping cacao, slowly walking through the boulevard in the city centre.

Cosy evenings playing table games and making poor-taste jokes about our friends, family or people we all once knew.

I miss Letternet and Postcrossing — they were my obsessions when trying to know the world. Yet I still scroll your TikTok feed and will check out that new Reel you posted. I might even join a Discord VC and we might enjoy hours swearing at the Luna bot, because, of course, the music is not working again.

Yet we will not talk about anything that matters.

We will feel empty and tired of the social media overload. A step or two back — we might even ghost you for a week. Or a year. Let’s talk when someone gets married, or someone dies — these are the best times to remember true (old) friends.

I would love it if someone sent me a letter. A real letter. Written on thick, porous paper that I could breathe in. Use a fountain pen, if possible. Wouldn’t that be a great alternative? I can easily imagine myself explaining to my friends and acquaintances:

Dear You,

I hereby inform thy, my dear friend, that this whole social media and over-connectivity thing has exhausted my vital juices.

Henceforth, any future communications should be initiated through the usage of good old traditional mail.

I like my letters scribbled in fountain pens, but should you have any difficulties with the nib or if you feel shy about your calligraphy skills, a typewriter option shall be accepted.

I appreciate your understanding and willingness to cooperate.

I shall be looking forward to our next communication in about…two weeks?

With love,

Yours truly

I might have been just a little over the top. But you get my drift. I wouldn’t mind swapping my WhatsApp or Discord DM’s to an occasional letter.

Wasn’t it Sundays — the days when people would dedicate several hours replying to letters received throughout the week?.. Sounds perfectly fine to me: a healthy way to step back from the overload, yet still maintain good fulfilling relationships.

And I’m sure: we would all be more mindful about the stories we share and the tone we use — the communication itself would be more meaningful and we would make the effort to create a better, more valuable connection.

A discovery of self — longings of a soul

Growing up in the sandbox, riding a bicycle and hiking. Classical education. Value of respect. Ingrained strong work ethic. Traditional relationships and communication forms.

Turning into an adult to find a cyborg childhood for younger generations, Udemy and YouTube instead of universities. Shattered standards and working/living norms, freedom instead of respect or humility. Gigs and freelancing as opposed to a corporate job. Tinder and IKEA relationships are where people dump one another when something takes an unexpected turn.

What is our identity? Are we really the lost generation or are we just the generation that hasn’t found itself yet? We navigate between the two worlds — one barely holding on, another coming with a bang and crushing everything in its way. We’re relatively successful — surviving, that is.

And we balance between the two.

But there’s a void within. We miss honest conversations and a sense of community and belonging. Sure, we’re on twenty different Discord servers and there are plenty of online groups on Facebook and Reddit. But can it fill in the gaps?

We might talk into the void and the void might just talk back. But you step outside, your headphones on, music lulling the busy mind as you walk your steps (there’s that shiny rare Pokemon somewhere half a mile down the road!..) — and it’s empty. You’re all alone…

If you slip on the icy pavement and crack a bone, is there anyone to call, apart from the obvious - ambulance? Because I doubt this lovely Reddit friend you sometimes talk to will give two pennies about your broken leg.

You’re on your own, my friend.

And so we dive into soul-searching — after all, we sometimes like to consider ourselves pseudo-intellectuals. A variety of topics live in our minds rent-free and we know more things that we would like to focus on. Or care about.

Is it the lack of attention, or do we lack the capacity to actually focus on one thing at a time?

Perhaps we simply hope to fill in the void whilst flipping philosophical pages, diving into a variety of religions and spiritual practices. The hope of meaning and purpose is still very much alive.

And maybe in that, we are all part of something greater than us. Maybe in this longing, in this soul-searching and sponge-like lifestyle, we create a sort of a cult.

Maybe Medium is a cult. Maybe Millennial Muse is a cult, where we shed our skin and bear our souls — trying to understand our inner thoughts and hidden selves better, but also shouting into the void. Because it might just shout back.

Or there might be an echo, we might just resonate with someone on the other side of the void or within it…

And here it is — a sense of community and belonging. Perhaps we are all lost together in this modern age that makes us feel like misfits. Yet collectively we’re navigating through the maze. Though the labyrinth offers no single exit, the exploration itself can be enriching and enjoyable.

Perhaps this maze does not even hold a map, but within its twists and turns, we might just find the true North to ourselves.

Embracing the treadmill of tomorrow

In this fast-paced wheel of a world, we’re the hamster — we don’t have time to stop and observe how far it’s been.

We don’t necessarily even know where’s this rush going to take us. Yet we continue running — bills won’t pay for themselves, life’s short, and — who knew? — we’re already behind with everything.

I’m over thirty, and as our generational tropes would have it, still very much living my twenty-something life: rushing through those big fat career aspirations whilst shoving aside the illusion of a settled life, a family, a home… Kids? Not anytime soon.

Whilst we run, we adjust the pace to the external forces inflicted upon the wheel. Heck, we might even jump the wheel and hop onto the treadmill instead — or balance in between.

Technology, innovations at work, the relationships of tomorrow — they don’t sit still, instead they flash by. And it’s ironic. Because even though the wheel might be outdated, it’s what we know — it’s how we learned how to run.

But the treadmill is the future — we need to learn its fancy buttons, elaborate functions, and gobsmackingly uncomfortable and invasive integrations.

Hence, we adapt.

I’m not saying Millennials need to abandon their practices and beliefs. I’m not saying we need to reject conventional behaviors. But to become more successful, we need to set ourselves free of constraints imposed by the environments we grew up in.

Shedding some of the beliefs and abandoning the practices that no longer serve us might just be a healthy exercise.

Why don’t we reinvent ourselves? Why don’t we be the renegades?..

My scribbles dive into a variety of topics. The thread of thought can be unpredictable — inspired by places, people, experiences, or the occasional earworm on the playlist…

I often weave my cloth of writing unsure where the threads will lead — or if the final tapestry will hold.

Yet whether I scribble fantasy or horror, highly opinionated or research-driven pieces, I hope it leaves you with something to ponder: makes you feel better (or worse?..), strikes an inner monologue (hopefully, voiced out in the comments!) or simply gives you something to chew on, inspiring to keep the creative ball rolling.

Thank you for reading!