I kind of wish you could rename a generation. Like, what even is “Millennial” supposed to mean? It feels so off for us—those of us born around the turn of the millennium. Gen Y, sure, that’s fine, but I always thought it should’ve been Generation Why.
See what I did there?
It just fits. It's cool in a very cool kind of way, but also it just makes sense. We are a generation that asks why. Why is it this way? Why can't it be different? Why has no one changed this yet?
I’ll claim it. I’m Gen Y. Born in 1991, in all the best ways. That year has some great history behind it, but I guess every birth year does, right? So many things happening that shape your life before you even know how to spell your own name.
I remember thinking a lot about that during early 2020. I was pregnant then, expecting my son in June. And I just kept wondering what kind of world am I bringing this baby into? A sentiment that a lots of parents every generation share. There was so much uncertainty. So many things I wanted to protect him from. And it all felt so wildly different from my daughter’s birth, where at least 20 people met her on her first day earthside.
No exaggeration, my family literally stayed in an RV in the hospital parking lot. They didn’t want to overwhelm me but also wanted to be right there, ready to run and grab anything I needed. Including, yes, a much-needed Taco Bell run after almost a full day of labor.
She wasn’t the first grandchild, not in either family, but both sides are big and love an excuse to celebrate. Her birth felt like a party.
My son didn’t get any of that. It was just us. We had just moved to a new state. One that made more sense for a growing family trying to survive on one income. It was the right call, but we gave up proximity to our people. Then travel got restricted, everything changed, and suddenly we were alone. The fear was everywhere. The playgrounds had caution tape, the news was relentless, and people were dying.
It felt so heavy. And in that contrast, I kept thinking about how much had shifted.
But seriously, the word Millennial doesn’t age well. It conjures up this image, a caricature, and really out-of-date, out-of-touch, tech-obsessed kids who say “you just don’t get it” and talk about “vibes” while refusing to make eye contact. Like that’s still how we’re seen. It hasn’t grown with us. And yet… here we are, still being labeled like we’re all wearing ironic T-shirts and living in our parents’ basements.
So when I ask why I can’t want what I want or expect what I expect, suddenly I’m the entitled Millennial? No. What I want, what I expect, is to be respected. To be seen. To not be treated like a total idiot. Is that really so outrageous?
Generation Why. That’s who we are. We’ve been asking the questions no one wanted to ask. We are the new wave of thinkers. And now that we’re grown, we're looking around like 'How did this all go so wrong'? How did it get like this? And to the generations before us: what happened? What made you stop asking the hard stuff?
Still I believe most people are doing their best. Or I hope they are. I hold onto that. It makes the world easier to be in. I like to think that if someone meets me, they’ll give me the same benefit of the doubt I give them. That they won’t assume I’m being selfish or rude or trying to one-up them when I share a story. That I’m just… talking. Like people do. Like I’m doing now.
When I believe that, I worry less. I don’t spiral about how I sound, or whether I’m being too much. And it helps. Because yeah, maybe we’re all trying our best and maybe that looks different every day. That’s a belief I can hold onto even if someone showed me hard data to prove it wrong.
Why?
Because I can.
