This is often how I characterize myself. It's my excuse for when I can't explain Zoom audio to my mother, when I'm unable to name one Drake song, or how I explain the unfortunate neglect I showed by not investing in bitcoin. My generational cohort was not born in the age of internet and cell phones like those who came after, nor were we able to avoid this transition during a pivotal developmental period like our predecessors. Learn it or get left behind, socially and educationally, which put me, a rural american teenager living below the poverty line in the early 2000's, at a bit of a disadvantage. From the age of 16 on, I would engage in a tense cycle of playing catch-up to tech, while simultaneously holding on to the pen-and-paper, snail mail, phone conversation lifestyle that I might forever romanticize.
Even starting a blog in 2020 points to my shortcomings as someone who is supposed to be a pro at all things media. I don't understand twitter, but I do have a Facebook and an Instagram. Vine, Tumbler and Tik Tok came and went too quickly, and Snapchat drains my battery super fast. Blogging feels slow, less suffocating. It really feeds the one part of being a Millennial that I am very good at: thinking that my thoughts and opinions are valid and interesting. Whether this is objectively true or not, here we are.
I'll be like Carrie Bradshaw but a size 6 with way fewer opportunities to wear stilettos. Instead of pondering sex and relationships, I'll ponder marriage and identity development in your 30's; and instead of getting paid to have my essays in the NYT, I'll make no money and still feel like I accomplished something--something else Millenials have gotten really good at.