We're Just Kids with Wi-Fi

Do you ever feel like you know everything and nothing at the same time?

It’s the kind of question that shouldn’t just hit—it should echo. Because that’s the thing about us Gen Z. We grew up with the internet. There’s no excuse for ignorance, not when every piece of knowledge is a click away. But knowing everything? Well It doesn’t make anything easier.

Here’s the part that stings, knowing how the world works—its injustices, its beauty, its fragility—doesn’t mean we can fix it. And, honestly, that’s what hurts the most.

Some people might ask, Why do you feel the need to fix it? Or even, What makes you think you can? Well, Now imagine you’re handed a life-changing formula. Could you keep it to yourself? You’d want to shout it from the rooftops, wouldn’t you?

That’s us. We feel this overwhelming responsibility to do something. Because knowledge, as freeing as it is, weighs heavy. And when you carry it too long, it starts to feel like anxiety, paralysis, or worsea deep, unshakable sadness.

The Loneliest Generation

"They say we’re the most connected generation.

And you know what? They’re right. But no one mentions how lonely it feels.

Why you say, even in partying everyon is glued to their phones, laughing at memes they’re not sharing with each other. We’ve got apps to reach out to anyone in the world, but what good is that when we’re terrible at talking?

Not texting. Talking.

We’re good at posing, though.

Performers in a digital theater. Social media is both our lifeline and our trap. It’s where we show our best selves, but rarely our real selves. Even when we’re with people, the digital world is there, hovering like a shadow in every conversation.

We’ve even turned our pain into posts and hashtags.

Here’s something funny—or maybe tragic thing about us. We’re brilliant, authentic, and deeply depressed. We’re the generation that shattered the stigma around mental health.

Therapy? Normalized.

Trauma? Openly discussed.

Self-care? A lifestyle.

We’ve even turned our pain into posts, hashtags, and viral trends.

But here’s what they don’t tell you about depression and anxiety—it doesn’t leave. Some of us call it an old friend we hate but can’t shake off??

And yet, we put ourselves first. Our mental health routines, our skincare, our affirmations—they matter. For many of us, they make a real difference. But not for everyone. Because awareness doesn’t always lead to healing. Sometimes, the pressure to fix yourself is just as overwhelming as the thing you’re trying to fix.

Fluid Identities,( The Chao's of I identify as )

In some parts of the world, identity has become fluid gender, sexuality, even careers—nothing has to fit into a box anymore.

And that’s beautiful. It’s a rebellion against the rigid structures of the past, a bold step toward self-expression and individuality.

But let’s be honest: it’s also messy.

How do you navigate a world where you can identify as anything? It’s empowering, yes, but also overwhelming. It’s freedom without a map.

Take this someone saying, “I identify as a serviceman” or a cat, or something else entirely. For many, it’s a legitimate journey of self-discovery. For others, it feels like chaos—a stretching of boundaries that were once so defined, they practically shaped reality.

And in Ethiopia, and other more traditional societies, this concept feels even more alien. It’s not that people don’t face identity struggles it’s that identity is deeply tied to roles, expectations, and cultural norms. Gender is still largely defined by what you do, not what you feel. So the idea of declaring, “I identify as...” feels distant, even baffling.

For us Gen Z, this duality the beauty and burden of identity—is part of what makes existing now so complicated. We’re figuring it out as we go, embracing the uncertainty and contradictions. But this, too, adds to the weight of being Gen Z: the freedom to define ourselves, and the confusion that comes with not knowing how far that freedom should go.

Activism

"We want to save the world. Or at least, we think we do."

That’s our mantra. We care, deeply. About climate change, inequality, systemic oppression—you name it. But caring isn’t always enough. Sometimes, it feels like the world’s too broken, and we’re just kids with Wi-Fi.

We’ve proven to be the activist generation in many countries we've shaken the ground and changed the system with just one post, I mean what are we.

But we’re also cynical. We’ve seen how performative social media can be. How attention spans flicker and fade. We want to make a difference, but the weight of it all feels too big. And sometimes,

it’s easier to just...scroll

"Love isn’t romantic anymore. It’s survival."

I have seen it We’re all sorts of desperate to feel something that we are ready to settle for anything. Even if it hurts. isn't that sad and magical at the same time relationships are know days complicated. We’ve grown up in a world of ghosting, situationships, and dating apps. Even With the technology we have Intimacy is harder to find, harder to keep everytime. But beneath the mess, we still hope we yearn for something real, something that can last But beneath the mess, there’s hope.

We still yearn for something real. Something lasting. And that hope is what keeps us trying, even when it feels impossible.

The Final Hustle

You know, I’ve said it before and used the on many of my posts

"Let’s figure it out."

Here’s the truth about us Gen Z. We’re messy, scared, and maybe a little too online, okay well so much. But we’re also trying. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.

We’re overwhelmed by the world, but we haven’t given up on it.

Not yet.

And maybe that’s what makes us extraordinary—the hustle to know, to understand, to fix, to hope, and most importantly, to try. And this is just Miya's thought!

Inspired by euphoria