It’s not about you (I’m lookin’ at you, Millennials)

I would like it to be known that I am often plagued with anxiety that due to the year I was born (1992, what up), I am considered a Millennial.

Because let’s be one hundred here– when thinking about generations, the thought or mention of Millennials most often strikes a chord of animosity. Basically, we’re good-for-nothing, everyone-gets-a-trophy, it’s-all-about-me-and-my-feelings cry babies.

Now, the Millennial generation is widely defined from 1982-2004, causing, in my humble opinion, quite a bit of inaccuracy and generalization among its members. By no means does everyone fit into the awful depiction of what it means to be a Millennial. A lot of my friends and colleagues are as hard working and selfless as they come.

BUT. Generally speaking, this generation has fostered people who are so into themselves, they cannot be bothered to be a functioning member of society– Oh, you didn’t get enough likes on that selfie? The world must hate you. Life is so unfair.

We are so concerned with what is wrong with our own lives, if people like our perfectly-staged Instagram post, how we feel about something because our feelings are the ONLY ones that matter, if someone hates our opinion because it MUST be right, if people don’t think the same way because they MUST be wrong, what’s wrong with that guy or girl who broke up with us because we can never be the problem…


Dear Millennials:

You do not get a trophy for merely participating.

Trophies and accolades are for winners. You didn’t put in the work? Sucks to suck, my friend. You want a participatory ribbon? Go back to elementary school– I’m sure you’ll get a lollipop too if you’re on your best behavior.

No one owes you a damn thing.

No one. Not your parents, not your friends, not the government, not a complete stranger on the street who you think owes you the world because for some reason you think you’re hot shit. ABSOLUTELY FREAKING NOT. You want something in life? Make it happen. Earn it. Of course there will be people in your life who will help you out, but never make the mistake of thinking they owe it to you– especially if you’re a shitty person.


You don’t like a decision that was made? You’re right. I did that because I hate you and I want your life to suck. NO. Decisions are made (usually, that is, if they’re made by sane and uncorrupt people, so let’s leave every politician out of this scenario) because they are for the greater good. Decisions are made with many factors taken into account– the world, and most people (unless you have the unique ability to piss everyone you know off) do not have personal vendettas against you. Get a grip.

Your boyfriend or girlfriend broke up with you?

There must be something wrong! He’s an asshole, she’s a slut, they don’t know what they’re missing. Let me just say that all of your failed relationships have one thing in common: you. MAYBE YOU’RE THE PSYCHO.


Do you realize how idiotic most of our generation sounds when they try to contribute to anything socially substantial? It’s embarrassing. Who the hell gave you a degree and said that you were fit to join society? That school should be stripped of all educational endeavors. If you are going to post on any social media platform– especially about politics– you better know WTH is up, okay? I don’t really care what your view are– that’s the beauty of America, folks– but you better be informed, do your research, and not just blindly follow someone because it’s trendy. Remember, if you’re following your friends, you’re most likely following a bunch of other uniformed, pompous millennials. Don’t do that.

Please look up from your phone.

Please stop saying your 20s are your “selfish years”, as if that makes it okay to be an asshole.

Please stop acting like your are God’s, or whatever creator you may believe in, gift to humanity, because I can assure you that you are not.

Just stop.

I can’t with any of you anymore.

How I feel about you all sometimes:

Alright, well that was a fun rant. I hope none of your egos are bruised too much. I’m sure you’ll survive, just whine like about it per usual– amirite?


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