Real Talk Vol. 63
Apparently, there’s a name for people like me.
Zillennials.
And honestly?
That makes perfect sense.
Because I grew up somewhere between two generations, and I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything.
My childhood was a little bit of everything.
Bike rides.
Playing tag.
Running around the backyard.
Trips to the park.
Weekends at Grandma’s house with my cousins.
We could spend hours outside entertaining ourselves, and somehow there was always something to do.
And our parents?
Half the time, they had no clue where we were.
There was no sharing locations or checking Life360.
We could be halfway across the neighborhood, and the only instruction was to be home before the streetlights came on.
Different times, I tell you.
But don’t get me wrong.
We had technology too.
I got my first cell phone when I was about eight or nine.
A pink Samsung flip phone.
My dad surprised me with it after summer camp, and, back then we had to pay attention to our minutes.
And if you knew about free calls after 7p.m., you knew.
Then there were the CDs.
The DVDs.
The bootleg movies.
And somebody always knew somebody who could burn a CD with all your favorite songs.
And MUSIC VIDEOS!
MTV and VH1 were major.
You didn’t just pull up your favorite music video whenever you wanted.
You watched the countdowns, waited for your favorite artist, and hoped you didn’t miss it.
We had a Wii with practically every accessory imaginable.
And as I got older, technology kept changing.
Desktop computers turned into laptops.
Then came iPods, iPads, and iPhones.
It felt like every few years, something new was showing up.
And we were growing up right alongside it.
That’s what I find so interesting about being a Zillennial.
We remember life before everything was available at our fingertips.
But we also got to experience the excitement of watching those things become part of everyday life.
We played outside until we were tired.
Then came inside to play video games.
We had family weekends, neighborhood adventures, and a growing collection of gadgets.
A little old school.
A little new school.
And somehow, both feel like home.
I don’t think one generation had it better than another.
Every generation has its own memories, trends, and little things that make childhood special.
But I do have a soft spot for ours.
Especially when I think about that pink flip phone.
Because apparently, I was booked and busy before I even knew what booked and busy meant.
–C
