In the big wide world of the internet, there is no topic untouched. A trend on social media of “I have never had an original experience” is both a relief and a panic. I find myself leaning towards relief at knowing I have had the same experience no matter how specific or how broad it is among people from all over the world. But in times of turmoil, isolation, and social anxiety, I think many of us do not see ourselves reflected in the internet, specifically the current state of social media platforms.
Being on the bottom half of the millennial generation I was over “self care” culture aka schedule a meditation and have a salad. I am what my doctor calls a high functioning depressed person, which I assume means no one would know I had a perpetually low level of serotonin. I took pride in that until I didn’t. I wanted people to know that I didn’t wake up like this, I carefully crafted my days, my routines to make sure I was set up to be on when I needed to be. To keep me out of the dread soaked evenings. That’s when I went looking for people like me.
One of my most recent ‘unoriginal experiences’ was quitting my job, leaving my city, and moving back in with my parents for a much needed reset. I only told people on a need to know basis but it quickly became a conversion starter - “Good for you” was the response I got the most, believe it or not. People started opening up to me about their stories, their crises, all backgrounds, and all ages. I felt so silly for ever thinking “No one knows what this feels like” when people kept seeing themselves in my eyes. It was exactly what I needed.
How saymore came to be is here but the short version is I wanted a digital place where I could go and be curious. I wanted a space that looked like me but held nuance and room for me to ask questions. A space that lived in the gray and strayed from the mainstream. Honest storytelling. Genuine solutions. Questions with different answers.
If we have never had an original experience and we want to know more, I want saymore to be that online platform, that digital safe space. If we are all connected more than we could ever see on social media, I wanted saymore to be the platform people go to. And maybe, just maybe, if we all remember how alike we are, how human we are, then we can really make this place (gestures vaguely) a better place for everyone.
What’s an experience you’ve had that you felt like only happened to you? I think you’d be surprised…I encourage you to say more.
pictured: fresh twenties steph vs twenty-nine yr old entrepreneur steph
I've been saying for years that I cannot wait to be in my thirties. Now, having just entered the last year of my twenties, I find myself still eagerly anticipating this new decade. It's not that my twenties were bad—in fact, they were transformative. But I’m ready for what comes next. In this next decade, the opportunities feel endless… a healthy and committed love, the potential for a family of your own, and the career confidence gained through years of late nights in PowerPoint. Personally, I’m ready to move on to more peace, less struggle.
And that includes finding the courage to do more, experience more, and say more. (See what I did there?)
That’s what I hope for all of you who’ve come to the saymore community.
Embracing My Own Journey
As for me, I've never been one to experience life gently. A close friend once told me that I “make my life harder than it needs to be,” and I have to admit, they were right. But it's because I've always wanted to understand myself. I've put myself in many different situations to get to know myself better, whether that meant moving to new cities where no one knew me or exploring my sexuality and discovering that I'm queer.
The big moments like travel and career changes are significant, but it's the little moments in between that truly defined my twenties. They can be beautiful even in their despair. Here are a few core memories from my journey:
Drinking with my friends–the right people–at a bar, and laughing when a girl I had a crush on asked for my Snapchat. I thought, what is this, 2012? (Or maybe I ditched Snapchat too soon?)
The body dysmorphia that comes with womanhood…Is it my period? Is it my luteal phase? Or is it just me, and my belly has always been this soft...
Converting to menstrual cups over tampons even though you are absolutely screwed if you get stuck in a porta potty while needing to change that thing.
These experiences, both the best and the worst, are all part of the natural ebb and flow of life. They’ve taught me that beginnings and endings are a constant, no matter your age. Here are some lessons I've learned along the way that I believe are timeless and relevant whether you're in your twenties, thirties, or beyond.
Disillusionment with the World
It's normal to become disenchanted with how the world works. Realizing that systems often fail and that equality and justice are still aspirations rather than realities can be disheartening. But this awareness also empowers us to strive for better. A few years back, I remember my landlord keeping most of my security deposit for no good reason and feeling completely robbed. What was I to do - hire a lawyer?! That felt way out of my realm. Ultimately, I just had to cry a bit and cut my losses.
Heartbreak is Inevitable
Heartbreak, both platonic and romantic, often feels like the end of the world. The pain is real and intense, and there’s no set timeline for healing. It’s okay to take your time to move on and to feel deeply about the people in your life. Everyone heals on a different timeline. In my own personal heartbreak journey of lost friends and love, the book Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton made me feel far less alone in the grief.
Existential Dread is Normal
We all experience moments of existential dread. Whether it’s the Sunday scaries or a full-blown anxiety attack, these feelings are part of the human experience. A walk, a good night's rest, a post on saymore, and a chat with a friend can work wonders, even if just temporarily.
Changing Your Mind is Empowering
It’s powerful to change your mind, your job, your city, or even your perspective. Embrace the ability to evolve and make new choices. This is your life, and you have the agency to shape it. Find your favorite podcasts or books that empower you to try something new. I like the podcast, We Can Do Hard Things with Glennon Doyle.
You Can’t Do It All
It’s important to recognize your limits. The pressure to do everything can be overwhelming. Allow yourself to rest and reject the productivity culture that leaves you depleted. Do your best and let that be enough. You’ll have some wins, like leading that big meeting with execs. And some losses, like butchering one of the exec’s names and sweating through your blouse. Don’t worry, you’re not the first and you won’t be the last.
Final Reflections
As I prepare to enter my thirties, I realize that I’m still learning and growing. Each decade brings new challenges and opportunities for self-discovery. The beauty in that? We can always start over.
If you have any twenties fallacies or lessons to share, please let me know in the comments. This journey is something we all go through, and each story adds richness to the collective experience.
Take a look around, join our conversations, and let me know how you’re doing.
Here’s to embracing imperfections at any age and constantly learning life lessons. Cheers to the next chapter!
If you had told me at eighteen, when I first moved out of my parents’ house, that I’d be back home a decade later, I would have guffawed. That would’ve felt like hitting rock bottom. At twenty-eight, I imagined myself winding down with a glass of wine in my small (but charming) apartment, texting my latest crush — not living under the same roof I grew up in.
Besides the usual feelings of shame and failure that comes with moving back in, there are a lot of other dynamics at play. But don’t be too hard on yourself – nearly half of adults aged 18-29 live with their parents. Recent news has highlighted that millennials are the first generation to be worse off financially than our parents were at our age. With rent prices at an all-time high, homeownership increasingly out of reach, growing mountains of student debt, and rising inflation, who can realistically afford to live on their own?
My point is, don’t beat yourself up. But if you are living at home or considering it, I want to give you a heads-up – and share some advice on how to navigate it better than I did.
Pro: Saving $$$
The biggest perk is that you will save a ton of money – though it might come at the cost of your mental health. Financial reasons are the most common motivation for people to move back home, especially in today’s housing market. After I quit my job and decided to invest my savings into saymore, it just made sense. Saving $15k to $30k a year is no small feat.
Con: Lack of Your Own Space
Depending on how you grew up, prepare for living at home to completely change how you view your autonomy, especially if you’re used to having your own space. I have lived in various apartment complexes with all kinds of noise, but nothing compares to the irritation of hearing your parents’ constant footsteps (why are they always loitering?), their groans as they get in and out of the recliner, and the never-ending “what’s new?” questions day and night. You think I’m exaggerating, but just wait.
Pro: Family Time
Living away from my parents had its perks, but it also came with its downsides. During a crisis or a rut, my parents were always just a phone call away, but there’s no substitute for home cooked meals, open arms, and a quiet place to rest my head. Since I moved thousands of miles away at eighteen, I’ve missed out on a lot of time with them. Now, as they get older, I’m grateful for the time we spend together – time I wouldn’t have had otherwise. Knowing they won’t always be around makes these moments even more precious.
Con: Family Time
I don’t think we’re meant to be around our family 24/7 - but that’s just me. Boundaries start to blur, and before you know it, everything becomes a family activity. Every day, it feels like my parents ask me if I closed the garage. Yes, the garage is closed. Why are we still talking about it? Dinners often revolve around the most depressing news from their aging family and friends. And unsurprisingly, weaponized male incompetence is more apparent than ever, as retired women continue to do most of the cooking and cleaning while retired men still struggle to figure out which laundry setting to use.
Pro: Convenience & Comfort
Whether you’re still in your hometown, or your parents have become snowbirds in Florida or Arizona, there’s a certain convenience and comfort to being in a smaller city. Older folks love strip malls, Publix, and long walks. Life is simple here, and finding a food joint open later than 10 p.m. feels like a miracle. With limited traffic, freshly mowed lawns, and neighbors who wave at you across the street, suburban life has its perks.
Con: Same Town, Different You
The hardest part for me is being somewhere I have outgrown or I no longer belong. Suburbs and communities built for older generations can make it incredibly difficult to connect with old friends or make new ones. It’s also hard to stay motivated when you know living at home is only temporary. The experience can feel suffocating and isolating – young people need to be around their peers, not explaining the difference between YouTubeTV and cable to their parents.
The truth is, moving is one of the most stressful life events, and moving back in with your parents can feel even more so. But remember, this is only temporary. And also, keep in mind that you’ll probably never get this time back with the people who raised you. Whether you’re saving money or going through a tough time, heading home for a while is not something to be embarrassed about.
I don’t know yet how everything will work out for me, but I’m hoping Future Steph will look back with a laugh and think, “Hey, that wasn't so bad.” And just like that, my mom is calling me down to help with dinner – tonight’s menu is spaghetti and meatballs. Gotta run!
Feel free to share your own experiences or concerns about living with your parents on saymore. What was the thing you were most nervous about when moving back home? No wrong answers – vent away!
Welcome to the saymore blog! I'm Stephanie, the founder of saymore, this virtual mental wellness community. When launching saymore, I wanted to create a space where people can engage in nuanced, meaningful conversations and support one another.
Today, I want to talk about something super important—voting. With November steadily approaching, using our voices to make a difference by voting in the general election is crucial.
You might feel a bit disillusioned or overwhelmed by the current political climate. I get it–it’s a weird time. For many, the American flag might not symbolize the same ideals it once did. But between Millennials and Gen Z, we make up the largest percentage of eligible voters in this general election. Our generations care deeply about social issues and making a positive impact, but it can feel like our efforts are futile when faced with the vastness of the challenges we want to tackle.
Just last night, I was talking with my girlfriend and asked her which social cause she felt most passionate about. I listed a few examples: intersectional feminism, queer rights, gun control, healthcare for all, education. She couldn’t choose just one and we ended up passionately discussing each topic! We shared a laugh, realizing how difficult it is to focus on just one issue when so many are important. The vast access to information makes it nearly impossible to ignore these matters, many of which are literally about life and death.
Turns out that in most of my conversations with loved ones, there's a recurring theme of feeling swamped by the volume and variety of issues. Emotions are high; change feels like it takes forever. The gravity and sheer amount of information out there can be paralyzing. It’s easy to feel that as one person, your vote doesn’t matter. Or that maybe, opting out of voting is easier because you don’t feel knowledgeable or affected enough. But your vote does matter.
Voting is one of the most powerful tools we have to shape our future. Even when the system is frustrating, your vote is a way to stand up for what you believe in, to push for progress, and to hold those in power accountable. Every vote counts, and it’s okay if you don’t know much about politics. Let’s have conversations and help each other.
I’ve compiled a list of reasons why your vote in this general election matters, especially now:
Your Vote In the General Election Is Your Voice
We’ve lived through significant events like the Russian hack, the insurrection, and the Supreme Court overturning long-standing policies. These include major policy changes that infringe on marginalized communities’ basic rights and freedoms. Events like these show how much impact a single election can have. It’s scary, but it also means that your vote can be used for good.
Don't Let Apathy Win
Older generations often rely on young voter apathy to maintain the status quo. Prove them wrong! Today’s youth are the ones who will live with the consequences of today's decisions. Everyone’s active participation is essential for creating a future we want to live in. By showing up at the polls and voting in the general election, young people send a powerful message that we’re engaged, informed, and determined to shape a better world.
Progress Takes Time
Remember, progress isn’t always linear. Former President Obama (side note, I miss him) once said that progress can often feel like steps both forward and backward. That’s why we have to keep going. Every movement in history has faced setbacks, but history shows us that peoples’ persistence and resilience ultimately drive progress forward.
We’re Not Alone In The Fight
In my work to champion wellness, I meet so many dedicated people across industries —law, finance, social work, education, healthcare—who are working tirelessly to make the world a better place. Change is happening, even if it’s not always visible or looks turtle-slow. Every day, countless people are making differences big and small to work toward a fairer, more just society. By voting in the general election, you can contribute to a collective movement for positive change.
As a virtual wellness community, we at saymore believe in representation, freedom, equality, and justice. While no politician may perfectly align with all our ideals, not giving into ignorance and apathy is so important. Many heroes before us have fought for our right to vote, and we owe it to them and to each other to keep exercising that right. Vote for yourself, and if not, then vote for others who can’t.
Empowerment Through Community
One of saymore’s core values is creating a sense of community where we can discuss nuanced topics in a safe space. Voting is another way to empower ourselves and those around us. When we vote, we help ensure that our communities are represented and that our collective voice is heard. So, view saymore as another space to explore these issues together, ask questions, and share your experiences with a like-minded, diverse community. Knowledge is power.
Overcoming Feelings of Hopelessness
It’s easy to feel discouraged or even hopeless at times when the challenges ahead of us seem overwhelming. But remember, every major movement in history has faced similar feelings of despair. But through solidarity and persistence, people have still achieved remarkable changes. By voting, you signal that you still believe in the possibility of a better future. And that is such a beautiful and important thing to keep putting out into the world.
A Call to Action
So, I encourage you to please vote this November. Our voices matter. Share your thoughts, your feelings, and your motivations with us in the comments. Why are you voting, or why are you struggling with the decision? Let’s discuss and support each other through this. Use saymore’s virtual mental wellness community as a way to exchange ideas, ask the hard questions, and push for meaningful discussion.
And be sure to join any election threads to share your POV, ask questions, and/or learn more about the issues at stake this November and beyond.
Your experiences and perspectives matter, and by sharing them, we can continuously learn from one another and grow stronger as a virtual mental wellness community.
Thank you for being part of our community, and for contributing your valuable thoughts, experiences, and questions. Let’s make our voices heard.
Stephanie
About saymore
saymore is a virtual mental wellness community that helps people with shared curiosities, challenges, and goals find each other. Built on trust, saymore users can build and join supportive communities, discuss nuanced topics in safe spaces, and explore helpful products and services. For more information, visit saymoreco.com or @saymoreco on Instagram.
Like many Americans, I often grapple with feelings of hopelessness. The endless stream of content we consume on TikTok and Instagram in a single day provides way more stimulation than we were ever designed to process. Social media, which often shows us carefully curated supercuts of people's lives, can lead to a pervasive sense of FOMO or never-ending comparison. As we doom scroll into content oblivion, we might forget that our minds weren’t built for such overstimulation. How is it possible to stay hopeful when we’re constantly exposed to thousands of others’ highly-filtered lives from around the world?
We also know, based on numerous studies, that anxiety and depression are on the rise globally, especially among younger generations. These mental health struggles are often exacerbated by our culture of overwork, social isolation, and a lack of community. And yet, in the face of these very real challenges, I want to offer a different perspective: we are going to be okay.
To stay hopeful, the key is to look beyond the noise and focus on the quiet work being done by those who truly care about making the world better. The kindest people are not the loudest in the room—they are the ones who show up, time and again, in quiet, meaningful ways.
Know this: There are so many people who care.
In my work, I’ve had the privilege of meeting people who are dedicating their lives to making a difference. These individuals don’t often grab the spotlight, but their contributions are profound. People like Tracy Borreson, who is building authentic relationships to create community and support among entrepreneurs at TLB Coaching. Or Kerstin Recker, cofounder of PeliHealth, which provides support and resources for women with pelvic health struggles, a completely overlooked part of women's health. Or the founder of the nonprofit Struggle Is Your Success, Moose Abdel, whose organization is dedicated to helping young people in Canada navigate their difficult life challenges. These people, among countless others, are working tirelessly to make real changes in the systems that have left so many feeling hopeless or unseen. They stay hopeful, they focus on what they can control, and they just keep going.
It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the constant barrage of negative news: wars, climate disasters, political turmoil, etc. But if you look closely, there are bright spots, stories of people coming together, helping each other, and finding solutions. These aren’t just random acts of kindness. They’re intentional, community-driven efforts led by people who believe in a better future. In other words, they’re beacons of hope just by showing up every day.
Shifting the Narrative of Humanity
One of the books that has left a lasting impact on my thinking is Humankind: A Hopeful History by Rutger Bregman. I’ve been reading it slowly over the last year and a half because it challenges some of our most deeply ingrained ideas about human nature. For centuries, we’ve been told that humans are selfish, competitive, and even cruel at our core. From 1600s philosopher Thomas Hobbes' view of the "nasty, brutish" human condition to modern news outlets’ coverage that focuses on stories of conflict and fear, it’s easy to buy into the idea that humanity is fundamentally broken.
But Bregman flips that narrative on its head. He presents evidence from psychology, history, and sociology that suggests we are, in fact, wired for cooperation and compassion. One of the most striking examples in the book is how communities come together in times of crisis. Contrary to popular belief, during natural disasters or tragedies, people don’t descend into chaos; rather, they collaborate and look out for one another. This is our true nature. We thrive when we support each other, and it’s this capacity for kindness that gives me hope.
In a world where it feels like cruelty is louder and more pervasive, books like Humankind remind us that the goodness of people often works quietly, behind the scenes. The stories of neighbors helping neighbors, of grassroots movements fighting for social justice, or even just individuals showing small acts of kindness, might not always make headlines, but they matter. These moments of compassion are the fabric of a hopeful future.
Hope as a Muscle
It’s easy to feel hopeless in today’s world when there’s so much out of our control. But hope isn’t about ignoring the problems we face. It’s about choosing to focus on the solutions, the helpers, and the kindness we see around us. It’s about taking a step back from the overwhelming stream of information that makes us feel small and powerless, and instead looking at the ways, big and small, that we can contribute to change.
Another way to look at it is to view hope like a muscle. In my experience, hope is something that must be cultivated and actively nurtured. It doesn’t always come naturally when we’re bombarded with negativity, but it can grow when we intentionally seek out the stories and people working towards a better world. Surrounding yourself with those who are dedicated to making a difference, whether it’s through activism, education, or simple acts of compassion, can radically shift your perspective. When you start to notice the quiet acts of kindness around you, hope becomes a practice, something that can sustain you even in the most challenging times. And like with any activity, the more you practice, the stronger that muscle becomes. The goal is that staying hopeful eventually becomes part of your everyday practice, something that can help you stay grounded when everything around you feels overwhelming.
Ultimately, we are going to be okay. We live in a world where people are still deeply committed to justice, equality, and compassion. The loud voices may grab our attention, but it’s the quieter, consistent work of good people that will shape the future. The path forward is not without its challenges, but the strength and goodness of our collective humanity will see us through.
What do you think? What are some ways you’ve found glimmers of hope in your day-to-day, even when life feels overwhelming? I’d love to hear what works for others out there, and help lift each other up with tips and advice. Stay hopeful at all costs. You’re never alone.
I used to love my fancy corporate job. I felt so important, so proud. Just seeing the silver lettering of this company’s name on my résumé made me feel like I had made it. I was special, part of an elite group of employees who had managed to snag a spot in this globally-respected corporation.
But then, slowly, that feeling started to shift. That initial pride that once filled me began to feel hollow. There were moments, tiny ones at first, that chipped away at my enthusiasm. And what started as a bunch of "oh no" moments led me to one Wednesday afternoon when I just…quit. Nothing ceremonious. No drama or fireworks. I was just done.
Looking back, it’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment when things started to change. Maybe it was the constant feeling of being on a hamster wheel, always running but never quite getting anywhere. The more I achieved, the more there was to do. Over time, no amount of work or accomplishment seemed like enough.
Then, I began to understand something more insidious. Because I was young, spouse-less, and childless, my time was seen as flexible. To my employer, my “free” time wasn’t mine at all—it was theirs. I became available by default. Sure, I was being paid, but the real currency wasn’t my salary; it was my time, and the boundaries around it seemed to vanish. There was no clock-out time. It was this never-ending loop of availability and output.
If any of this resonates with you, if you’re reading this and thinking, “Wow, I feel that too”-- let’s take a moment to check in. How are you feeling? Do you feel stuck on the wheel, too? Do you think balance is even possible?
Here’s the thing: work wasn’t just work for me anymore. It had become life. And yet, I was supposed to act like I could “balance” the two. It was the subtle, constant expectation that we should love our jobs enough to blur the lines between personal and professional. We’re told we can "have it all"—the perfect job, a thriving social life, time for self-care. But at what cost?
The Illusion of Balance
Here’s the hard truth: the concept of work-life balance is a myth. It’s not about finding equilibrium; it’s about constantly negotiating how much of your personal life you're willing to sacrifice. For the longest time, I used to think I could juggle it all—that if I just managed my time better or worked harder, I could make space for everything. But no matter what I did there was always another email, another deadline, another “quick favor” that turned into hours of work. The lines between my life and my job and personal life became so blurry they practically disappeared, leaving me drained day after day.
Ironically, this constant striving for balance just led to more burnout. The system is designed for perpetual motion, for constant availability. We’re told that if we just manage our time better, work a little smarter, we’ll figure out this mythical balance. But that’s just another burden we carry.
When I finally quit, I felt guilty. But in the quiet that followed, I felt another shift. I wasn’t fighting for balance anymore; I was fighting for boundaries. I started to ask myself what I wanted my life to feel like. The scary thing? I had no idea. I’d been so wrapped up in the grind that I hadn’t thought about what I truly wanted outside of it.
Redefining Success and Balance
It’s not all doom and gloom and there’s a positive ending to this story, I promise. Now, after stepping away and taking time to reflect, here’s what I’ve learned: success doesn’t look the way we’ve been taught. It’s not about collecting fancy titles, climbing the corporate ladder, or glossy LinkedIn profiles. Success is about how much space you have in your life for the things that matter to you. It’s about the people you spend your time with, the projects that light you up, and yes, even the time you take to rest.
For so long, I believed that my worth was tied to my work. That if I could just push harder and juggle everything, I’d reach some kind of perfect balance. But here’s the thing: balance isn’t about splitting your time evenly between work and life. Sometimes, balance is found in knowing when to let go of the idea that you need to juggle everything in the first place.
So, if you’re reading this and feel trapped, if you’re starting to dread Monday by the time Friday rolls around, I’m here to tell you: it’s okay to step off the wheel. It’s okay to redefine what success means to you.
Take stock of your life. What do you really want? What makes you happy? And most importantly, what are you willing to let go of to get there? Balance might not be about perfectly splitting your time between work and personal matters. It might be about realizing that you don’t need to keep up with someone else’s journey or the traditional definitions of success that have become so deeply-ingrained within our culture. And that’s totally okay. I make a conscious effort to take breaks. Whether it's going for a long walk outside, catching up with friends over a game of pickleball (my current favorite), or sticking to my therapy appointments, these moments are essential for self-care. Stepping away from the screen and getting out of my own head helps remind me that my life is being lived.
Remember, you have the power to create the life you want, one where success is defined by how much joy and fulfillment you have, not how much work you can cram into a day. Don’t be afraid to take that step back, reevaluate what truly matters to you, and chart a new path forward.
Because sometimes, balance isn’t about finding equilibrium—it’s about choosing to live a life that feels right for you.
If this post resonated with you, drop a comment below. What are some things you’ve done to reflect, navigate change, and plan for your future? I’d love to hear your thoughts!
