One in a Millennial: On Friendship, Feelings, Fangirls, and Fitting In

by Kate Kennedy

Though I guess trying to have people guess if “HrSeGrL610” means “horse girl” or “hearse girl” keeps things interesting! One’s a Felicity Merriman, the other a Vada Sultenfuss. Win-win!

People seem surprised when in passing I highlight the sexual magnetism of a VW Cabrio or Toyota Solara like it’s a Ferrari, but I’d be open to a Pontiac Sunfire, too!

My dream car to this day is a Geo Tracker, like the one

Torrance’s mean boyfriend in the ribbed turtleneck drove in Bring It On, ideally with a white soft top, purple exterior, and a teal racing stripe like a 1993 Sea-Doo.

don’t keep in touch with everyone, but still think about them often. Weirdly, I always dream about my high-school friends; there’s something so important about the people you first experience teenage rites of passage with, and I think my subconscious feels safe with them.

Since the 2016 election, I don’t know how to exist without being in a state of feeling heated, with my general disposition at a light simmer, usually dialing up to a rolling boil by the time I pass Mario Lopez on channel 00 to get to the news.

The first time I saw Garden State in college, not only did I think being able to share that I liked that movie would make me seem deep and indie, it also was one of the first movies that addressed (what I saw as) high-functioning mental-health issues head-on, where a person moved through the world and felt completely numb. Unfortunately, the resolution in that film was exposing the evil psychiatrist parent who was overmedicating Zach Braff’s character, and when he chose to not get help, he started thriving. Not a great message for me to internalize at the time. Great soundtrack, though!

still tried to go out a ton, though, genuinely thinking it would help clear the fog, but as I’m sure you can guess, being depressed and consuming a depressive substance in excess isn’t helpful at all. But I’d never learn; instead I’d try to get home first, often crying on my walk, so I could get in bed with Easy Mac and listen to Coldplay to reassure me that no one ever said it would be this hard. Maybe I’d dream

Now I can find joy in watching other people experience their interests; I genuinely like just being around people who are energized and celebrating something for the sake of pleasure. The version of me now would have just gone and LOLed at the intensity of the male-capri spectacle, happy for them that they’ve got their thing. But I wasn’t able to do that then, and I was incredibly negative toward my surroundings, and I’m not sure that I gave it a fair chance. I feel

How cruel it felt for someone to go so far out of their way to make it clear they don’t want a boyfriend title, to barely acknowledge me in public, yet they still felt entitled to touch me in private.

was then I realized what was happening; he lied. And I spiraled. All of these guys who friend-zoned me were lying. We weren’t “too good of friends” to date; I felt like a secret, a side project, not publicly shareable material

for a girlfriend or mate. She was good enough for a formal announcement, good enough to click through to see her face, good enough to earn the title because she was the best fit for the cover. Like many friends-with-benefits stalemates, I would have argued he did something wrong by leading me on, I’d imagine he would argue I had romanticized the situation into something it wasn’t. It was probably a little bit of both. But what I did know was that I wasn’t a best friend. I was a backup plan, a warm body at best.

Fortunately, Taylor Swift released the “All Too Well” ten-minute version in her Red (Taylor’s Version) release, and I think I speak on behalf of countless women when I say that scream-singing about someone being so “casually cruel in the name of being honest” healed a generation.

I think about these small moments where people supported me, the ones my whole future hinged upon, and I’m just so grateful to have had women in my life who looked out for my potential when I wasn’t feeling like myself.

Maybe it’s unpopular that millennials often stray from traditional professionalism; we get a bad rap for being more vulnerable or casual in work settings.

But I think it’s pretty special to forge connections with coworkers who feel like family. We spend so much of our lives working, and being in good company along the way makes it worth it. I

Needless to say, for me, motherhood has always been a sore subject. But recently, I’ve learned pregnancy loss is more like an open wound. Experiencing that changed a lot for me. It’s an open wound with the most vulnerable scab, forced to constantly replenish its surface-level protection as it’s picked at daily, not by you, but inadvertently by other people’s joy. This makes it difficult to be honest about your pain; you feel like a monster making other people’s pregnancy announcements, baby showers, gender reveals, and sonograms about you. The thing is, on most days, it’s fine, it will scab. But the optics of healing can incorrectly signal those around you the worst is behind you, as it usually would be with the passage of time.

No one can prepare you for the period of time in your mid- to late twenties when your social life is literally only other people’s milestones. I used to get such anxiety about going to social functions because people would harp on the fact we had been dating for five years and weren’t engaged. But we were so young!

Pursuing motherhood ended up being my personal choice, but to be clear, it’s not what I think is right or necessary for others, nor something anyone needs to be fulfilled.

But the point I want to get across most of all is this: to me, if any part of you believes in protecting people in circumstances like I’ve mentioned, and if you see the gray areas and the need for exceptions, that is a pro-choice stance. Being pro-choice isn’t an extremist position, it simply allows for nuance. Advocates like me are painted as people who want to harm innocent

lives, but it’s the opposite. I want to care for the precious lives on this earth and ask people to have empathy for the insurmountable challenges like the ones I’ve detailed that people go through in bringing life here, and hopefully find the humility to admit that we cannot possibly know what is best for everyone and should not be making choices for them.

meant a lot to me, and I say that to remind people that sometimes the best way to support someone isn’t to ignore their pain. I’ve learned it means the world to me to be allowed to have my pain exist alongside others’ joy, concern, or heartbreak.

While the “like what you like!” argument is not the crux of feminism, feeling ashamed of and dismissed for your interests or taste is certainly a contributor to dangerous cycles of self-regulation that can impact the confidence of young people, and I wish I’d honored my inner fangirl more often than I prioritized fitting in.

Over time, I’ve learned it’s not about denouncing others’ opinions entirely or ignoring well-meaning feedback; it’s about creating a system of values based on what matters to you, and being selective about whose opinions hold the most authority in your book.

live your life doing exactly what you want— What you really, really want.