In a world where social media often pushes us into predefined niches, it's easy to lose sight of our true selves. Generation Z—anyone born between 1997 and 2012—knows this struggle all too well, including myself. But this began long before my generation became consumed with how we perceive ourselves online. The digital age has only intensified a process that has been shaping generational identities for decades.
For years, cultural and societal changes have shaped how generations are defined and perceived, often even before they reach adulthood. Take the Baby Boomers, for example—people born after World War II, between 1946 and 1964. The term "boom" coined by the media described the sharp increase in birth rates during that period. As a generation, they are often stereotyped as those who value stability. Today, many view them as out of touch with modern culture, sometimes being dismissed by younger people with phrases like “OK boomer” whenever they express outdated views.
A similar pattern applies to other generations. Generation X (born between the mid-1960s and early 1980s) grew up during significant social changes, including the rise in divorce rates and rapid technological advancement. Often labeled as the "middle child" generation, they are characterized by a blend of skepticism and independence, shaped by economic uncertainty and a declining birth rate. Millennials follow Gen X (born between 1980 and 1996), known as the “digital natives,” who came of age alongside the rise of the internet and the expansion of social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter (now X).
Then there’s Generation Z—my generation—who are anywhere between their late teens to mid-20s and entering adulthood for the first time. Raised by Gen X parents, we are considered the first "digital generation." Gen Z is characterized by having never known life without internet access. Our childhoods unfolded alongside the rise of smartphones, wearables, and virtual assistants, embedding technology deeply into our lives. We are highly engaged on platforms like TikTok, Instagram, YouTube, Snapchat, Discord, and more, where digital interaction often replaces in-person socializing. This digital immersion has defined us in different ways, but it has also come with its own set of challenges.
Growing up online was partly a choice, and partly a necessity, driven by political, economic, and social forces. We witnessed major historical events: 9/11, the 2008 recession, Barack Obama's election, the legalization of same-sex marriage, and an increasing number of school shootings. All of these events have profoundly shaped our collective psyche. Now, as we enter another decade marked by the COVID-19 pandemic, international conflicts and wars, and the upcoming 2024 presidential election, Generation Z faces a profound lack of social connectedness.
The challenges we face today have left many of us feeling isolated and anxious about the future.
The American Psychological Association notes that Generation Z is more likely (27%) than other generations to report their mental health as fair or poor, compared to millennials (15%) and Gen Xers (13%).[1] Even more concerning, a report from Harmony Healthcare IT shows that 61% of Gen Z have been diagnosed with an anxiety condition.[2] We are entering adulthood as the most anxious generation, burdened with student debt and concerns about the future. These statistics reveal a generation that is overwhelmed, struggling to find a sense of purpose in a world that often feels out of control.
On a path to find my own sense of purpose, I began my college journey in 2018 at Temple University in North Philadelphia, majoring in Media Studies and Production (MSP), and later pursuing a master’s in the same field. In my final year, I asked myself, “What kind of mark do I want to leave on society that is spiraling?” Reflecting on my childhood, I found inspiration in the one thing I had always been passionate about—fashion.
I had always dreamed of becoming a model but struggled with self-confidence due to my body image. Growing up in the early 2000s, the fashion industry’s rigid standards, amplified by social media, excluded those who didn’t fit the “model look.” When I was 16 at a modeling boot camp, I was told, “You are going to be hungry as a model,” which struck me as offensive, reinforcing the idea I didn't fit the mold. I frequently heard comments like, “Oh, you’ll grow into your body,” or “You just have strong muscles and bones,” which made me doubt my appearance and led to a distorted view of beauty based on unrealistic online standards. While I didn’t realize it at the time, these experiences introduced me to social anxiety and made me feel disconnected from my peers.
After those experiences, I knew I wanted to create a space for models that embraced people rather than turned them away. It’s incredible to think that this vision would become a reality eight years later. During college, I decided to challenge these perceptions. I wanted to change how young women viewed their bodies and provide a platform where they could see models who looked like them. As an older sister, I aimed to inspire younger generations, showcasing the diversity and beauty of all body types. I wanted them to see that there is no single way to be beautiful.
For my master’s thesis, I organized a fashion show, Figures, to create a safe space for women to feel comfortable in their own skin, beyond societal standards. I researched women’s garments, body positivity, and the history of fashion movements, particularly in shapewear. The show was a success, earning local media coverage and selling out despite my lack of capital as a full-time working student.
I finished my final semester with high marks and had the opportunity to impact over 100 guests, 50 models, eight designers, and a fantastic support crew. Graduating in spring 2023, I knew I had left an incredible mark on my Temple University and Philadelphia communities as I strutted across the stage to receive my diploma for the second time.
Now, in 2024, I’m preparing for my next show. Encouraged by those who participated in Figures, including two models who signed with agencies afterward, I was inspired to continue. From this passion, Authenticity Projects was born.
Based in Philadelphia, Authenticity Projects is a model and media startup committed to empowering individuals of all genders and cultural backgrounds by reclaiming and reshaping mainstream fashion. Our recent show explored social anxiety in the context of Generation Z and revisits comforting, Y2K nostalgic styles during a time of uncertainty. It speaks to those in the shadows of society who fear being themselves. In an era where we are constantly online, are we truly presenting ourselves authentically?
Understanding why social anxiety is such a pervasive issue for our generation means exploring spaces where people can simply exist and connect, free from obligations or societal pressure. These "third places"—places outside of home and work—are vanishing due to corporate influence and lack of public awareness. This summer, Authenticity Projects organized photoshoots in local third places with Generation Z models to highlight the sense of community these spaces offer.
This year's show encouraged people to be their true selves, both online and in person in their communities. As Billie Eilish says in her song "Not My Responsibility”, which inspired this show’s theme, it’s not the opinions of others that matter. It’s about being yourself, finding your group and your groove. That is what authenticity is all about and is a step on the path to living an authentically beautiful life.
Images courtesy of Authenticity Projects.
Footnotes:
[1] Sophie Bethune, “Gen Z More Likely to Report Mental Health Concerns,” Monitor on Psychology, January 2019, https://www.apa.org/monitor/2019/01/gen-z.
[2] Alejandra O’Connell-Domenech, “Over 60 Percent of Gen Z Have an Anxiety Disorder,” The Hill: Changing America, October 2, 2023, https://thehill.com/changing-america/well-being/mental-health/4234365-over-60-percent-of-gen-z-have-an-anxiety-disorder/.
