Gen Z, You're a Force — But Stay Open To Receiving

Real talk: it hits different when someone calls us out. The knee‑jerk move? Ghost them, mute them, move on. But what if that sting is exactly what we need?

If you ever find yourself drifting away from someone just because you don’t like their critique, pause for a second. Ask yourself: what is it that I’m really avoiding? Is it what they’re saying, or how it makes me feel.

Disagreement isn’t disrespect. And criticism, however uncomfortable, can be the first honest mirror we get. You could walk away, of course. But sometimes, you might be walking away from something that could help you grow.

If you start skipping conversations simply because someone sees the world differently, you may be quietly building a world with no friction, no challenge and no contradiction. It might feel safe at first, but it won’t stay interesting, and it won’t stretch you.

If you’re choosing solitude not because you love it, but because you’ve convinced yourself that others aren’t worth your time — that they’re shallow, small‑minded or behind — the loss might quietly become yours. It’s easy to romanticise distance. But sometimes, distance is just disguised arrogance. And the longer you wear it, the lonelier it can get.

We live in an age that celebrates individualism, yet sometimes it tips into isolation. The language of boundaries and self‑care matters, but it isn’t a licence to cut off everyone who unsettles you. Authenticity doesn’t mean never feeling uncomfortable. And strength isn’t only in standing your ground; it’s also in listening, questioning and changing.

You won’t always agree with generations older than you. Nor should you have to. Every era has its blind spots. But disagreement doesn’t need contempt. Wisdom isn’t owned by any single generation. It moves across time, and humility is what keeps us able to receive it, even from someone whose worldview you’ve outgrown.

I’ve learned — often the hard way — that knowing a lot isn’t the same as understanding deeply. There’s a difference between having access to information and having insight. Real learning often begins when we admit what we don’t yet know, and stay willing to be guided by someone who’s failed more, thought longer or lived differently.

Expertise isn’t always obvious. Wisdom doesn’t always arrive neatly packaged. Sometimes, the person you scroll past because they don’t look the part, sound the part or post like the part might carry the insight you most need. But you’ll miss it because you were scanning for sparkle instead of substance.

It’s tempting to idolise the curated, the viral and the perfectly lit. But while polish is pleasing, substance is what sustains. Some of the most valuable ideas might come from people who don’t speak in the language of your timeline. If you only listen to voices that match your feed, how will you ever learn a new one?

Algorithms aren’t neutral. They keep feeding us what we already like until what we like becomes all that we know. Slowly, the world shrinks to our preferences, and anything unfamiliar feels wrong instead of simply new. That isn’t clarity; it’s customisation disguised as truth.

In your emotional life too, name your feelings, but also learn to calibrate them. Not every discomfort is trauma. Not every disagreement is toxicity. Not every stern word is emotional damage. When you call yourself “depressed” because your parent scolded you, you might not just be mislabelling your feelings; you could also be trivialising the real, hidden struggles others carry. Your emotions matter, but so do theirs. Try to see what shaped the people around you before judging how they show love, fear or care.

Not everything that feels uncomfortable is unsafe. Sometimes, what hurts at first is actually growth in disguise. Feelings are real, but they’re not always final or factual. Learning to question them, rather than letting them rule your choices, is part of becoming emotionally mature.

Some of you hold on to nostalgia like armour, romanticising your past not because it was perfect but because the present feels uncertain. Remembering is human. But when memory becomes a home instead of a reference point, you might be more stuck than you realise.

And if you keep measuring people only by who they once were, ask yourself honestly: are you really growing, or just getting better at judging? Growth means extending to others the same grace you hope to be given. Forgiveness isn’t weakness. Changing isn’t hypocrisy. People learn, unlearn and evolve — and that must include you too.

Don’t fall for the myth that you have to change the world before you’re thirty. Real impact is rarely instant or loud. Sometimes it’s slow, steady and quiet. You’re allowed to take your time. You’re allowed to build brick by brick. Not everything worth doing will go viral, and that isn’t failure; that’s patience.

And when you catch yourself comparing your messy now to someone else’s perfect “after” online, remember it’s often a highlight reel, not a life. Most of us are figuring it out as we go. Their polish isn’t their whole truth.

When your own inner voice turns sharp, meet it gently. You’re not supposed to have all the answers. You’re not weak because you messed up. You’re human. Perfection was never the goal; growth was.

The world loves charisma, but character is what lasts. It’s easy to impress for a moment. It’s harder, and far more valuable, to be dependable over time. Keep showing up. Keep doing the work. Even when it’s boring. Especially when it’s boring.

You don’t have to respond to everything. Silence isn’t weakness. Sometimes, the biggest growth comes in stepping back, going quiet and reflecting instead of reacting. Stillness isn’t disconnection; it’s deeper awareness.

This generation is brilliant, creative and emotionally aware in ways no generation before has been. You’re rewriting norms, questioning biases and shaking up stale rooms. That’s power. But strength isn’t only in speaking up; it’s also in knowing when to listen, and when to let something that unsettles you teach you something.

Don’t let individualism turn into isolation. Don’t let curated opinions become your cage. And above all, don’t let sensitivity become an excuse to avoid the very conversations that could shape you.

The world isn’t out to get you. It’s out there, waiting to meet you — if you stay open long enough to understand it.

Soon, the world you’re questioning now will be the world you’re shaping. That isn’t a burden; it’s a privilege. And it starts not by silencing others, but by choosing who you’re willing to hear.

If any of this feels like it’s "not for you", maybe sit with that for a bit. Because often, what we reject fastest is what we most need to hear.

With more belief in you than you know, someone still learning too.

Srinath Sridharan, corporate adviser and independent director on corporate boards. Author of ‘Family and Dhanda’.

Disclaimer: The views expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of NDTV Profit or its editorial team.