Qualitative research data in this article was collected from a Koi Pond study run by NinetyEight in November 2024. The Koi Pond is NinetyEight’s proprietary research community with over 1,200+ Gen Z participants. Learn more about The Koi Pond here.
When I look at my lifestyle as a 26 year old entrepreneur, I realize that much of my time is spent alone. I see my coworkers, but over Zoom. I spend time with my family, but only on the weekends. I see friends at gatherings we’ve pre-planned and booked on our calendars like two weeks in advance. Much of my daily time is filled with “me time”: bingewatching on Netflix, listening to Spotify playlists, cooking a new recipe, reading a book. I’m in my “main character energy” era and my time has never been more my own than it is today. While I have discovered the magic of enforcing my personal boundaries, I’ve also become aware that much of my day-to-day social life & interaction has been reduced to a little rectangular device (AKA my phone) - FaceTiming my long distance friends or partner, replying to someone’s IG story, sending a funny TikTok, messaging the group chat. It’s 2025 though and I, like my Gen Z peers, am starting to wake up: it looks like we went a little too hard on protecting our peace (oopsies!).
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A Koi Pond respondent says, “I feel like people substitute physical communities with social/parasocial/online communities. So there is a strong sense of community but it exists in a way that it didn’t with previous generations.” - Ashwarya, 1997
Gen Z is navigating an era of economic instability, political chaos, and a mental health crisis – all while being the most online generation in history. These trends of "main character energy" and "setting boundaries" aren’t just social media buzzwords – they’re survival tactics in an ever-demanding world. We watched millennials burn out from a lack of work-life balance and older generations suppress their emotions for the sake of appearances. No wonder we’ve embraced therapy speak and emotional intelligence like it’s our second language (*ehem*: "gaslighting," "toxic energy," "trauma responses").
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In typical Gen Z fashion, we’ve decided to reclaim our own narratives. But somewhere along the way, they started to complicate the way we connect with others. As we focus on personal well-being, the organic ways of forming community have slipped away. Simple favors? Less common. Borrowing sugar from your neighbor? A thing of the past. Now, everything feels more transactional: Venmo requests for gas money, detached dating, even friendships that feel like networking opportunities.
One Koi Pond member reflected, "I don’t think it’s entirely selfish, but I do think it isolates people and can lead to depression issues. We put so much pressure into “knowing ourselves,” and when you can’t figure out who you are it makes you isolate or believe you’re always meant to be the center of attention. Protecting your peace too hard can also cause even more problems when you’re finally introduced to a difficult situation, sometimes stress and being uncomfortable is needed in life.” - Katelynn, 2005
So, while we’re better at self-awareness, we’re also at risk of losing the very thing that keeps us grounded: genuine human connection. How do we protect our peace without unintentionally isolating ourselves?
Community today obviously looks different than it did before: our grandparents had neighborhood block parties. Our parents had tight-knit friend groups from childhood. Gen Z? We have Discord servers and group chats. Community used to mean physical spaces, intergenerational support, and spontaneous social interactions. Now, it’s curated, digital, and often opt-in. It exists, but it feels different. For me, it’s literally my dream to be a regular at a local joint and experience the simple joy and intimacy of seeing familiar faces and them knowing you and your go-to order. Is that too much to ask for?
As another Koi Pond member says, “Screens and technology give the illusion of community and connection, which make us more lonely and isolated.” - Shelby, 1999
At the end of the day, we want connection. We want community. We just don’t want to compromise our well-being to get it. Or do we? Being in close community with others means being put in situations that require sacrifice, compromise, and our boundaries and comfort zones being challenged or pushed. While it can be difficult and feel uncomfortable at times, it does foster growth, companionship, and support - all things so much greater than a lack of discomfort. When we are part of a community, we are supposed to bother each other. That’s the whole point! When did that become “compromising our well-being”? The need for connection for Gen Z runs deep, and it’s important for brands to understand that the future of wellness and self-care for Gen Z isn’t just about bubble baths and journaling: it’s about collective care. We’re shifting from me to we, recognizing that individual peace and communal care can coexist.
One Gen Z respondent summed it up: "You can't draw water from a dry well. Self-care is an important part of community care, and it's important to realize that we don't have the tools alone to deal with every issue. That's a balance every person has to feel for themselves.” - Ana, 1997

This is where brands have an opportunity to step up and really make a difference in Gen Z’s lives. Third spaces are fading, and there’s a gap waiting to be filled. We’ve seen the rise of run clubs and the celebrity lookalike contests as a response to this need. We’re also seeing an initial rise in new brands aiming to fill this gap, like Timeleft - which enabled me to connect with 4 strangers over dinner while I was traveling in Porto, Portugal.
Whether it’s through creating IRL events or championing grassroots movements, the brands that stand out are the ones that help Gen Z find meaningful connections both on and offline. It’s about using the digital to cultivate tangible IRL connections among Gen Z - supporting the narrative that we don’t have to self-care alone.