Millennials are often labeled as entitled, overly sensitive, or obsessed with complaining. We’re told the movies and TV shows we grew up watching made us weak or unrealistic. But that framing misses something important. The stories we were raised on weren’t mindless distractions—they were rooted in imagination, morality, and possibility. Those films asked us to think, to hope, and to see ourselves in characters who overcame odds. They didn’t teach us laziness; they taught us belief. They encouraged us to imagine a future where meaning mattered as much as success. Sometimes, that even led us to idealize the world.

That optimism didn’t make us weak; it made us question possibilities. Many of us learned early that reality doesn’t always reward effort fairly. I failed often. I trusted people who didn’t deserve to be trusted. I learned that vulnerability can be exploited. Advice is rarely neutral. Most people speak from self-interest or limited experience. Like many millennials, I carried quiet fears. I worried about financial instability and loneliness. The fear of public failure loomed large. There was also the shame of not “figuring it out” fast enough.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that much of what millennials were taught about success was outdated. The teachings about security and the “right” path were socially conditioned or simply untrue. We were handed rigid formulas in a world that no longer operates by fixed rules. Thinking critically means filtering the constant noise, questioning authority, and recognizing that no one can predict your life. There is no universal blueprint. Many commonly accepted pros and cons are based on flawed assumptions and selective evidence.

What sets millennials apart is not entitlement, but awareness. We see how quickly success can disappear, how unstable systems really are, and how hollow some traditional milestones have become. That awareness forces us inward. The most valuable work isn’t climbing a prescribed ladder—it’s working on yourself. To outsiders, that can look like stagnation or regression. In reality, it’s an adaptation.

I thank God for giving me joy in uncertainty and strength in seasons of rebuilding. People often speak in generalities, but life is lived in specifics. While some truths are universal, most choices demand personal discernment. Hope, resilience, and meaning are not handed to you—you choose them.

I’ve always wanted to build something of my own and do work that matters. I’ve had to start over again and again, like many in my generation. And I’ve learned to embrace the phrase “Trabajo más trabajo”—there’s more work to be done. Not because we are behind, but because millennials understand that growth is ongoing, not guaranteed, and never finished.