Two years ago, I stood outside the door of an exercise club with the adrenaline levels of an animal being hunted for sport. Was I in danger? Was I being stalked across an Arctic tundra? No, I was merely 24 and being faced with the feat of speaking to people I didn’t know. I could hear my millennial counterparts scoffing at my nerves. I could hear my baby boomer mother imploring me to ‘get on with it’. In fact, I could feel every generation before me gawking with confusion at the spectacle on Camden High Street: one Gen Z vs. one new social activity.
New data from Hinge says 65% of Gen Z want to meet people in real life, and 85% of Gen Z Brits say they feel lonely. Like so many others my age, I was desperate for in-person connections outside of my work and existing group. I’d moved to North London, and I wanted an activity where I could meet new people in my community. Yet my own awkwardness, my inbuilt Gen Z cringe-ometer, made the task feel insurmountable.
