“To be fed up is to be free.”
This is a slogan that Gen Z likes in meme form, but in reality, they would rather play it safe.
Gen Z (those born between 1997 and 2012) are obsessed with being disgusted, or perhaps more appropriately, obsessed with avoiding it.
From the carefully selected Gen Z pout to the sophisticated “influencer accents” that populate TikTok’s For You pages, the goal is to look effortless. Through TikTok, Instagram, and group chats, young people are constantly editing themselves, cutting out anything that might be seen as trying, awkward, or embarrassing.
That pressure shapes our behavior both online and offline.
“Social anxiety is definitely on the rise in Gen Z, and part of the reason is because people are spending more time online, and they can really worry and fear that decision,” says Lauren Cook, Ph.D., a clinical psychologist and author of The Anxious Generation: A Millennial and Gen Z Guide to Surviving an Uncertain World. “It becomes a vicious self-fulfilling prophecy of being afraid to do anything because I’ll be made fun of.”
disgusting looking horror
A poll conducted by Yahoo/YouGov in April 2026 found that more than half of Gen Z adults avoid expressing themselves online for fear of being offended. The impact extends beyond the internet, with 55% saying similar fears have prevented them from opening up emotionally to someone.
Online, this aversion to discomfort manifests itself in a variety of ways.
There’s a term that Gen Z uses to poke fun at outdated trends: cheeggy, which often targets millennial trends like skinny jeans and chevron prints. There is something called “disgusting” that is caused by a virus. This is the feeling of suddenly (and usually irrevocably) feeling disgusted with someone you once found attractive.
There are viral skits that poke fun at people for “thinking they’re the main character,” and they sometimes film unassuming concert goers and restaurant patrons for content. Influencer comedians like Madison Humphrey and Mitzi Sanderson have built massive platforms for parodying awkward moments.
Many of them are intended for playfulness. But Chloe Forero, a 23-year-old influencer from Chicago, says the effect is that Gen Z is afraid of existing online without being analyzed for their content.
“We live in a culture that is obsessed with the casual and at the same time obsessed with performance as a whole,” Forero says. “But you will be punished if you are seen actually participating in the performance that we are all putting on.”
This trend reflects Gen Z’s tendency to be more risk-averse than other generations.
Young people drink less, have less sex, and go to fewer parties. While these things can be positive, they can also be indicators of increased social isolation. Many Gen Zers have been unable to spend significant time in classrooms or offices during the pandemic, which has affected their social skills.
Forero and Cook say this anxiety spills over into people’s everyday behavior in real life, such as being hesitant to ask someone out on a date or being afraid to share an opinion with a friend.
“When you understand, ‘I am who I am and I own it, and if you have a problem with it, that’s your problem,’ that’s a very empowering place,” Cook says. “But I think for Gen Z, it really feels like a free fall and they’re very afraid of what’s actually going to happen.”
What do Gen Z’s pouts, influencer accents, and quiet screams say about young people?
Tired discourse is becoming increasingly prominent in Gen Z’s physical slang.
Perhaps the most obvious example is the selfie face that Gen Z loves. A style in which the upper lip is stretched too far and tucked under the lower lip, popularized by stars such as Lily-Rose Depp, Rachel Sennott and Ariana Greenblatt, and has been dubbed the “Gen Z pout.” You could call her the modest younger sister of the Millennial duck face.
“It reflects a level of nonchalance, a sense of mystery, an interest in appearing not to care, but also going out of your way to create a face that people find pleasing,” Forero says of the face.
The same instinct is evident in lifestyle creator influencers’ accents, which are characterized by high pitched voices, word length, and extra emphasis. Also notable are skits about “Silent Screams” and “Gen Z Girls with No Quirks.”
Even when performing, it is important to appear subtle or unintentional.
These gestures are shaped by a combination of influencer aesthetics and pop culture. It often occurs online, but quickly spreads into general behavior.
“Right now, I would argue that the core of most children’s social experiences is online,” Forero said. “It’s like, ‘This is absolutely essential to my experience as a young adult, but I don’t want people to think I care too much.'”
It’s a stark contrast to the heavily filtered, contoured photos of the 2010s. Now, even if the content is carefully staged, the photo is bound to look unplanned and haphazard.
“People no longer want to act as if nothing is planned,” Forero says. “A well-curated Instagram post, in my opinion, is much more intentional than a filtered selfie from 2017.”
How will Gen Z climb the “cramped mountain”?
Some Gen Zers are combating their pent-up fears by “climbing a poop mountain.”
The phrase, coined by 33-year-old content creator and consultant Erica Mallett, refers to coming to terms with those painful feelings. To reach the land of cool (i.e., success, fame, money), one must climb the cringe mountain (i.e., embrace embarrassment, failure, and discomfort).
“What you forget is that everyone who is cool or good at something now, at some point, had to climb an uphill mountain,” Mallett explained in a March 2023 TikTok.
According to Mallett, haters never hate from the land of cool, they always hate from the land of base camp. Mallett later founded Theory of One to teach content creators how to overcome their fear of discomfort.
“If you’ve been climbing, you don’t hate people who are still climbing, because they know what it’s like to climb Kuringe Mountain,” she said in another TikTok. “These assholes…don’t have the courage to start climbing.”
Forero had to climb that mountain herself when she became an influencer, and although she quickly grew from less than 100,000 followers to more than 1 million in 2023, she says it was the “hardest” year of her life due to the criticism she received.
She wants young people to know that while criticism is inevitable, they can change the way it affects them.
“Instead of living for yourself, you’re living for others, and other people don’t care as much about your well-being and well-being as you would like them to,” says Forero. “To be fed up is to be free. I’m not the first person to say that, but I truly believe it.”
Rachel Hale’s role covering youth mental health for USA TODAY is supported by a partnership with Pivotal and Journalism Funding Partners. Funders do not provide editorial input. Contact her at rhale@usatoday.com. @rachleighhale With X.
