Add Jealousy, Jealousy by Olivia Rodrigo to your playlist - NOW!

(The words and opinions of this blog are that of the author & her experiences. This is not professional advice, & should not be used in lieu of that.)

This song may be a perfect snapshot of the teen social experience. So many people claim that modern pop music is bad, trash, vapid… but Jealousy, Jealousy could be an invaluble gem allowing us to have insight into the lens of todays adolescent experience.

Social Media is a highlight reel. We know this and we even parrot this line to others. But even as adults, we fall into the same trap. We scroll through curated snapshots of success, beauty, wellness, motherhood, ambition, activism, friendship and somewhere between those swipes, we start to shrink. Or perform. Or both.

The way I want to be you so bad, and I don’t even know you.

Damn Rodrigo, you nailed it.

That line echoes in my head. Especially for todays youth, who are figuring out who they are while being bombarded with who they should be. I can only imagine how relentless it would be for them. It’s loud. It’s quiet. It’s in their hands, on their screens, in their faces… all the time.

When I was that age, the comparison and online presence really stopped when the computer screen turned off. I just cusped the bloom of social media in high school. MSN messenger was the leading online connector when I entered my teenage years, which evolved into MySpace. Laptops were for ‘business people’, not for everyone - we had the grey block family computer set up in the corner of the lounge room.

Now the screen is life. Social media isn’t just a platform, it’s a stage where identity is built, questioned, and sometimes dismantled in real time (cancel culture can get vicious and ruthless fast). And it doesn’t wait for you to grow into yourself or to make mistakes and learn from them. It demands you already know and any apology given is meticulously dissected and critiqued for its percived lack of authenticity or correct wording.

I truly worry for this generation and not because they’re ‘less resilient’ than previous ones like so many seem to point and say. But because the pressure is stronger than ever, and the blame is on the kids who are born into a society that hasn’t existed without mass social media presence, of nearly literally everyone.

Comparison is killing me slowly.

This song is just bar after bar. The reality is this line, ‘comparison is killing me slowly’, she’s not exaggerating. Olivia identifies a feeling so many are ashamed to name. That silent self judgement /dejection that we are less than, who we follow online. Us adults all parrot the line “Social media is just a highlight reel” and we know this, but do we really believe it?

We know the reel is edited, filtered, sometimes faked… but it still gets in. We still measure ourselves against it, consciously or not. I’ll admit I do it - even though I continually talk about how we shouldn’t! Your imperfection is perfection (except for me), show up when you can in the capacity you can (except for me, I should do more/better), social media is just a highlight reel (but not for me, it needs to reflect real life but also omit my kids who are the majority and consume most of my life).

I know my capacity and spoons look different to others and for the most part I’m ok with that. But the thoughts creep in as I see other neurodivergent creators navigate physical and online spaces with so much more consistency and growth than I do, and I find myself wishing I could ‘just be better, just be more like… them’. Be more business minded. More professional. More.

On the other side I occasionally have people DM my socials and write ‘to the team of Nell Harris’ or ‘if this message could be passed onto Nell Harris’… and while there is a compliment in there, it also trips something else in me (that is completely within me and my perceptions of onlince). I’m fake, I’m a fraud, I’m not authentically showing that it’s just one artist who has found herself in a position she could never have anticipated or prepared for...

Im so sick of myself.

I have tried to make my social presence as authentic as possible. I am ok with people having insight that I am imperfect, consistently inconsistent, frequently overwhelmed, and doing my best… yet I’m not good enough… for my standards of me. And where is that basis of comparison coming from? 😏

I love uncomfortable emotions, they brood reflection and development. To acknowledge a feeling then unpacking why we are feeling that feeling and where it comes from can deepen our empathic understanding of self and others. Or maybe I’m the cliche ‘tortured artist’, but the point I’m trying to get to is that maybe what makes this song so potent is that it doesn’t try to fix anything. It just feels it.

And maybe that’s what our kids need too. Not endless solutions or the “back in my day” speeches, not us adults continually repeating “social media is a highlight reel” while simultaneously falling victim too even though we know. Not saying “just put the phone down, ignore it and it will go away”.

But acknowledgement. Language. Honesty.

Someone to say: “Yeah. I know that feeling.” “I’ve felt that way too.” “It confuses my brain too on how it feels positive in the short term, but worse in the long term.”
While still reminding them that “You don’t have to be anyone else to matter.”

Because this stuff? It is hard.
And they’re not alone in it.
Neither are we.

Take a moment and really listen. Jealousy, Jealousy by Olivia Rodrigo is here.

Recommended read: The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt

“We rewired childhood. Now we have to fix it.”

That’s the central thesis of Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation, and honestly—it’s hard to argue with. This book isn’t just another fear-mongering take on kids and screen time. It’s a calm, evidence-based unpacking of something most of us already feel but haven’t fully grasped:

Something has shifted. And it’s hurting our kids.

Haidt outlines the rise of what he calls the “phone-based childhood”. A cultural shift that began in the early 2010s when smartphones, high-speed internet, and social media collided. It didn’t happen maliciously. It happened quietly, gradually. But the results are beginning to be noticed.

  • A spike in anxiety, depression, and self-harm.

  • A collapse in unstructured play, real-world friendships, and sleep.

  • A generation that is more connected and more lonely than ever before.

The book is full of data, but it’s the clarity of the patterns that hits hardest. Haidt draws the line straight
The earlier and more often kids are on screen, particularly social media, the more likely they are to struggle emotionally.

And yet... this isn’t a guilt trip. It’s not about blaming parents or kids. It’s about seeing clearly what’s changed, and reclaiming what childhood could be. None of us who are adults know what it like to grow up in this digital age, how inescapable it is, and

He offers four key “norms” he believes we need to rebuild.

  1. No smartphones before high school

  2. No social media before age 16

  3. More independence, free play, and responsibility in the real world

  4. More sleep

They seem almost too simple but at the same time radical, and maybe thats the point.

For me, this book hit a nerve. Because we are all feeling it, aren’t we? The anxiety. The disconnection. The chronically available. The lonlieness. The intensity of growing up with a curated identity. Imagine (specifically you) your whole childhood up online… the house parties, the less than great ‘ideas’ and choices, even the language that was used that would be a first class ticket to being “cancelled” today. Horror movie, and our kids are living this reality.

This isn’t just a book for researchers or policymakers. It’s a book for all of us. For schools. For parents. For carers. For anyone who’s wondered why this generation feels so heavy, so tired, so done.

The Anxious Generation doesn’t promise quick fixes. But it does ask us to pause. To notice. To question the norm. Oh, and it also references Olivias song ‘Jealousy, Jealousy’. And that feels like a great way to start the conversation.

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Do you have the spoons for that?