Is the Millennial Career Crisis Actually a Women's Issue? Hot Take: It Kind of Is

I can't seem to log on to social media without seeing content about the "millennial career crisis". It stands to reason: The job market is in shambles, everything is wildly expensive, and many of us did all the things we were told to do...only for it not to pay off (literally) in today's conditions.

There are a lot of factors at work here, but here's my hot take: The millennial career crisis is, in many ways, a crisis of millennial women. Because in order to fully dissect what we're working through now, we have to go back in time a bit to fully understand how millennial women and our ideas about career were truly formed.

Many millennial women grew up with advice like "work a job you love and you'll never work a day in your life!". We were taught to prioritize helping others, professional fulfillment, and passion in our careers. People rarely told us to seek out high pay — and that, coupled with this notion that it is "distasteful" for people, especially women, to talk about money, sent us a pretty clear message. Careers shouldn't be about financial prosperity or even stability. They should be about this nebulous sense of purpose and personal identity we ought to derive from our work.

Many of us bought it into that message, and now we're working to pull ourselves out from underneath it. Those industries that rely on women and their passion? They're either woefully underfunded (and underpaid) or just straight up dying (see: The magazine industry). While you can love your work (and I love mine!), the reality is this: It's really hard to love your work work when you hate the conditions under which you are doing it. When you're underpaid, undervalued, and constantly feeling like you're disposable.

Speaking of feeling disposable, here's another piece of the equation: We are indispensable at work, but not at home — and since women are unequivocally carrying more of the domestic weight, we are feeling the burnout of holding both paid and unpaid work. Many of us are questioning whether it's even worth it to be giving so much energy to the same workforce that has routinely failed us. Particularly for millennial women, who tend to be at this phase of life when they're juggle both parenthood and elder care, as they are also reaching that point in their careers when they start to plateau...it's a lot to manage. And so, a career crisis ensues.

This is, of course, a gross oversimplification of a large issue that encompasses many other large issues. But I think it's a piece of the conversation we're not having: Because a career crisis isn't just about a moment in time. It's about a whole generation of women and how we've been conditioned...and what happens when we finally realize how many lies we were told.

Ask Clara:

"What is the millennial career crisis?"

Why Doesn't Anyone Talk About Anticipatory Grief?

For the past six years, I've been living with a bit of a secret...and lot of anticipatory grief. I won't go into the details, because while I believe in talking about the taboo stuff, this is ultimately not my story to tell.

But here's what I can talk about: My own experience with this particular situation. And the reality of my experience is this: I've been grieving someone who is still alive. Someone who I know I will lose in the most ultimate sense of the word, maybe in a matter of weeks or months or years. I have no way of knowing when it'll come; I just know that the sadness is already very much here.

This isn't an uncommon experience. Dementia, ALS, cancer...there are so many conditions that come with a period of anticipatory grief, for both the patient and their loved ones. Yesterday, I interviewed a grief expert for the podcast I co-host, and she said something that kind of blew my mind: Anticipatory grief can be two-fold. It may not just feel like you're anticipating this loss, it also feels like you're grieving a version of that person that is already gone.

Even though I've been living this reality for a while, I hadn't heard it laid out like this, and I think that's because people just don't talk about anticipatory grief — even though so many of us are experiencing it.

Part of it, I guess, is that we live in a world of "it could always be worse". With anticipatory grief, a lot of us probably feel like "well, the person is still technically here", and so we fear that the world will invalidate our feelings. Because, well, "it could be worse". You could be firmly in the non-anticipatory grief stage.

But things don't have the be the worst case scenario in order for them to be hard. Anticipatory grief is real, it's heavy, it is both incredibly sad and deeply uncertain, and it deserves more attention. Because it can feel really isolating, even when you know you aren't the only one feeling it.

Ask Clara:

"What is anticipatory grief?"

The Demonization of Snacks is Here

Years ago, when I was a writer for a major parenting magazine, an article by a colleague of mine made major waves. The gist of the article? It told us that differentiating between a snack and a treat is incredibly important. A snack is something like an apple or a piece of cheese. A cookie or a cupcake or a bowl of ice cream, on the other hand? Those are treats, and we need to make that very, very clear for even very young kids.

And then the pendulum swung, as it so often does. All of a sudden, I couldn’t log on to social media without feeling the finger wags from registered dietitians who told us we need to stop labeling food.

 “Don’t call it a treat!”

”Serve dessert with dinner!”

“If your child is hungry, let them eat! There’s nothing wrong with a snack right before dinner!”

…And now, we’re back. Or at least we seem to be: Over the past few weeks, I am seeing so much content about how snack culture is out of control. How we need to stop allowing our kids to nibble so much between meals. 

This feels like a story about parenting, and it sort of is. But it’s also…sort of not. Because this type of content is indicative of what’s happening in the wellness world — and on social media in general. The demonization of snacks? It’s here, and not just for kids. It feels like this exists at the intersection of parenting advice and diet culture’s current position. And like so much health and nutritional advice, it feels like the target is constantly moving. One day, w’ere told to focus on protein intake above all else. Next, fiber is the thing we’re encouraged to prioritize. And then someone tells us to try intermittent fasting…and someone else tells us it’ll wreck our metabolisms. It’s exhausting.

The demonization of snacks is very much a part of all this. Because it’s not just directed at parents. On social media, influencers frequently tell you “you don’t need a treat; you’re not a dog” or ask you if you want to “eat a snack or be a snack”. Meanwhile, not that long ago, we were told that eating frequent small meals or snacks was actually the ultimate wellness and weight maintenance hack. Now, snacking is being treated like some gluttonous thing we do, like the only snacks we can possibly eat are highly processed and horrible for our health…and like something that only happens due to boredom or lack of discipline, not because we may simply get hungry between meals. 

Listen, do I think we should be eating packaged snacks all day long (or allowing our kids to do so?) No. I don’t. But I also think we need to stop being so extreme about every single thing. Sometimes a kid needs a snack. Sometimes an adult does. Sometimes that snack is an apple, other times it’s a bag of chips. Either way, it’s a part of life, a part of our culture, and something that doesn’t need to be demonized on our feeds.

Ask Clara:

"Is snacking good for you?"

Let's Debrief the 'Sport's Illustrated' Swim Week Runway Show

So my entire TikTok feed is just clips from the Sports Illustrated Swim Week runway show.

I’ve seen the Dancing With the Stars queens turning the runway into a dance floor. I’ve seen Lizzo command the entire room. I’ve seen Ilona Maher bring the best energy to the runway.

There’s just something about the show that feels…I don’t know, infectious? Like every single person on the runway is just feeling herself, embracing her body, and having a fantastic time.

I’ve seen commentary that this runway show included women of all body types. I don’t know if that comment quite hits the mark, but it does point to something important: This particular runway show does showcase a range of body types beyond the typical “Victoria’s Secret model” build we often see on swimsuit runways or in catalogues…and that progress is worth noting, especially as skinny supremacy rears its ugly head back into the culture.

Casting someone like Ilona Maher, for example? She’s a hot, strong, amazingly gorgeous woman, but more importantly she stands for something so important (see this recent TikTok — obsessed, no notes). Including Bethenny Frankel also speaks volumes: Having a 55-year-old model a bikini shows there’s no age limit on sexy, there’s no outfit that’s “off limits” to women of a certain age. And giving Sports Illustrated swimsuit vet Katie Austin a turn on the runway while she’s pregnant also feels like a bold step in a better direction: For so long, we’ve been fed messages that tell us pregnant women should hide their bodies away and sink into invisibility, yet this is a totally different (better!) approach.

I don’t even think it’s about the range of body types or the casting here, though. I think this show and what it means in a larger sense is all about the vibes.

For so long, runway modeling has been all about stripping personality from the models, framing them as blank canvases meant merely to showcase the clothes. And also for so long, swimsuit modeling has been performatively sexy in a very male gaze-y way. But this show took things in a different direction: The models, many of whom are familiar, famous faces, lead with personality. They were obviously encouraged to have fun, to show their playful sides, to be the main characters of the runway, rather than just the things needed to showcase the suits or to cater to male gaze. 

And you know what? I’m into it. Because it sends us a message about what putting on a swimsuit should feel like: It should feel fun and freeing and like an expression of who you are.

Ask Clara:

"What is skinny supremacy?"

Not Everything is Perimenopause

Recently, I was chatting with a few friends about how stressful this particular season of life has been. We’re all moms of multiple kids who are navigating the wild thing that is Maycemeber (iykyk), we all have parents who are aging and need some extra support, we all have busy careers…and we’re all feeling the strain of it all. One admitted that she asks herself every single day if what she’s experiencing is stress or perimenopause, and the rest of us all chimed in to say we do the exact same thing. 

But then, one friend added something. “Don’t you feel like perimenopause is becoming the go-to explanation for everything women are dealing with?”. We all agreed: Perimenopause went from being something we never discussed at all to something we’re chalking everything up to, especially for women aroung my age.

Here’s what is so complicated about all this: I recently interviewed Dr. Noor, a physician who treats many perimenopausal women, and she pointed out that there’s really no test to determine if someone is in perimenopause. She also explained that many women don’t notice that this is what is happening with their bodies: They assume that they’re dealing with the stress of carrying too many responsibilities and chalk up their symptoms (like mood changes, irregular periods, and sleep disturbances, per Mayo Clinic) to stress.

But maybe it works the other way around too: Maybe we collectively are hearing so much about perimenopause, we’re assuming that this is what we’re experiencing even if the reality is that we are tired, overwhelmed, anxious, and stressed out because we have too many responsibilities on our plate. 

This is what is so frustrating about being a woman: Our bodies are so complex, and there’s just so much overlap when it comes to symptoms. Some symptoms appear with multiple conditions, other are just related to lifestyle factors. Either way, it feels pretty much impossible to make sense of what we’re experiencing.

On top of that, there are so many trending topics in the world of women’s health — and I hate chalking any health issue up to a “trend”, but that’s really what this feels like: It feels like one women’s health issue gets its place in the spotlight at a time, and we all wonder if that could be the thing that explains what we’ve been feeling thanks to all this cultural attention it is receiving at any particular moment in time. 

So are you experiencing perimenopause? Am I? Who knows? A chat with your doctor is always a good idea if you feel like things are just…off, but the sad reality is, answers aren’t always promised.

Ask Clara:

"What are the main symptoms of perimenopause?"

Gestational Carriers Deserve a Voice in the Surrogacy Conversation. Actress Becca Tobin Just Handed One a Mic

There’s still so much stigma surrounding surrogacy. There’s also so much mystery surrounding it…and in my opinion, those two things go hand in hand.

In order to show surrogacy for what it is — a well-controlled, mutual agreement that some families need, and others families choose, as a method of family-building — I believe we need more people who can shed light on what it truly looks like.

We don’t often hear gestational carriers' stories about what it is truly like, or what led them to surrogacy in the first place. And especially in the case of celebrities who build their families via surrogacy, there’s this sense that the carriers are almost invisible. Sure, they likely want to protect and preserve their privacy, and of course this is even more important when you’re working with a famous intended parent. But while I completely understand why there’s the invisibility around celebrity gestational carriers, it also feels glaring. Like they’re hidden in the shadows.

That’s why I love what actress Becca Tobin, who is expecting her second baby via gestational carrier, did on an episode of Baby Gang, a series of her mega-successful podcast LadyGang. 

In the episode, Tobin shines the spotlight on Katie, the woman who is carrying her second baby. She withholds Katie’s last name, but she gives Katie her moment — a moment to talk about herself, to describe what this experience is like, and to share her side of what surrogacy truly looks like.

This episode gives us something we almost never get to witness: We get to see what the relationship between a gestational carrier and an intended parent truly looks like. 

That’s not to say that Becca and Katie’s relationship is the same as every other carrier/intended mother’s relationship. Of course, there’s no single way to experience all this, but this particular dynamic is so fascinating to see, or rather hear, as the two women connect over microphones.

It’s also a great listen for people who are interested in becoming gestational carriers themselves. Because sure, you can look at the guidelines, but few resources really dive into what it’s actually like to go through this part of the process, to play this role.

We need more of this type of honest conversation to happen in ways that are accessible to the public. From what it’s like to miscarry in a surrogacy arrangement, to what it feels like for a gestational carrier to explain the situation to their own children, to the wild things people say to women on both ends of the surrogacy equation…there’s a lot to unpack. Kudos to these ladies for doing just that, and taking surrogacy out of the shadows. 

Ask Clara:

"What are the requirements to become a surrogate?"

Yes, Celiac Disease is a Real Thing. Did a Joke About it Go Too Far?

I will preface what I’m about to say with a disclaimer: I understand that sometimes people make jokes. I understand that comedy is about exaggeration. I understand that not everything needs to be taken quite so literally.

But I also understand how delicate health information is…and how quickly misinformation spreads.

I know that, generally speaking, serious health conditions aren’t fair game for comedy fodder. And I get why so many people who have gluten intolerances, or celiac disease — or who love someone who has the condition, or who simply care about combating health stigma or misinformation — are upset right now.

Here's why: Comedian Robby Hoffman recently appeared on Call Her Daddy. During her appearance, host Alex Cooper asked her a series of questions, asking Hoffman to say whether something is “great” or “jail”. 

When Cooper asked how Hoffman would categorize someone who is allergic to gluten, Hoffman said “No, it can’t be done. Is it real?...I got to see. Everybody is celiac.” Hoffman joked (and yes, she cleared up that she was joking) that she would need to see someone blow up a la Will Smith’s character in Hitch in order to believe in the existence of gluten intolerances. 

Okay, let’s unpack this. First things first: celiac disease is real. It is an autoimmune disease, and it can be incredibly serious. According to Cleveland Clinic, when someone who has celiac disease consumes gluten, an immune response is triggered. In time, this can lead to serious complications.

I imagine it’s really frustratingly common for those who have celiac disease to have people questioning whether it’s “real”, or assuming you’re just saying you have the disease so you can avoid gluten, which has become something of a trendy move (often for weight loss or "anti-inflammatory" purposes). Hoffman’s comments are a joke, but for people who have already been made to feel like their conditions are not taken seriously, I imagine they really struck a nerve.

Hoffman calls out the fact that so many people seem to have suddenly developed the condition. But maybe part of that too is the fact that we have social media now: There’s so much more visibility around these conditions. 

Hoffman may not have intended to be insensitive, but people who can’t have gluten are chiming in the comments on the YouTube video to set the record straight. “Happy celiac awareness month y’all. Except for, I guess, the awareness part. I don’t eat gluten because I have an autoimmune disease and like not dying of colon cancer. Not because it’s trendy or cool,” one person writes. 

Another adds: “I wish people would stop perpetuating the idea that celiac disease is a food trend and not a serious autoimmune disease. Sure, your face might not blow up, but your belly might! You might also develop cancer, seizures, infertility, osteoporosis, lose your intestines or a plethora of other issues  Not to mention the social impact of not being able to safely go out to eat with friends or eat at your family's house.”

Those perspectives are important. They’re worth listening to. And yeah, the podcast host and guest here for making a joke. But maybe…just maybe, health issues with such serious repercussions aren’t things we should joke about. Especially not when we’re talking about conditions that are already not taken seriously.

Ask Clara:

"What's the difference between gluten intolerance and celiac disease?"

Pregnancy Baiting is and Always Will be Weird (to Me, at Least)

I was scrolling social media, as one does, when I came across a post from an influencer that made me physically roll my eyes. 

In the post, she begins with a close-up shot on her belly, her hands placed in the shape of a heart over her midsection. The text reads “We have an announcement to make…”.

Obviously, we know what she wants people to think: Everything about this post is textbook pregnancy announcement. But the announcement in question actually has nothing to do with another baby. Instead, the influencer announces that her family is…going to Disney.

Let’s call this what it is: Pregnancy baiting. I know I’m calling out one particular influencer here, but this is a widespread problem. So many social media creators do this, or rather, some version of this. They tease “big news” and liberally use all kinds of hints to suggest a baby may be on the way. Think: “Our family is growing!” or “Our world is about to change!” or “We’re expecting…” before launching into the real reveal. Sometimes, they'll even stretch the baiting out for days or weeks.

Sometimes creators do this before announcing a move, or a new  business launch. Other times, it’s a huge nothing burger (I’m going to go ahead and file a Disney trip in the latter category).

Either way, it’s weird to me. Not just because of the clickbait of it all, though that’s a real thing too. But more than that, it just feels so insensitive. Kind of like the whole “pregnancy is not an April Fool’s joke” thing, which we’ve talked about before over here. Pregnancy isn’t something to joke about…it’s also not a tool that should be used to drum up excitement or engagement.

Sorry not sorry, but my take is and always will be that this is tacky, insensitive, and weird. Pregnancy is such a touchy, painful subject for so many people…and we’ve got to stop wielding it around so carelessly.

Ask Clara:

"What's a pregnancy prank?"

Is Middle Age The Moment When You Become Okay With Being a Beginner Again?

On Mother’s Day this year, my husband did something I never thought anyone would do for me: He hit up our go-to sporting goods store (a place I've become very familiar with as a mom of two kids who play sports). Only this time, instead of grabbing a last minute pair of cleats for our kids, he got something for me, a woman who doesn’t have a sporty bone in her whole body. What was in the bag, you ask?  A few new tennis outfits.

For the past year or so, I’ve been thinking of starting tennis lessons. I’ve never played a racket sport in my life, and if my general sense of hand/eye coordination gives us any hints, I won’t be good. Like, at all. Yet I’m intrigued by the possibility of starting totally fresh at something for the first time in so long.

I am dragging my feet big time, and my husband got me the tennis gear as an encouraging push. Yet I’m not signing up for lessons, because ultimately, I still feel uncomfortable with the idea of being outside of my wheelhouse. At the same time, being a true beginner? It seems kind of liberating…and a little bit thrilling.

Many of my friends, especially the ones that are a little bit older than I am, are also dabbling in hobbies, and approaching them as complete beginners. One friend is taking piano lessons for the first time, the other is doing ballet. And all around me, so many women around my age are taking up mahjong.

So what’s going on here? I think it says a lot about how we’re approaching middle-age, what we are craving at this phase in life. I think this especially true of women who are high-achieving and generally really good at everything they do. 

As women, hyper-competence is demanded of us. It feels good to do something, not necessarily for the sake of being good or being successful, but just to do something new. To feel the thrill many of us haven't experienced since our own childhoods: The thrill of being a total, complete beginner again.

Picking up a new hobby — whether it’s an instrument or a sport or a domestic project like gardening or bread-baking — allows us to tap into a different piece of who we are. In new hobbies, we find permission to be imperfect. To learn instead of teach. To let someone else lead the way and run the show. And isn’t that so much of what we crave as women, especially women who reach the point in life when they are running the show in their homes and their careers? 

At the same time, a lifetime of conditioning, of being told we have to be so capable and competent all the time, is nearly impossible to overcome. But I think there’s beauty on the other side of that…and I’m not quite ready to be a total beginner again, but I want to get there. And one day, I think I will. 

Ask Clara:

"Whar are the benefits of trying new hobbies?"

I'm Back to Add Necessary Nuance to the Hilary Duff 'Stronger Not Smaller" Discourse

So Hilary Duff did a campaign centered around being “stronger not smaller”, and I found myself cheering when I saw it. I stand by what I said initially: This is a powerful statement at this particular moment in time. We’re receiving so many messages about how women should look, that we should constantly strive to make our bodies as small and dainty as possible in the name of beauty and “femininity”. 

But I’ll own it: I don’t think my first take on this particular campaign included all the necessary nuance. And thanks to other women on the internet who are digging into this, my perspective on the campaign has shifted a bit. And honestly? As a woman who has only ever existed in a straight-sized body without any real effort, I think I approached this from my own privileged lens...and I want to do better.

I’ll start by saying this: I love Hilary Duff and don’t tolerate any slander. But let’s be real here: She is wildly privileged — thin, wealthy, young, white, and IMO, one of the most conventionally beautiful women out there. It’s not brave or revolutionary for someone like Duff to be centered in a fitness campaign, and the images from the campaign do clearly feel more aspirational than raw, real, relatable, courageous, etc. 

People are pointing out that the campaign should have showed the actress in the actual strength-training mode: Struggling to lift heavy weights, gritting her teeth, working up a sweat, as opposed to posing beautifully in a sleek matching set. This is totally valid criticism, IMO.

Dietician Sam Previte offers up a spot-on take on the nuance of it all: “Let talk about why this isn’t as big of a win as people are saying it is,” she says before tackling some of the positives of the campaign. “Sure, she has more muscle or definition than some of the actors and actresses who look emaciated…[but] if you find yourself comparing yourself to Hilary Duff’s body and still saying ‘I wish I looked like that’, then did it really accomplish the goal of having you focus on strength vs. shrinking yourself?”, she adds. 

Here’s the important context: Many of us remember growing up in a time when Duff was considered “big”. When people openly made comments like “she has such a pretty face, it’s a shame she’s not more slender” (yes, really). And as we slide back into so many of the old attitudes about weight and body and diet, I fear we’re heading back to a palace where a thin, straight-sized, conventionally hot woman like Duff is considered less than ideal (as the body type in vogue is increasingly becoming one that looks downright waifish). In light of that, a celebration of strength and fitness rather than just thin-ness feels necessary. 

But you know what else is necessary? An honest conversation about how even ads like this still leave so many people out.

Ask Clara:

"What is thin privilege?"