Every generation grows up in a world shaped by its own storms, but Gen Z in particular has been called both the worst and the best era, a label that reveals more about society’s confusion than about the generation itself. They inherited a planet full of contradictions: global disputes happening everywhere from dinner tables to the United Nations, yet also a growing awareness of justice, identity, and the importance of acknowledging emotional truth. Many older generations consider Gen Z difficult because they refuse to ignore wrongdoing or pretend not to see what is broken. The same behaviours that are labelled as “sensitive” or “dramatic” are, in reality, attempts to correct the emotional numbness and cold detachment inherited from decades of suppressed feelings.
So when Gen Z began pushing back against digital habits that everyone accepted without question, many rolled their eyes. One example is the resurgence of long-form blogging among teenagers and young adults, something that seems almost rebellious in a world dominated by 7-second clips and attention-grabbing sounds. For most of human history, people documented their lives through journaling, letters, and long reflections. Somewhere along the way, the rise of short-form video made writing feel unnecessary, even outdated. Social media accelerated everything: thoughts became captions, emotions became emojis, and stories became trends.
At first, those quick video clips felt like an advantage. They offered convenience, instant entertainment, and a sense of belonging. But behind that shiny surface, they were doing something subtle to us. They were chipping away at our ability to sit with our thoughts, to form sentences before expressing them, to process feelings rather than distract from them. Human brains that were trained for thousands of years to think through writing and storytelling were suddenly asked to scroll instead. It wasn’t an official medical condition, but it created a very real mental shift: our minds started preferring watching over reflecting, consuming over creating, reacting over understanding.
Gen Z noticed this change earlier than most. They felt the mental fog, the shortened attention span, the constant overstimulation. Many of them hit a point where the endless scrolling stopped feeling fun and started feeling like a trap. And when they began researching, talking, and questioning, the solution they kept returning to was surprisingly simple: write again. Start journaling, even if only for ten minutes. Put thoughts into words, not trends. Reclaim the brain’s ability to pause.
What began as a personal coping method slowly turned into a cultural shift. Thousands of young people started sharing their writing online were not in polished, aesthetic snippets, but in long paragraphs, messy emotions, and unfiltered narration. They posted reflections, life stories, essays, and internal monologues. Some wrote about loneliness, others about dreams, and some simply documented their day. Long-form blogging, once considered outdated, began rising again like an old friend returning at the exact right time.
This shift did something unexpected: it made people read again. Not because they had to for school or work, but because they wanted to understand someone else’s mind and story. Reading became a way of slowing down. It created an atmosphere where real connection, beyond likes and quick reactions, could form. People began commenting not just “same” or
“LOL,” but giving advice, sharing similar experiences, and offering long responses. They were speaking to the person behind the words, not the persona behind a video. Slowly, communities built around shared values rather than shared trends began to form.
So why exactly did Gen Z resurrect blogging in an era designed to eliminate it?
First, they wanted to step out of an algorithm-driven system that dictated what to feel, watch, and mimic. Short-form video platforms are loud, crowded, and ad-filled; they constantly push content that stimulates but rarely satisfies. Gen Z, ironically, the generation accused of having no attention span, grew tired of it. They craved a clean, quiet space online, something ad-free, pressure-less, where writing didn’t have to fit an aesthetic. Blogs provided that escape. Writing became a form of grounding, a place where thoughts could breathe instead of being squeezed into a trend template.
Second, long-form blogging offered something social media lacks: rawness. Blog posts don’t need filters, transitions, lighting, or background music. They don’t need to be viral. They don’t require a performance. Instead, they allow opinions, emotions, and imperfections to sit plainly on the page. This feels almost revolutionary today. In a world where content is monetised at every corner, authenticity is rare, and Gen Z is determined to protect it.
Third, the revival of blogging helped people in practical ways, too. Freelancers, writers, and creators found that a blog gave them ownership over their work instead of feeding it to platforms that can delete, limit, or bury it. A personal blog became a digital home, somewhere stable in a constantly shifting online world. It worked like a portfolio, journal, and community hub all in one. And because it was built through words rather than aesthetics, it felt more honest and more human.
The change in the algorithm
The profound change was intercepted by many big companies. Google started a project named " think with Google" and produced stats that showed how 59 % of Gen Z joined the program, and we're interested in watching long, detailed and more in-depth content, and out of that 59%, 34 % of the population was interested in reading long-form blogs.
Tumblr, the platform for blogs, rose again with people posting blogs and gained popularity among Gen Zs. The new era of Tumblr rose to heights with people wanting to share their thoughts and opinions on general topics.
Medium, the platform of blogging, also gained large recognition for its blogs that helped people earn income from their thoughts and opinions. It was a great opportunity for freelancers and writers to pursue blogging as a career again.
These articles and blogs were not only written but also read by 56% of the population, which proved that simply posting your long-form opinion wasn't the deal; the fact that it was being considered by an amount and was being replied to through their articles was simply astonishing.
Many people, like Jackie Mendoza, got famous through their writings, and people are still doing so.
Finally, People were heard, and that was the biggest achievement that led blogging to become popular again.
Long-form blogging reminded people of something they didn’t realise they had lost. Writing can be healing. It forces a person to confront their thoughts, shape them, and release them. For many readers, seeing others write so openly encouraged them to process their own emotions. Suddenly, the internet, once known for chaos, became a place where people from all generations found comfort. Older readers were drawn in, surprised that the younger generation had revived a habit they themselves had abandoned decades ago. Younger readers felt seen, supported, and understood.
So yes, the rise of blogging began with Gen Z pouring their thoughts out in long paragraphs on quiet corners of the internet. But it grew into something bigger: a digital refuge. A movement that helped people think again, read again, and connect again. In a world obsessed with speed, Gen Z chose depth. And in doing so, they brought back an old practice that might just heal more than anyone expected.