At age 15, my dad told his parents he was sleeping at a friend’s house for a weekend. Unbeknownst to my grandparents, he was actually hitching a ride to Bethel, New York in hopes of seeing a few of his favorite rock and roll artists perform live. And little did he know, he’d soon be a part of one of the most monumental counterculture events of all time, The Woodstock Music and Arts Festival of 1969. He would also later have the rainbow bandana smacked off his head upon his arrival back home.

At 15 years old, you would find me either at volleyball practice, writing an essay, or scrolling through Facebook on my iPhone 4. I’d occasionally get a scolding for having an untidy bedroom.

When my mom turned 17 and braced for her approaching high school graduation, she knew college was not for her. Her conservative Texan parents were preparing to move south to live on my grandad’s cattle ranch, and she had two options: live on the ranch, or get out. Five days after getting her diploma, she opted for a one-way ticket to Hawaii.

When I was 17, I was planning events for my school’s National Honor Society, posting on Instagram, and regularly having mental breakdowns thanks to a grueling college application process.

When I hear the stories of my adventurous, rebellious parents, I often marvel at the fact that I am their child. And while my parents always encouraged me to work my hardest, they never bred me to be the academic-, literature-, checklist-obsessed person that I am. My mother was strict, but only about eating my vegetables, watching TV in the morning for no longer than one hour,—and limited to the channels picked up by rabbit ears—and going to bed on time.

They cheered me on at every high school sporting event, but never once tried to convince me to join a team. They praised my academic performance and helped me apply to universities, but always reminded me, “you know, college isn’t for everyone.”

And yet while we are so different, my parents and I have what I see to be a healthy, understanding relationship. In fact, we happen to be in agreement on most political and social issues, and especially our shared taste in music. (Although I suspect this may have been intentional on their part, as the only CDs I had access to as a child were Fleetwood Mac, John Mellencamp and their ilk.)

When it comes to technology however, specifically social media, it’s a whole different story. We just don’t...click.

We Millennials were raised in the rapidly evolving “age of information.” We went from taking awkward-angled selfies on our mom’s Kodak digital cameras to now flipping to forward-facing cameras on our smartphones (still our mom’s—she pays for it). Our friends know what we’re doing and where we are at all times, schoolwork is literally impossible without access to a computer and WiFi, and the nightly news is brought to us at all times of the day via alerts on our Apple Watches.

And to think my Baby Boomer parents were raised at a time when having access to a color TV was something like “the bee’s knees.”

Professionally, my dad, a custom home builder, has always been able to seal a deal with a few words and a handshake. I, however, worry about keeping my resume and LinkedIn updated in hopes that somehow I can convince an employer to offer me an unpaid internship.

My mother opened a natural health foods store at age 19, meanwhile I have no idea how to balance a checkbook (if those even still exist), file my taxes, or flip a quesadilla without all the cheese falling out.

My parents got together at a Fleetwood Mac concert and they’ve now been together for 30 plus years. Meanwhile, I worry about posting a flattering selfie that my crush will “like,” and frequently contemplate whether or not to compromise my old-school outlook on romance and just make a damn Tinder account already.

To this, my parents would first respond with, “What the hell is a Tinder?” And once I explained, they’d probably say, “That’s tacky.”

And when I take a step back (or put down my phone, rather) I can see they’re not entirely wrong. It makes me wonder, does social media really help, or does it hinder?

Sometimes I really don’t understand why I “check-in” at Whole Foods simply because I’m there to eat lunch, or why I stress over finding good lighting to get a new profile picture. I also wonder why, with all this technology at my fingertips, I don’t already own a chain of health food stores myself if my mom was able to open one—which is still in business, I might add—as a teenager with no modern technology.

Now I realize this is a very personal and specific example I’m presenting, but I feel it could apply to many other Millennials like me. It’s a common notion that without a college degree and a social media presence, we won’t have success with our careers or our social lives. Yet my parents, and maybe yours, have achieved success in both areas with less education and little/no social media presence.

The difference, I suppose, is that we’re now in a different climate, both economically and socially. Millennials have grown up in the post-9/11 era, fearful of terrorism, hearing of our nation’s distant wars in faraway countries, and in a world that is oriented around digitalization and economic expansion. We’re also arguably the most sheltered generation.

The parents who’ve sheltered us, whether they are Baby Boomers or Generation Xers, grew up in a post-world war era, during the emergence of radical ideas like Civil Rights and the sexual revolution, but challenged by the paranoia of the Cold War and the strictures of the 70’s energy crisis. They grew up during a time where electronics, which are now seen as archaic, were innovative to the point of being revolutionary. They grew up when a handshake actually meant something.

But we are in the age of self-promotion, and there’s really no way out. More than ever, a young person is forced to prove what makes them stand out among the rest. Unlike many of our parents, we’re reliant on them for support at a time where many of them were running for the hills to get away from grandma and grandad. And while our parents may understand having to self-promote for career-seeking purposes, that self-promotion has trickled into our personal lives via social media, and that is something most older generations do not understand, and something our generation may never fully understand either.

How many times do you stop while writing an essay to look through your social media feed(s)? How many times a day do you go on Facebook during work not because you don’t have work to do, but rather because you feel like you can put it off for just a little longer.

We are the first generation to grow up in the age of social networking, but perhaps we’re not the generation that will know how to use it responsibly. We’re the guinea pigs.

We can look at this phenomena from a historical perspective. During the 1960 election season, John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon were the first presidential candidates to participate in a televised debate. My parents remember this night clearly. Americans who watched the debate on television looked from the handsome JFK over to a profusely sweaty Nixon and their winner was clear. Radio listeners, however, overwhelmingly agreed that Nixon had won. That pivotal moment defines what we now see to be a person’s most important attribute: their image.

It isn’t fair to say our parents had it easier, because they surely did not. In fact, older generations had to put in some real elbow grease if they wanted success, at least success in a financial capacity. And this is not to say that we don’t have to put in the same (or more) effort now, because we do, especially because being financially stable is more difficult in our time. But is it possible that perhaps, young, career-seeking adults would be more productive without the distractions of technology?

This isn’t an argument to destroy the technology we have or halt future advancement because A) it’s not realistic, and B) I enjoy the shallow fulfillment of posting on Instagram. But I do wonder what it would be like if we weren’t constantly stimulated by Apple News alerts, Snapchats from our friends, or our phone waking us up with notifications when we’re trying to get a rare 8 hour night’s sleep.

So now I’m thinking, maybe I should be showing up at an employer and shaking their hand, rather than sending an online application alongside a million others. Maybe you should actually turn off your phone, not just lock it and pretend like you can resist looking at the meme your friend just tagged you in.

Sure, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, but in terms of technology, Millennials have surely landed the farthest from their Baby Boomer parents (and closer to a different Apple, if you know what I mean). I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to take it back to the roots.