But now that we’re well into the TikTok era, the cracks are starting to show. Millennials-and their mannerisms-defined the online ecosystem that has ruled for a decade plus, treating sites such as MySpace, Tumblr, Facebook, and Twitter as the jungle gyms in their internet playground. Unfortunately for me, today’s most culturally influential social platforms are not geared around Millennials anymore, and the pause is far from the only giveaway. Which is why, as short-form video comes to Instagram (Reels), YouTube (Shorts), and Snapchat (Spotlight), the Millennial pause is becoming easier to spot. Gen Zers make up a larger portion of TikTok’s base, and have grown up filming themselves enough to trust that they’re recording correctly. “God! Will she ever stop being relatable,” herself a Millennial, says. Last year, a 28-year-old YouTuber and TikToker who lives in Boston, coined the term in a TikTok about how even Taylor Swift can’t avoid the cringey pause in her videos. Or so I thought.Īpparently, I’m still guilty of the “Millennial pause.” After hitting “Record,” I wait a split second before I start speaking, just to make sure that TikTok is actually recording. I took the plunge only after practicing enough to eliminate any telltale signs that I was a near-30-year-old trying to be cool. I’d press “Record,” mumble into the camera, and hastily hit delete before anyone could see just how awkward I was on video. It took me two years to post my first TikTok. This article was featured in One Story to Read Today, a newsletter in which our editors recommend a single must-read from The Atlantic, Monday through Friday.

Mumble meaning