10 things Gen Z do in relationships that completely horrify boomers today

Watch a Boomer's face when their Gen Z grandchild explains their love life, and you'll witness a fascinating collision of worldviews. It's not just the vocabulary—though hearing about "situationships" and "soft launching" certainly doesn't help. It's the fundamental reimagining of what relationships are for, how they work, and what commitment even means.

To Boomers, who often married their high school sweethearts and figured things out behind closed doors, Gen Z's approach to romance can seem like emotional exhibitionism mixed with corporate contract negotiation. But Gen Z isn't destroying romance—they're rebuilding it for a world where nothing is permanent, everything is public, and mental health isn't just important, it's the main character.

These aren't just quirky trends or youthful rebellion. They represent a generation attempting to create intimacy in an age of infinite options, seeking authenticity while performing on social media, and trying to build lasting connections when everything else in their lives feels temporary.

1. They discuss trauma on the first date

Forget small talk about jobs or hobbies. Gen Z often leads with their mental health history, childhood wounds, and ongoing therapy work. Within the first hour of meeting someone, they might casually mention their attachment style, anxiety diagnosis, or the specific ways their parents' divorce affected their ability to trust.

To Boomers, who were taught that you reveal vulnerabilities slowly, after trust is built, this immediate emotional nudity feels like watching someone undress in public. They processed trauma privately, often not at all. The idea of announcing your damage upfront seems like sabotaging your chances before you've even begun.

But for Gen Z, this radical transparency serves as efficient screening. Why waste months discovering incompatibilities when you can establish emotional alignment immediately? They've grown up understanding that mental health shapes everything, so why pretend otherwise?

2. They treat exclusivity as a formal negotiation

Gen Z doesn't assume anything about relationship status. Being exclusive requires what Boomers would recognize as something closer to a business meeting—explicit discussion of terms, boundaries, and expectations. They might date someone for months before having the "what are we?" conversation, remaining technically single despite acting like a couple.

This horrifies Boomers, who often became exclusive simply by continuing to date someone. After a few dates, you were "going steady"—no PowerPoint presentation required. The idea that you need to formally opt into monogamy, rather than out of it, represents a complete inversion of traditional assumptions.

The complexity goes deeper: Gen Z recognizes multiple stages between single and committed. There's exclusive but not official, official but not public, public but not permanent. Each transition requires negotiation, consent, and often, documentation.

3. They maintain intimate friendships with exes

Gen Z regularly grabs coffee with people they used to sleep with, includes exes in friend groups, and even seeks relationship advice from former partners. They've normalized what Boomers would consider emotional infidelity—maintaining deep connections with people who've seen you naked.

To Boomers, exes belonged in the past, preferably in another state. You might exchange pleasant nods at weddings, but friendship? That was asking for trouble. The boundaries were clear: romantic history contaminated any future friendship.

But Gen Z sees this differently. In their world of fluid boundaries and connection scarcity, why lose someone important just because the romance didn't work? They're practicing what researchers call "relationship cycling"—the ability to transition between relationship types while maintaining connection.

4. They share their location 24/7

Gen Z couples routinely share their real-time location through their phones, allowing partners to track their movements throughout the day. Not occasionally, not during trips—constantly. They can see when their partner arrives at work, leaves for lunch, stops at the gym.

Boomers, who fought for privacy and independence within relationships, find this surveillance state romance deeply disturbing. They spent decades establishing that love didn't mean giving up autonomy. Trust meant not needing to know where someone was every moment.

Yet for Gen Z, location sharing isn't about control—it's about safety and connection. In an uncertain world, knowing where loved ones are feels like care, not surveillance. The transparency that horrifies Boomers comforts Gen Z.

5. They create actual contracts for their relationships

Some Gen Z couples draft literal documents outlining relationship terms—frequency of dates, communication expectations, boundaries around social media, even exit clauses. These aren't prenups for marriage; they're user agreements for dating.

To Boomers, this contractualization of romance strips away everything beautiful about love—spontaneity, mystery, the gradual discovery of another person. Relationships were supposed to be felt, not documented. The heart doesn't operate on terms and conditions.

But Gen Z has watched enough relationships implode from mismatched expectations. They've grown up with consent culture and clear communication as values. Why shouldn't romantic relationships benefit from the same clarity we demand in every other area of life?

6. They announce breakups like press releases

When Gen Z couples split, they often craft joint statements for social media, explaining the breakup, requesting privacy, and affirming mutual respect. These aren't celebrities—they're regular people treating their relationship status like a public relations matter.

Boomers, who might have mentioned their divorce months after it happened, find this performative processing baffling. Breakups were private matters, discussed with close friends over drinks, not broadcast to hundreds of acquaintances.

But for Gen Z, whose relationships often began and developed online, the digital announcement feels necessary. Their relationship existed publicly; its end needs public acknowledgment. The statement prevents speculation, controls the narrative, and provides closure for the audience who witnessed the romance.

7. They openly date multiple people simultaneously

Gen Z has embraced ethical non-monogamy, polyamory, and various forms of consensual multi-dating that would have been called "playing the field" in Boomers' youth—except now it's all above board. Everyone knows about everyone else. There are Google calendars involved.

To Boomers, dating multiple people was something you did secretly before choosing one. The idea of introducing your Tuesday girlfriend to your Thursday boyfriend breaks every rule they learned about romance, commitment, and respect.

Yet Gen Z sees monogamy as a choice, not a default. They're questioning whether one person can or should meet all emotional, intellectual, and physical needs. Their approach might be messier, but it's arguably more honest than the affairs and secret lives of previous generations.

8. They go to couples therapy before problems arise

Gen Z couples often start therapy together within months of dating, not to fix problems but to prevent them. They treat relationship counseling like going to the gym—routine maintenance rather than emergency intervention.

Boomers, who might have seen a counselor once, right before divorce papers, find this preemptive therapy indulgent and defeatist. If you need professional help to date someone, maybe you shouldn't be dating them. Working through issues was what you did together, privately.

But Gen Z has destigmatized therapy to the point where not going seems irresponsible. They see relationship counseling as skill-building, not damage control. Why wait for problems to become entrenched when you can develop healthy patterns from the start?

9. They monetize their relationships

Gen Z couples routinely turn their relationships into content—couple's TikToks, relationship advice podcasts, shared OnlyFans accounts. They document fights, reconciliations, and intimate moments for audiences who follow their love story like a soap opera.

To Boomers, this transformation of intimacy into content feels like the death of privacy, romance, and dignity. Relationships were sacred spaces, protected from public view. The idea of performing your love for strangers, especially for money, seems to corrupt everything genuine about human connection.

Yet for Gen Z, the line between authentic and performed barely exists. They've grown up with cameras everywhere, sharing everything. Monetizing relationships doesn't feel like selling out—it feels like being smart about the attention economy they inherited.

10. They end relationships via collaborative playlist

Instead of dramatic confrontations or slow fades, Gen Z sometimes communicates relationship changes through carefully curated Spotify playlists. The shift from love songs to breakup anthems signals emotional transitions. Some couples maintain shared playlists that become archaeological records of their relationship's rise and fall.

Boomers, who had to look someone in the eye to break up with them, find this musical messaging cowardly and bizarre. Ending a relationship required words, conversations, actual human interaction. You owed someone more than a sad song queue.

But for Gen Z, music has always been a communication medium. The playlist isn't avoiding conversation—it's starting one. It's providing emotional context that words might fail to capture. The songs say what they struggle to articulate.

Final thoughts

The horror Boomers feel watching Gen Z navigate relationships isn't really about the specific behaviors—it's about witnessing the complete dissolution of frameworks they considered natural and necessary. Privacy, exclusivity, linear progression toward marriage—all of it has been deconstructed and rebuilt according to entirely different blueprints.

But perhaps what's most striking isn't how different Gen Z's approach is, but how honestly it reflects their reality. They're trying to create lasting connections in a gig economy. They're seeking authenticity in a performative digital world. They're attempting intimacy when most interaction is mediated by screens.

The transparency that horrifies Boomers might be Gen Z's attempt to counter the fakeness everywhere else. The contracts and negotiations might be their way of creating stability in unstable times. Even the public processing could be seen as seeking community support that extended families once provided.

Each generation creates the relationships that make sense for their world. Boomers' private, progression-oriented partnerships fit a world of stable jobs and clear social scripts. Gen Z's transparent, negotiated, fluid connections reflect a reality where everything is temporary, public, and requiring constant consent. The horror might actually be recognition—not of failure, but of adaptation to a world Boomers are grateful they don't have to date in.