The Value of Being Forgotten: Gen X Women Rewriting History on Their Own Terms

Picture it: 1987.

Your parents are at work, your siblings are scattered across town, and you’re standing in the kitchen staring a Swansons Meatloaf TV dinner in that ol tray like it’s your destiny. The microwave hums as you warm it up. MTV is blaring in the living room, your homework is half-done, and nobody is asking if you need help with fractions or feelings.

Welcome to the Gen X childhood—survival of the fittest edition.

We weren’t coddled. We weren’t fussed over. And we sure weren’t photographed every time we sneezed. (Half of us don’t even have baby pictures. Just one random Polaroid at age nine, standing awkwardly in front of a wood-paneled wall.)

And yet… here we are. Strong. Capable. Independent. Sometimes sarcastic to a fault. And still, somehow, branded as the “forgotten generation.”

The middle child of history. The VHS tape sandwiched between vinyl and streaming. The ones who made it work without needing an audience. But maybe—just maybe—there’s a hidden value in being forgotten.

Let’s call it what it is: Gen X is the duct tape of generations.

We may not sparkle like Millennials or boom like Boomers, but honey, without us? The whole system falls apart. We grew up in the cracks, and cracks are where the light—and the grit—get in. We learned to cook for ourselves before we could legally ride in the front seat.We knew the exact sound of dial-up internet and could still hum it today.We raised ourselves, our siblings, and sometimes even our parents.We were the test audience for Lunchables, Kool-Aid, and every questionable “fat-free” snack the ’90s threw at us.

Being forgotten taught us to improvise. To adapt. To thrive without a cheer squad. And that’s why today’s Gen X women—the TGL women—are the strongest, funniest, most quietly powerful people in any room. So what does being “forgotten” really mean in practice? Let’s break it down with a wink:

Independence. We were the latchkey kids, baby. Keys on shoelace chains around our necks. We’d come home, drop our bookbags, and immediately turn on DuckTales. Dinner? Whatever we could find that didn’t involve raw chicken. While other kids got piano lessons and organic snacks, we got, “Call me at work if the house burns down.”

And guess what? We turned out fine. Better than fine—we turned out scrappy.

Adaptability. Our lives are one long game of “Now what?”

We grew up with record players. Then cassettes. Then CDs. Then Napster. Then Spotify.We had rotary phones. Then cordless phones. Then flip phones. Then iPhones.We learned to type on typewriters, only to graduate into Windows 95. And we didn’t just keep up—we thrived. We are the ultimate adapters. Put a Gen X woman in any situation, and she’ll figure it out before anyone else finds the Wi-Fi password.

Quiet Strength. While Boomers lecture and Millennials document, we just… get it done.

We can pack a lunch, handle a Zoom call, unclog a drain, and keep up with our cardio—all before noon. And yes, we’ll laugh about it while doing it. We don’t need standing ovations. We don’t even need hashtags. Our power comes from consistency.

Cultural Translators. Gen Z doesn’t get answering machines. Boomers don’t get TikTok. Who explains both? We do. We’re fluent in analog and digital, sarcasm and sincerity. We can decode emoji and IRS forms. We’re the ones everyone calls when they need context.

And secretly? We love it. Because we know how valuable it is to be the bridge.

To really appreciate being forgotten, let’s take a little joyride down memory lane:

Saturday mornings: Cartoons in your pajamas, a bowl of cereal with enough sugar to fuel a rocket, and no parents in sight until noon.

Blockbuster nights: Be kind, rewind—or get a fee that could feed a family of four.

School survival: Passing notes folded into origami-level triangles. Hoping the teacher didn’t intercept.

Pop culture: Columbia House scamming us into 12 CDs for a penny. Mixtapes made with love, patience, and the pause button.

Fashion: Hypercolor shirts, crimped hair, and enough Aqua Net to poke a hole in the ozone.

We weren’t curated. We weren’t filtered. We were raised on trial and error, and it shows—in the best way.

So what do we do with all this? We don’t whine about being forgotten. We laugh about it. We own it. We turn it into a story that connects us. Lines every TGL woman can keep in her pocket:

To your Millennial coworker: “You’re upset because the oat milk ran out? We drank Tang and survived.”

To your Gen Z niece: “Sweetheart, you think your Wi-Fi went out? I waited three weeks for film to develop just to find out my thumb was in every shot.”

To your Boomer mom: “Yes, Mom, I am contributing to Social Security. You’re welcome.”

Our humor isn’t just funny—it’s connective tissue. It reminds people we’ve been here all along, and we’re still the ones holding it together. Here’s the truth bomb: being forgotten isn’t a wound—it’s freedom. While everyone else was scrambling for approval, we were learning to live without it. That gave us the power to reinvent ourselves endlessly.

Today, Gen X women are:

Launching businesses at 50.Traveling solo with chic carry-ons and no apologies.Wearing hoop earrings and red lipstick like it’s a personal manifesto.Rediscovering our sexuality, style, and swagger—on our terms.

We’re not trying to look 25. We’re rewriting what 45, 50, and 55 look like. And spoiler: it looks amazing. So yes, we’re the forgotten generation. The middle children. The VHS tapes nobody bothered to rewind. But let’s get one thing straight: forgotten doesn’t mean invisible. Forgotten means underestimated. And underestimated is the best place to be—because while they’re busy overlooking us, we’re out here running the show.

We’re stylish, sarcastic, resourceful, and resilient. We’re the duct tape and the glitter, the mixtape and the Spotify playlist. We are proof that sometimes, being forgotten is exactly what makes you unforgettable. So, ladies, let’s raise a glass (probably of wine, maybe of Diet Coke, always with ice) to our quiet strength, our loud laughter, and our refusal to be sidelined.

Because The GlamMa Life—scratch that, The Gen X Woman Life—was never about being noticed. It was about being real. And that? That’s unforgettable.

Friend to Friend

Sis, tell me I’m not the only one.

• Have you ever felt like being the “forgotten generation” meant you had to prove yourself twice as hard?

• Ever laughed about it on the outside while quietly wishing somebody would just say, “I see you”?

• Ever carried the weight for everyone else, only to realize nobody even noticed you were tired too?

Because listen — we’ve all worn the badge of invisible strength. But sometimes, I just want someone to look me in the eye and say, “You don’t have to hold it all together today. I’ve got you.”

The TGL Stance

The GlamMa Life (and yes, The Gen X Woman Life) is not about pretending that being forgotten doesn’t sting sometimes. TGL is about honesty. About balance. About saying out loud that invisibility has a cost.

It’s about creating space for us—women who’ve been overlooked—to be seen, to laugh, to rest, and to remember we are more than duct tape and grit. We are not middle-child footnotes in history. We are stylish. We are funny. We are opinionated. We are powerful. We are human.

Challenge

If you’ve ever felt like the “forgotten one”: share your story. Drop it in the comments with #TGLForgottenNoMore.

If you love a Gen X woman: stop assuming she’s fine just because she’s capable. Stop saying, “She’s got this.” Start saying, “How can I help?” Or better yet—don’t ask. Just show up.

Let’s shift the culture. Forgotten should not mean overlooked. Forgotten should not mean alone. Forgotten should mean underestimated—until we remind the world we were unforgettable all along.