As a Gen X, middle-aged working mom of two, my kids dominate every waking moment outside of work—and sometimes during office hours too. I value my wellness—mental, physical, and spatial—but squeezing it in is a logistical feat. Getting to the gym is nearly impossible when my kids are “in season,” which, honestly, feels like every season these days. Luckily, our office complex has a covered walkway, so rain or shine, I know exactly how many laps of my 1,500-step loop I need to hit my 10,000 steps a day. Walking that loop, I’m not just moving; I’m multitasking in classic Gen X fashion: getting sunlight, catching up on my favorite podcast, solving a work problem, and snagging a moment of sanity when work starts to feel like the bane of my existence.
Maybe that’s why workplace wellness looks different through a Gen X lens. We grew up in a completely different world from today’s workforce.
I’m from the generation that grew up without smartphones, gaming consoles, or constant parental oversight. After school or on summer mornings, we’d throw on our shoes (maybe sunscreen—probably not—hydration came from the garden hose, not a $50 Stanley) and fly out the door. Rain or shine, we were outside—dirty, smelly, and happy. The neighborhood moms knew we were running wild, but if we made it home for dinner, nobody worried. At the community pool, lifeguards watched over us, but otherwise we were left to our own devices, never feeling monitored or tracked.
I think that’s why today’s swipe-in, swipe-out workplace culture can feel so jarring for Gen X. We know the work needs to get done. Trust us to do it. We grew up figuring things out on our own, and that independence carried into our careers. We’re a resilient generation, and for many of us, wellness starts with autonomy.
Contrast that with Gen Z—kids who grew up with Snapchat, Life360, and a dozen other apps that let friends, family, and total strangers track their every move. To them, being tracked doesn’t feel like surveillance; it’s just normal. We’ll be at the beach, miles from home, and one of my kids will mention that a friend is nearby for the weekend. I’ll ask if they talked to them (silly me—nobody calls anymore), but before I can finish the sentence, they’re already showing me their location on Snap Map.
That comfort with constant connection often carries into the workplace. While Gen X fought for flexibility and remote work, many Gen Z employees are looking for opportunities to connect, collaborate, and learn from others. They’re seeking community, mentorship, and spaces that bring people together. For them, wellness is often tied to belonging.
Then there’s my dad, a classic Boomer. Had he not taken a sweet buyout, he’d probably still be working today in a corner office filled with oversized mahogany furniture and enough awards to cover every wall. He’s been with the same company for as long as I can remember.
His office had a gym, a shower, and a racquetball court, so he’d pack his duffel bag every night, leave before sunrise, get his workout in, and head straight to work. But nobody called it workplace wellness. For his generation, wellness wasn’t a meditation room, mindfulness app, or wellness challenge. It was stability. It was respect. It was having a career, a pension, and a place in the organizational hierarchy.
And while I’m firmly rooted in Generation X, I’m close enough to Millennial territory to remember what the first dot-com-era workplaces looked and felt like. The office was the place to be—amenity-rich, energetic, and designed to keep employees engaged around the clock. There were margarita machines, ping pong tables, and the dawn of the open office. For many of us, the workplace became a one-stop shop where we worked, ate, exercised, socialized, picked up dry cleaning, and occasionally remembered to go home. Burnout was real, but loyalty wasn’t. Jumping to the next best thing wasn’t just possible, it was expected. We weren’t always moving for the work itself; we were chasing amenities, opportunities, and the next exciting company culture. The work never really stopped, and neither did we.
Which brings me to today’s workplace wellness conversation.
Can we have an honest discussion about it? Because somewhere between the corporate yoga mats, “Mindfulness Mondays,” and the ever-expanding amenity list, I think we lost the plot. Wellness became less about how people feel and more about checking a box. It became another category on a project checklist or another feature highlighted during an office tour. A wellness room here, a meditation pod there, a sad little plant in the corner, and suddenly leadership thinks they’ve solved employee well-being.
But have they?
The reality is that every generation defines wellness differently. Boomers want respect and purpose. Gen X wants to stop feeling burned out—and stop pretending we’re not. Millennials want flexibility and work-life balance. Gen Z wants connection, collaboration, and spaces that support both their physical and mental well-being.
Yet many organizations continue to approach wellness as a one-size-fits-all solution.
That’s why so many workplace wellness initiatives miss the mark.
Gen X, in particular, reports some of the highest levels of workplace stress. Nearly 70% of us report moderate to extreme stress, yet only a fraction believes workplace wellness programs help. That gap isn’t just a programming problem—it’s a workplace design problem.
As designers and workplace strategists, we have an opportunity to think differently. Real wellness isn’t another amenity. It’s creating environments that support how people work and live. It’s access to daylight and movement. It’s spaces that allow employees to focus when they need to focus and collaborate when they need to collaborate. It provides choice, autonomy, and trust.
For Gen X, wellness often looks a lot less like a meditation pod and a lot more like the freedom to take a walking lap around the building, clear our heads, and come back ready to solve the next problem.
If organizations want wellness initiatives to matter, they need to stop asking, “What amenities should we add?” and start asking, “What do our people actually need?”