The Canadian Press has been speaking with young people across the country about being part of the unhappiest generation — and the financial and emotional pressures they face in a world in crisis.
‘WE HAVE TO FIGURE IT OUT ON OUR OWN’
Growing up, Nicholas Schorn was told to follow their dreams. The 32-year old writer also imagined owning a home, having a secure job and taking vacations.
The promise was that if you “keep working, keep contributing to the economy, keep buying, keep climbing the ladder and then one day you’ll arrive at this oasis,” says Schorn.
Today, it looks more like a mirage in a desert of rising costs, social and economic concerns, fractured politics, climate change and a generally bleak outlook.
Schorn, who uses they/them pronouns, was encouraged to study engineering at university. But after graduating, they wanted to follow their passion.
“I’m still here following my dreams,” says Schorn, who works at a bustling café in Vancouver in addition to working as a writer. “It’s hard and it’s also fulfilling. So the feelings are many.”
Schorn says there used to be a sense of a safety net for artists. But today, they’re not surprised to see repeated funding cuts for the arts.
“I’ve now grown to like, accept that that’s the way it is. We have to figure it out on our own.”
Shorn says solace can be found with friends, family and in community spaces like a local coffee shop.
Schorn also volunteers as a mover helping women fleeing abusive relationships, describing it as “soul-nourishing.”
TRYING TO UNPLUG, LOG OFF
Running her own business, Kathryn LeBlanc says she lives a happy, comfortable life in Winnipeg. But like many in her generation, she finds it hard to unplug.
The CEO of a communications firm specializing in social advocacy feels like she’s expected to be online all the time for work, staying up-to-date on the causes that affect her clients, including housing affordability, violence toward the LGTBQ+ community and the climate crisis.
“I have had to learn and navigate expectations and boundaries related to how reachable you are and at what hours and being able to log off.”
LeBlanc, 31, says the flexibility of remote work is important for her well-being.
But keeping her work and personal lives separate can be challenging, when they largely take place under the same roof — and on the same devices, she says.
“Say you live in a small apartment and you’re getting work done on the couch and then later you’re watching a movie on the couch and then a work thought pops into your mind,” she says.
“We don’t live in a decade where you have to go all the way back — physically back to the office — to get something done. You can open up an email on your phone on the couch.”
Remote work can be healthy and productive, she says, “but if you don’t navigate with boundaries, everything is very blurry.”
LeBlanc considers herself happy but is also concerned about the state of the world.
“I have seen the research on how hope is just the most important motivating thing that we have to motivate ourselves and to motivate our communities for systems (to) change and to also help win over decision-makers,” she says.
“It’s an area where I actively have to practise what I preach. I actively work toward being hopeful.”
‘SURROUNDING MYSELF WITH POSITIVE PEOPLE’
Joshua Bujold, a psychology student in his first semester at Montreal’s Dawson College, sees himself as a happy person.
“I like to surround myself with positive people, and I think surrounding myself with positive people is something that makes me really happy, too,” says the 17-year-old.
“When you have a good support system, like when have good people to turn to and people you trust, that also makes you a really happy person.”
He says he cares about helping people and can see himself working one day as a youth counsellor.
He was surprised to learn about the declining happiness among young people in Canada, although the 2024 Canadian Happiness Report says the slide is less notable in Quebec.
Social media has definitely driven dissatisfaction among his generation, Bujold says.
“People are very inclined to take out their phone, take a picture, post it, talk about their beautiful lavish life, when in reality life isn’t perfect.”
Like others in his generation, he says, he’s addicted to his phone and that it very much decreases his quality of life. But when there’s a moment he really needs to enjoy, he tries to make sure he’s present.
He takes the train into Montreal each morning from Sainte-Thérèse, about an hour north, to get to classes.
“We have a very close-knit community and culture all together that we all share,” he says about his hometown.
Bujold says pride and happiness have a lot in common.
“People here are proud to live here, they’re proud to be here, they’re proud of what Quebec has become.”
LEAVING CANADA’S HIGH COST OF LIVING
Before last year, Osobe Waberi didn’t have a passport or any plans to leave Canada. Everything the 28-year-old wanted or belonged to was in her hometown of Toronto.
But the rent of her downtown apartment rent went up unexpectedly — outpacing the income from her full-time job.
It hit her that things were not going to get better, she says.
She quit her job in 2024 hoping to get out of the “vicious cycle” of holding onto her job for her apartment, but also holding on to the apartment because it was close to her office.
Waberi describes herself as a homebody, preferring to stay home with her cat and a book. But even the pleasure of reading was jeopardized.
“I had to cut my book budget and it hurt.”
Waberi says her dream was to have her own business, but she found it almost impossible to chase passion projects and keep up with the climbing cost of living.
She decided to follow her passion — by moving to the Middle East. She settled in Oman and founded a public relations firm catering to Canadian clients.
Her cost of living has dropped astronomically, she says, and she’s been able to save much more. She hopes to move back to Toronto when she’s saved enough but is also finding a reprieve with a slower-paced life in Oman.
“I have more downtime to cook for myself. I have my downtime to make sure that I’m OK. It doesn’t feel rushed,” she says. “If I look out of my window, there are goats.”
This report by The Canadian Press was first published Dec. 17, 2025.
— By Brenna Owen in Vancouver, Cassidy McMackon in Toronto, Miriam Lafontaine in Montreal and Ritka Dubey in Toronto
The Canadian Press
