Now, Now, Now: The generation That Wants Everything Fast. But Is It Our Fault?

Living in Dubai means you can get anything from a sandwich to furniture delivered to your door by just snapping your fingers. Fantastic or problematic, that’s a question everyone has an opinion on.

What is certain is that people’s ability to wait has become increasingly minimal, to a point that we’d cancel a cab if we see “wait time 4 minutes.” What do you mean a whole 240 seconds? Ain’t nobody got time for this.

Or don’t we actually?

Everything needs to be fast, fast, fast — and it seems like my Nonna’s motto in life has no place in 2026. She used to tell me chi va piano va sano e va lontano: who goes slowly goes healthily and far. Going slowly feels like the ultimate horror for people these days. We want it fast, well done, and we want it now.

From Love Is Blind and getting married in six weeks, to Ozempic and losing 40kgs in two months, the question is: what are we actually rushing for? Is there some invisible finish line we’re all trying to cross as quickly as possible to unlock a prize?

I’ve had a few conversations with friends who wanted to take time off to reflect, and they all landed on the same conclusion: “We can’t afford to go MIA for even two weeks. Everyone will forget about us.”

While I beg to differ — human beings aren’t Labubus that rise to fame and disappear in less time than it takes to understand their purpose — the essence of what they’re saying isn’t wrong. If you’re not visible, if you’re not making noise, and if you give people a reason to forget about you, they probably will.

I’m not talking childhood best friends. I’m talking professional relationships. That fling you’re speaking to through texts. Your connections on Instagram.

The need for our generation to receive news, content, goods, and food ASAP (and soon better be like, now) has rewired how we relate to time, patience, and even each other. We refresh feeds compulsively. We expect replies instantly. We panic when typing bubbles disappear. We measure relevance in likes and views. Silence feels dangerous. Waiting feels like falling behind.

We’ve built systems that reward immediacy and punish pause- and honestly, it’s exhausting.

Somewhere along the way, we stopped letting things breathe. Careers need to take off overnight, relationships need clarity by week two, healing needs to happen quickly, growth needs to be visible. If there’s no immediate result, we move on. Swipe. Cancel. Replace.

We’re not wired for long arcs anymore. We’re wired for dopamine hits. But maybe what we’re really craving isn’t speed...maybe it’s reassurance. Maybe it’s control? Maybe it’s the comfort of feeling seen in a world that moves too fast to notice anyone who slows down?

Maybe we’re rushing because standing still feels scary. And maybe (probably), my Nonna had a point.

Because going slowly doesn’t mean going nowhere. It means allowing things to unfold. It means building something that lasts. It means choosing depth over urgency. Presence over performance, longevity over instant gratification.

In a world screaming now, now, now, choosing to move at your own pace might be the most radical thing you can do.