In fact, it’s how millions of people meet these days, especially busy single parents, college students, young professionals, and even those looking for love later in life. But the study, which surveyed over 6,600 people from 50 different countries, found that on average, couples who met online reported lower levels of intimacy, passion, commitment, and overall relationship satisfaction than couples who met offline. 

Another factor is what researchers call “homogamy.” It means people tend to have stronger, more satisfying relationships when they share common ground, such as similar values, cultural backgrounds, education levels, and life goals. Offline couples, it turns out, are more likely to have that natural overlap because they tend to meet in shared spaces, like church, school, mutual friends, the lunch line at work.

There’s also the challenge of community support. When you meet someone through friends or your social circle, you automatically get a little network of encouragement. Your people know their people. There’s history. And maybe some gentle accountability. But when you meet online, you don’t get that built-in backup system, at least not right away.

None of this means online dating is doomed. Plenty of strong, loving, deeply connected couples met on Bumble or Hinge or (gasp!) even Craigslist back in the day.

We have to move beyond swiping, past the highlight-reel conversations, and toward the real stuff: communication, vulnerability, shared purpose, and mutual respect.

As someone who leads a nonprofit focused on strengthening families, I think a lot about how relationships begin and how they grow. The spark is fun, sure. But it’s the slow burn of trust, laughter, shared grocery lists, and “I’ll get up with the baby this time” moments that keep couples going strong.

So if you met your partner online, wonderful. Keep watering that relationship. Build your community. Don’t be afraid to ask the hard questions. And if you’re still swiping, maybe balance that screen time with real-world connection. Let your friends set you up. Go to that birthday party. Say hello at the library. Sometimes love shows up when your phone is in your pocket.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

My brother and I had a lengthy conversation this week about mental health. We both work in what I’ll call “high-impact” jobs, though they seem worlds apart.

Some days, coping and processing the stress can feel like mental gymnastics, flipping and stretching the capacities of our mental health. 

According to a 2016 meta-analysis on mental health and families, the way we feel and deal with stress is part genetically inclined and part learned behavior. Does this mean we’re doomed from the start? 

Not at all, but the more you recognize your actions and identify thoughts and behaviors you’d like to shift, the more likely you can transform the cycle for yourself and others.

First, the genetics.

Think of genes like a blueprint, not a verdict. As I mentioned before, research on twins shows that depression and many anxiety disorders are partly inherited; roughly a third to a half of the risk comes from our DNA. That sounds scary until you remember the other half is about life, habits, and help. Genes can load the dice, but they don’t decide the roll.

Now, the relationships.

Kids learn how to “do” emotions and deal with stressful situations by watching us. When we name feelings, stay steady, and coach them through tough moments, kids tend to have fewer symptoms of anxiety and depression. When we’re harsh, dismissive, or always rush in to rescue, it can keep worries alive. One recent study even showed that a parent-only program where moms and dads learned how to respond more supportively and stepped back from “over-accommodating” reduced children’s anxiety as much as traditional child therapy. Parents matter (which is equal parts empowering and humbling, I know).

Stress can echo across generations, too.

Adverse Childhood Experiences, things like abuse, neglect, or living with a parent who’s seriously struggling, raise the risk for anxiety and depression later on. That doesn’t mean a child is doomed. It does mean safe, stable, nurturing relationships are medicine. The more we can make home predictable, warm, and firm-but-kind, the more we turn down the volume on risk.

And yes, the body keeps the score.

Here’s a simple illustration of how our genetics affect our mental health: life can act like a dimmer switch on our genes. Chronic stress can nudge some genes “brighter” or “dimmer” without changing the DNA code itself. That sounds heavy, but there’s hope in it—healthy routines, supportive relationships, and good skills to cope can move those dimmers back to bright.

So what do we do with all this?

If you’re struggling, start with you.

When a parent gets effective care, kids benefit. Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) has a strong track record for both depression and anxiety. If in-person sessions are hard to manage, ask your doctor about guided online CBT options. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about getting access to tools and using them.

Make feelings part of normal life at home.

Use simple, honest language: “My chest feels tight. I’m going to take three slow breaths—want to try with me?” Regular check-ins on a daily basis are helpful. Ask for one high, one low, and one gratitude at dinner and turn the conversation into a tiny support group. Programs that help parents talk openly about a parent’s depression or anxiety have been shown to improve how families function and how kids feel. Silence is scarier than the truth.

Help anxious kids by changing how you respond.

It’s natural to “save” a worried child from hard things: you email the teacher, cancel the sleepover, skip the tryouts. Sometimes that helps short-term, but it can feed anxiety long-term. A supportive stance sounds like, “I see you’re scared, and I know you can do hard things. I’m here to help you practice.” Step by step (and yes, sometimes with tears), kids build courage.

Protect the basics: sleep and movement.

Tired brains are cranky brains. Consistent bedtimes, phones out of bedrooms, and a calm wind-down routine help everyone. And regular movement like walking, biking, and dance parties in the kitchen, has real, measurable benefits for mood. You don’t need a gym membership to help your nervous system breathe.

Parent with warmth and structure.

The parenting style that research suggests works best is called authoritative: clear rules, consistent follow-through, and plenty of warmth. Think steady schedules, predictable consequences, and lots of affection. You can be kind and firm at the same time. (Honestly, that’s the secret sauce.)

If your family is in a hard spot today, please know help is available. For everyday support, reach out to your primary care clinician, your child’s pediatrician, or a trusted counselor. First Things First would love to help you through coaching and family support. You are not alone in this.

Here’s the heart of it: mental health issues such as anxiety and depression can echo through families, but echoes fade when we change the dynamics of the room. Awareness first. Skills help. Routines soothe. Relationships heal. Start small. Keep it kind. And celebrate every tiny win. Those are the bricks that create a stronger foundation in you and build a healthier next generation.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

A few days ago, my six-year-old came home from a playdate with shoulders sagging and tears in his eyes. “Nobody wanted to play with me today,” he said. In that moment, I was catapulted back to my own grown-up version of the same sting, learning about a meeting I wasn’t invited to.

Brains of every age register that exclusion as actual pain; functional MRI studies show the anterior cingulate cortex lighting up during social rejection just as it does when we stub a toe.

We like to think adulthood vaccinates us against playground politics, yet a meta analysis of 120 Cyberball experiments (a virtual ball tossing game researchers use to simulate ostracism) finds that even brief exclusion tanks self-esteem and mood in participants well past puberty.

The long-running Harvard Study of Adult Development echoes the cost: people who nurture warm relationships live longer, are happier, and stay mentally sharper—decades of data distilled to one sentence, “Good relationships keep us healthier and happier, period.” 

So what helps? First, call the feeling by its name. Neuroscientists argue that labeling an emotion recruits the thinking parts of the brain and lowers its intensity; it’s like dimming a harsh light.

Next, treat yourself with the same gentleness you’d offer a friend; a 2025 systematic review shows self-compassion cushions the blow of social media comparisons and other modern snubs.

Then take a small risk: send the “Miss you! Coffee soon?” text. People with about five dependable friends report the highest well-being, while those averaging barely three lag behind, according to a recent Australian survey on friendship and mental health. Building (or rebuilding) those five can start with one invite.

When our kids feel iced out, the script shifts from fixing to listening. Researchers tracking online peer rejection found that children bounced back fastest when they felt supported by parents or teachers. So I sit on the kitchen floor, eye level with my son, and say, “That sounds rough. Tell me everything.” Only after he exhales do we practice what he might say tomorrow: “Can I have a turn after Jason?” or, if need be, “That hurts. Please stop.” 

Remember, modeling is powerful; when children see or hear their parents experience rejection or feeling left out, and they see a healthy, action-oriented response, they learn that resilience is an action verb.

It can be tempting to try and hide our own “negative” or “hurtful” feelings from our children. But being open with them about what’s going on in our world and how we’re dealing with certain issues can build our connection with them and boost their confidence. Of course, it’s important these conversations remain age-appropriate.

Sometimes exclusion crosses the line into bullying. If your child’s stomachaches multiply or their spark dims, loop in the teacher early and document patterns. Often, though, the remedy is simpler: genuine connection. Last night, while my toddler built block towers, my son and I drew a “friend web” on scrap paper: classmates, cousins, and neighbors. These circles and lines reminded him (and me) how many doors can swing open when one seems shut.

Feeling left out is universal, but it doesn’t have to be terminal. Name it, tend to it with kindness, and reach out, whether you’re six or thirty-five.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

The other night, my six-year-old son asked, “Can something be true for one person but not for another?” And just like that, between spaghetti and bedtime, we stumbled into philosophy.

I know—it sounds like something best left to college kids with thick glasses and lots of coffee. But recent research says otherwise. In fact, teaching philosophy to kids might be one of the best ways to help them think more clearly, speak more confidently, and understand the world around them. Even better? It doesn’t require fancy lessons or textbooks. Just a little curiosity and a lot of listening.

Philosophy is all about asking big questions and thinking deeply about them. Questions like: What’s right and wrong?, What makes something real?, Why do we do what we do?

It’s not about having the right answers. It’s about learning to ask smart questions, listen to others, and explain your thinking.

And yes, even young kids can do this. They already do—every time they ask “Why?” five times in a row.

According to a recent article from OK Diario, philosophy is one of the best subjects for sharpening kids’ minds. In places where it’s taught, students do better in reading, writing, and math. But here in the U.S., it’s hardly ever part of the school day.

Why? A few reasons. Schools focus so much on testing that there’s little time for open-ended thinking. And some adults assume kids aren’t ready for deep ideas—but the research suggests that’s just not true. Research shows children who study philosophy become better thinkers, kinder classmates, and more confident speakers.

So if it’s so helpful, how can we bring it back?

You don’t need a degree in ancient thinkers to get started. Philosophy can happen anywhere—on the way to school, at dinner, or during storytime. The key is to welcome questions and let your child do the thinking.

When your child asks a big question—like “What happens when we die?” or “Why do some people lie?”—try this:

  • Ask what they think. Instead of giving an answer, say, “That’s a great question. What do you think?”
  • Listen. Let them talk without jumping in right away. Sometimes just saying things out loud helps kids understand their own thoughts.
  • Wonder with them. You can say, “Hmm, I’m not sure either. Let’s think about it together.”

Even toddlers can join in. My daughter, who’s almost two, recently said, “Moon sad.” I didn’t correct her—I asked, “Why do you think the moon is sad?” Her answer? “It’s alone.” Philosophical gold. 

In a world full of quick opinions and loud arguments, kids who can think deeply and speak kindly have a big advantage. Philosophy helps them pause, reflect, and connect with others. It doesn’t just build brains—it builds better people.

So next time your child asks a big question—or even a weird one—lean in. You might just find yourself in the middle of a thoughtful, funny, meaningful conversation. And that’s something no app or worksheet can teach.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

I’ve worked in the non-profit space long enough to know poverty wears more faces than just financial strain. And while my current reality is keeping my toddler from climbing everything in sight and trying to stop my six-year-old from sneakily waking up in the middle of the night to play legos for hours, I can’t help but reflect on another kind of scary reality—one we don’t often see but we feel: social poverty.

Social poverty isn’t about empty wallets. It’s about empty calendars, empty tables, and empty inboxes.

It’s the absence of dependable relationships and meaningful community—what some researchers from Northwestern University call a “lack of perceived or actual support from social networks.” It cuts across economic lines, affecting everyone from CEOs in high-rise condos to single parents in subsidized housing. But it hits harder and sticks longer in low-income communities, often compounding the already heavy weight of generational poverty.

Simply put, social poverty is a lack of social capital. That’s a wonky term, but think of it as your “people portfolio”—the relationships that give you help, guidance, accountability, encouragement, even opportunity. When that portfolio is empty, you’re socially poor. And the consequences? They’re not just sad; they’re significant.

Social poverty can impact everything from mental health to job prospects, parenting to physical well-being.

According to a 2023 study in Social Science & Medicine, those with weak social networks and disconnected family structures are at increased risk of depression, substance abuse, and chronic illness—regardless of income.

Yet for families living in low-income neighborhoods, where institutions are often strained and trust is fragile, this scarcity of connection becomes generational. Kids raised without a strong web of relationships and supportive families are more likely to grow up without the very safety nets that help them thrive.

Now let’s talk family. Because the breakdown of the family unit plays a huge role here.

Strong families are the original social safety net.

They’re the first responders in crisis, the late-night babysitters, the ride to the doctor, the wisdom at the dinner table– the built-in support system. But as marriage rates fall and single-parent households rise—particularly in economically vulnerable communities—many families find themselves going it alone.

Melissa Kearney, a University of Maryland economist and author of The Two-Parent Privilege, makes this point clearly: “We have a growing class divide in family structure, and that divide exacerbates inequality.” Two-parent families, she notes, are more likely to provide the kind of consistent emotional and logistical support that buffers kids against adversity. Without that, children are more vulnerable to instability, and parents are more likely to feel isolated.

And when isolation becomes the norm, social poverty isn’t far behind.

Let’s be clear: solving financial poverty matters. But if we address only the bank account and ignore the relational account, we’re missing half the story.

While I mentioned before that relational poverty exists across the socioeconomic divide, Dr. Robert Putnam, author of Our Kids: The American Dream in Crisis, highlights how affluent families not only have more money, but also have more access to “mentors, tutors, more stable family structures, social networks, and community stability.” This web of relationships supports upward mobility. Meanwhile, lower-income families often lack access to the very connections that could help them climb out of poverty.

As a mom of two, I think about this all the time. Not just What do my kids need? but Who do my kids need? Who’s going to show up when life gets hard? Who’s in our corner?

If we want to support families and children in poverty effectively, we need to build community and relationships as fiercely as we build resumes.

That means:

  • Rebuilding the family: Supporting healthy marriages and involved parenting is not just good policy—it’s good economics and social strategy. Programs that teach relationship skills, co-parenting strategies, and conflict resolution actually increase family stability, according to research published in the Journal of Family Psychology.
  • Investing in community: Whether through churches, schools, neighborhood groups, or nonprofits, communities thrive when people know and are known. Communities thrive when residents are empowered to make a difference from within.
  • Reducing stigma: Admitting loneliness or a lack of support should be met with compassion, not shame. Let’s normalize reaching out, showing up, and making room at our metaphorical tables.

Financial poverty may be easier to measure, but social poverty is just as real—and arguably more insidious. As a society, we can’t afford to keep treating relationships like luxuries when they’re basic necessities.

So when it comes to considering how to support families in poverty, let’s do more than ask, “How much do they make?” or “What type of education do they have?” but “Who do they have?” Because sometimes, the kindest thing we can offer isn’t a handout—it’s a hand to hold.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

If you’ve ever said, “When I have kids, I’ll never say that,” only to hear your mother’s voice come flying out of your mouth, you are not alone.

Parenting has a funny way of stirring up ghosts from our childhoods, especially the ones we thought we’d buried under self-help books.

But there’s a deeper undercurrent to these moments. Many of us are waking up to something our parents and grandparents rarely talked about: generational trauma—the emotional inheritance no one asked for but many of us carry.

And now, a growing body of research and brave voices are helping us understand how to break those cycles and build something better for the next generation.

At its core, generational trauma refers to the emotional wounds passed down from one generation to the next—often unintentionally.

It can stem from big events like war, racism, poverty, abuse, or neglect, or from smaller, chronic patterns like emotional unavailability, perfectionism, or unresolved grief.

Dr. Maria Yellow Horse Brave Heart, a social worker and researcher who pioneered the concept, first studied the intergenerational trauma experienced by Native American communities. Since then, the concept has expanded, backed by studies in epigenetics showing that trauma doesn’t just change our behavior—it can actually alter gene expression passed on to our children.

That’s right. Your great-grandmother’s heartbreak might still echo in your nervous system. (No pressure.)

Trauma doesn’t always look like chaos.

Sometimes it shows up as a parent who shuts down during conflict. A tendency to over-apologize. An inability to rest without guilt. Even hyper-independence can be a trauma response dressed in hustle culture’s clothing.

Dr. Thema Bryant, psychologist and past president of the American Psychological Association, explains it this way:

“We often internalize what we experienced growing up—especially if we never saw another way. But healing is possible. And we don’t heal in isolation; we heal in relationship.”

Here’s the good news: trauma may be passed down, but so is healing and reconciliation.

A 2023 study published in Development and Psychopathology found that when parents actively process their own trauma—through therapy, journaling, support groups, or even reflective conversations—they’re more likely to parent with sensitivity, patience, and emotional attunement.

The key isn’t perfection. It’s awareness.

Dr. Dan Siegel, clinical professor of psychiatry at UCLA and author of Parenting from the Inside Out, emphasizes the importance of what he calls the “coherent narrative.” When parents understand and make sense of their own stories, even painful ones, they’re better equipped to nurture secure attachment in their children.

In other words, you don’t have to have had a perfect childhood to give your kids a healthy one.

Let’s be honest: healing generational trauma while simultaneously keeping small humans alive, fed, and in semi-matching socks is a tall order.

You will have days when you lose your cool.

You will say things you swore you’d never say. And still—you can be the one who breaks the cycle.

Because every time you apologize to your child instead of shutting down…
Every time you choose connection over control…
Every time you sit with your feelings instead of stuffing them down with peanut butter pretzels…

You are doing the work. And that matters more than any curated parenting philosophy.

A Few Tools for the Journey

Therapy.

Especially trauma-informed care like EMDR or somatic therapy.

Books.

Try It Didn’t Start With You by Mark Wolynn or The Deepest Well by Dr. Nadine Burke Harris.

Reflection.

Journaling, support groups, or simply asking yourself: Is this reaction about now—or about then?

You are not responsible for what happened to you, but you are responsible for what you do with it. And your kids don’t need you to be perfect—they just need you to keep showing up.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

My son had his sixth birthday recently. He came home from school with a dozen notes and cards in his backpack, all of which were covered in hearts, glitter and the endearing best wishes of his closest female classmates.  

While I would say this slightly concerned me, I also know that this behavior is pretty normal in kindergarten. Children at this age often imitate what they see at home or in the media. They also develop a sense of feelings towards others, although child development professionals clarify these feelings are much more about companionship and friendship than romance.

In the middle of processing this, I stumbled across several recent surveys that shocked me. According to Pew Research Center, approximately 56% of Gen Z individuals (ages 18-29) reported being single, significantly more than previous generations at their age. An American Perspectives Survey found similar results:

Gen Z is the least likely of all current generations to seek or form romantic partnerships. 

After reading this, I couldn’t help but wonder if Gen Z students shared sweet little “love notes” in kindergarten. Did something change? What keeps them from seeking companionship and connection?

Experts suggest several possibilities. Dr. Jean Twenge, psychologist and author of “iGen,” points to the increased reliance on smartphones and social media, making face-to-face interactions daunting or even unnecessary for many. Digital interaction offers a safer, controlled environment, shielding young adults from the vulnerability inherent in traditional romance.

Economics plays a significant role, too.

Dr. Helen Fisher, anthropologist and Chief Scientific Advisor at Match.com, highlights financial instability as a deterrent. Faced with student debt and uncertain job markets, Gen Z individuals prioritize financial and personal stability before venturing into relationships. Fisher calls this the “slow love” trend, where careful planning precedes commitment.

There’s also a shifting cultural landscape. Dr. Alexandra Solomon, a psychologist at Northwestern University, notes that Gen Z has grown up with heightened awareness around emotional health, consent, and individual identity. Young adults today are more inclined to invest energy in personal growth, mental health, and friendships before adding romance to the equation.

But what does this mean for the future?

While some view this as merely delayed milestones, others worry about long-term effects. Fewer relationships could result in lower marriage and birth rates, already concerns in countries facing population decline. Moreover, researchers like Eli Finkel from Northwestern University caution that prolonged loneliness and isolation might exacerbate mental health challenges already prevalent among Gen Z.

Yet, there’s hope. Experts stress adaptability and encourage intergenerational conversations.

Solomon suggests families and communities proactively teach relationship skills, emotional intelligence, and resilience. Offering safe spaces for honest dialogue about romance and relationships might empower young adults to navigate intimacy confidently and healthily.

As a parent and advocate for healthy relationships, I’m hopeful. Yes, romance might look different in the digital age, but our fundamental human need for connection and love remains unchanged. Perhaps Gen Z’s cautious, thoughtful approach will yield stronger, more intentional relationships—relationships built on solid emotional foundations. 

So, rather than despair, let’s commit to supporting the next generation in defining what healthy, committed romantic relationships look like and understanding why they matter. Maybe the future of “romance” can transition away from the fatigue of swiping left or right and move towards pausing, reflecting, and ultimately, choosing wisely.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].