Apparently, the youths (yes, I said it, the youths) have discovered something groundbreaking. Revolutionary. Positively cutting-edge.

It’s called Nonnamaxxing.

Which, for those of us who have been busy answering emails while brushing our teeth and silently spiraling, is the idea that if you live like an Italian grandmother (a nonna) you might actually live longer. And not just longer in the “more years to check your phone in different locations” sense, but longer in the this feels like a life sense.

The prescription?

Walk more.
Eat real food.
Stay connected to your people.
Drink your coffee without also drafting a memo, solving a crisis, and questioning your life choices.

I mean. Groundbreaking.

Let me just say if Gen Z needed to invent a term for this in order to do it, I support them. Fully. Wholeheartedly. Wrap it in a trend, put it on TikTok, add a soft filter and a loaf of bread. Whatever it takes.

Because somewhere along the way, we collectively decided that “living well” meant optimizing everything into oblivion.

Your steps? Tracked.
Your sleep? Scored.
Your meals? Either demonized or photographed.
Your downtime? Monetized, branded, or quietly eliminated.

Meanwhile, Nonna is in her kitchen, stirring something that took three hours and exactly zero apps, wondering why you look so tired.

The other day, I walked 25,000 steps.

Not because my watch shamed me. Not because I was training for anything. Just walking. Wandering. Existing in a body that, it turns out, likes to move through the world.

And for a whole week, I clocked over 15,000 steps a day.

Do you know what happened?

Nothing.

And everything.

My brain quieted down. My shoulders dropped. I noticed things, like the way spring is finally showing up but still playing a commitment-phobe version of peekaboo. One day it’s warmth and possibility, the next it’s like, “Just kidding, here’s a gust of existential wind.”

And yet, walking through it all feels good. Grounding. Like I’m participating in my own life instead of speed-scrolling past it.

Nonnamaxxing also suggests eating real food. Local food. Food that your great-grandmother would recognize as food and not as a chemistry experiment with a barcode.

Which, again, feels less like a trend and more like a memory we forgot we had.

Because somewhere between convenience and chaos, we started eating things that don’t spoil, don’t nourish, and don’t particularly taste like anything unless aggressively flavored.

Nonna, meanwhile, is buying tomatoes that look like tomatoes. Bread that goes stale if you ignore it (as it should since consequences build character). Olive oil that isn’t trying to be shelf-stable until the next presidential administration.

And then there’s my favorite. Drink your coffee without doing anything else.

I know. I’ll give you a moment.

No emails.
No texting.
No “just quickly checking something.”

Just coffee.

Hot. Present. Undistracted.

Honestly, this might be the most radical part of the whole thing. Not the walking. Not the food. The stillness.

But here’s the question that keeps nudging at me.

Why did we need Gen Z to rebrand common sense as a lifestyle movement for us to take it seriously?

Why did “live simply, move your body, eat real food, connect with people” become something we had to rediscover like a lost civilization?

And maybe the answer is uncomfortable.

Because simple isn’t easy.

Simple requires boundaries.
It requires saying no.
It requires tolerating the quiet long enough to hear yourself think.

And in a world that rewards busyness, noise, and constant availability, choosing simplicity can feel almost rebellious.


So yes, I will gladly join the nonnamaxxers.

I will walk aimlessly, joyfully, and excessively.
I will eat food that remembers where it came from.
I will sit with my coffee like it’s not just caffeine, but a small, daily ceremony.
I will let spring take its sweet, inconsistent time.

And I will try to build a life that feels less like a checklist and more like something worth lingering in.

Because Nonna knew something we forgot.

You don’t need to optimize your life.

You need to live it.