As a "senior" millennial who was born in 1982, my childhood and teenage years were thankfully unencumbered by the pressures of online life. Those only slightly older or younger than me are sometimes referred to as Xennials, a generation that straddles the line between two generations. We're said to have had an "analog childhood" and "digital adulthood." The descriptions are true.

This perspective helps lead to the conclusion that the world I grew up in was better than the world my two sons are growing up in. And the list of supporting evidence is long.

There is something to the idea that previous decades were better than this one. That thought is immediately met with reminders that the "good old days" were also filled with turmoil, hardships, strife, war, mundanity, disease, poverty, sacrifice, and longing, just as they are now. It's true that technological and medical advancements mean we are living more privileged, more comfortable lives than those who came before us. But much has also been lost.

It takes little time to notice modern society's lack of cohesion and togetherness. There's a palpable sense of confusion evident in our politics, communities, and even personal lives. These factors existed in other eras, but the way they are amplified now via the internet, in instant and sometimes viral fashion, creates a larger sense of despondency. We see it in how one side of the political aisle relates to the other, and vice versa. It's not only exhausting; it's saddening. The internet-fueled onslaughts mean shared values, sense of community, and even mental health have all been diminished. And this is progress?

Having everything available at our fingertips is good for many reasons. It also connects us to a kind of information treadmill that never stops, and that can take a toll. A glance while out in public reveals far too many of us are addicted to our phones. We may stand by others and move through life, but the connection to other humans is often paused, and sometimes entirely replaced, by online interactions. It's not healthy, and it doesn't encourage a positive outlook.

Take, for example, the rate of singleness among young Americans. According to professor Niobe Way of New York University, "We’re in a crisis of connection. Disconnection from ourselves and disconnection from each other. And it’s getting worse.”

In my childhood years, the lack of a World Wide Web meant more of an inward focus on one's family, real-life friends, and community. Learning about the wider world should always be encouraged. But now, the focus seems to be escaping our immediate surroundings and looking elsewhere for stimulation and camaraderie.

There is no magic pill for cultural tedium. Life will always be filled with minor and major problems. Furthermore, technology will only advance. We'll be drawn steadily and further away from focusing on what's right in front of us. But surely, an increasing lack of focus on tangible aspects of family and friendship has created a society that comes across as more dispirited than ever.

Growing up in the 1980s and 1990s affords me a perspective that appeared modern to my parents and grandparents at that time. I'm not alone in saying my nostalgia for a less complicated, less confused world grows stronger. Some of it has to do with age and parenthood. But it's not an exaggeration to say there has been a sea change. The world in the pre-internet era came with natural limitations. Now that we've collectively moved beyond those barriers, it's almost impossible to simplify our lives. But given the never-ending chaos and division, it's something we need.

Kimberly Ross ( @SouthernKeeks ) is a contributor to the Washington Examiner's Beltway Confidential blog and a columnist at Arc Digital.