Running from the 9-5

Shopping for my first corporate internship, I excitedly tried on set after set of trousers, dresses, and blazers. I was nearly jumping in my new two-inch closed-toe heels when I remembered something my friend had told me: 

“There’s nothing I’d dread more than a 9-5.” 

I froze in the dressing room. My excitement slowly turned into hesitation. Why would someone be afraid of a corporate job? Is it really as draining as people make it out to be? 

When I got home, shopping bags filled to the brim with my very first blazer, I did what any normal person in my generation would do: I scrolled under "corporate" on TikTok for hours. Regardless, what I found was absolute chaos. 

Outfit inspiration. Day-in-my-life as a "corporate girly” vlogs. Videos about not getting promoted. Corporate as a “horror movie” and even a declaration of corporate life as “soul-sucking.” The next video said, “I love corporate. This is where I’m meant to be.” Then another: “Corporate kills.” 

Under the comment section, it felt like war. The polarity was, in other words, astonishing. 

Under the “corporate horror movie” videos: 

• “Every day is another day closer to Friday.”
  

• “No windows, loud people, unreal deadlines. It sucks.”
  

Under the “I love corporate” posts:

• “A good boss makes the whole experience!”
  

• “Do I complain about corporate life? Yes. Do I love it? Yes.”
  

• “Yay to not hating your job!! Let’s normalize it.”
  

And then there were the skeptics:

• “Corporate job would never give me purpose.”
  

• “Wooow we really are gaslighting ourselves 💀”
  

As a junior at NYU, aware that I’ll likely enter the corporate world full-time within the next five years, I had to ask myself: is this something to truly dread? Am I signing myself to be a “corporate slave” for the rest of my life? 

One comment, however, stuck with me: 

“I love corporate because it pays me enough so I can live a purposeful and fulfilling life. The whole bigger picture including corporate is what I love ”

That perspective shifted something within me. 

Corporate life may feel repetitive. Structured. Routine. But corporate isn’t slavery. What often feels like captivity is actually a lack of financial leverage. That distinction matters, and it seems to get lost in the noise of corporate horror stories.  The so-called “war on corporate” shouldn’t be blamed on a generational value shift. Gen Z prioritizes freedom, impact, and identity alignment. We want work to feel meaningful. We want flexibility. We want to live our lives fully–they’ve only just begun. 

Our parents and grandparents, Gen X and Boomers), however, were built on security and upward mobility. Stability was the dream. Now, in the age of social media, stability feels . . . almost controversial. We watched our parents wait for retirement like a dog and bone. We grew up in the age of Covid where we saw unprecedented job layoffs and close to impossible job searches with result of AI. We’ve grown to distrust institutions, so to us now, compared to the Generations before us who saw stability as the dream, we see institutional corporations as a source of distrust.

But the tension isn't really about corporations. It’s about control.. How much control do we really have over our own time? Our energy? Our identity? In our mindset, life is short. Why stay in a cage that feels pre-built for us?

At the same time, Gen Z is the first generation fully raised on the oversaturation and overexposure of social media. Videos explode across our feeds: “How to become a millionaire at 20,” “Quit your 9-5 and go backpacking in Europe,” “How to make six figures remotely.” Consuming content of influencers traveling the world on brand deals makes corporate look “safe.” But “safe” quickly becomes “boring.” What is there to brag about from a monochromatic brown desk and dusty swivel chair? 

But what we rarely see are the success rates. For every influencer funding a luxury lifestyle, thousands are struggling to make it work behind the scenes. There is an oversaturated illusion of luxurious accessibility fueled by algorithm driven aspiration. Performative “anti-9–5” branding still depends on corporate sponsorships. Living fast is fun, but someone has to fund the fun. 

Maybe the real “corporate slave” isn’t the one in tailored heels — maybe it’s the one chasing algorithmic validation without a safety net.

There are also real concerns about work-life balance. Covid reshaped expectations around remote and hybrid work. Who doesn’t love working from home? Yet now, some recruiters subtly frame not being in the office as a lack of commitment.

Though corporate’s 9-5 can blur the line between work and identity, it also funds for your real life. Your flights. Your fancy dinners. Your sports. Your hobbies. And most importantly, your independence. 

Maybe the problem isn’t corporate life itself. Maybe what we fear is feeling trapped. And maybe the ultimate “flex” isn’t escaping the system overnight, but building enough monetary leverage within it that you don’t feel trapped. The war on corporations is endlessly polarizing because it forces a trade-off, where the exchange for time is stability. 

Currently, I’m nine weeks into my own corporate 9-5 internship. And maybe I’m in the minority, but I genuinely love putting on tailored pants and heels, walking into the office with coffee in hand, and ready to answer emails. I see the complaints, and I understand the dread. I hear the “corporate slave” rhetoric. But I also see opportunity. 

Corporate isn’t a prison sentence. It’s a tool.

(Although I’ll stand by this: we seriously need more colorful offices.)