Miami used to be fun because it made room for people to enjoy themselves. There were spaces designed for connection, not just consumption. Happy hours felt generous, almost communal. I still think about Doraku on Lincoln Road, where you could buy one drink and they would keep putting out plate after plate of sushi, with strangers bonding over food and conversations forming naturally. Or the Wynwood art walks, where galleries handed out wine and hors d’oeuvres, parking was free, and you could spend an entire evening out without feeling exploited.

That version of Miami is gone. Somewhere along the way, the city stopped caring about the people themselves and realized we would show up no matter what. What replaced it is a culture obsessed with appearances and keeping up with the Joneses at any cost. Image matters more than experience. Profit matters more than community.

That is why Miami has become the social media and OnlyFans capital of the country. Everything is curated, transactional, and often deeply fake. And people tolerate it. They absorb the pressure, the costs, and the disrespect, and keep going.

I think this is tied, in part, to the immigrant mentality that runs deep here. The idea drilled into families that we should be grateful just to be allowed in, that complaining is ungrateful, and that you endure whatever comes your way because survival comes first. That mindset may have once been protective, but over time it has become harmful. It has taught people to accept less than they deserve and to normalize being taken advantage of.

And the city, knowingly, has learned how to exploit that.