I Tried Explaining NFTs to My Grandmother Every Day for a Week

Day 1: What’s an Internet Picture Worth, Anyway?

It started with a sigh and a slice of banana bread. I told my grandmother I wanted to explain NFTs to her. She adjusted her glasses and said, “En-eff-tees? That’s a medical condition?”
I pulled out my phone and showed her a Bored Ape. “This is worth over $200,000,” I said.
She blinked. “That monkey? Is it made of diamonds?”

The moment made me realize just how abstract the world of digital ownership is for someone who still mails birthday cards and balances a checkbook with pen and paper. I told her NFTs are digital assets unique files stored on a blockchain, proving ownership of art, music, or even tweets. She stared blankly, then offered me more banana bread. We weren’t off to a great start.

Day 2: The Trouble with Tangibility

Trying again the next morning, I came equipped with metaphors. “Imagine your collectible porcelain teacups,” I began. “You can see and touch them, but they also have sentimental and monetary value. Now imagine if one of those teacups lived on the internet.”
She paused. “So... I can’t drink tea from it?”
“No, Grandma, you can’t drink tea from it.”
She looked concerned. “Then what’s the point?”


NFTs, I explained, are about ownership not usage. Just as someone can own the original Mona Lisa while the world views replicas, NFT owners hold the digital ‘original,’ verifiable through the blockchain. But to her, if you can’t use it, eat it, or frame it, it’s not real. “It sounds like Monopoly money,” she concluded.

Day 3: Ownership vs. Access

We took a different route on day three. I showed her a famous NFT music clip and explained how the buyer owns the original file, even though anyone can listen to it.
She frowned. “That’s like buying a wedding cake that everyone’s already had a slice of.”

In a way, she was right. I tried to stress that the value isn’t in exclusivity of experience, but in the digital certificate that proves originality and ownership. Think of it as a signed first edition of a book. She got that. “So it’s like buying bragging rights,” she said.
Exactly, Grandma.

Day 4: The Blockchain Is Not a Sewing Pattern

Today’s mission: explain the blockchain. “It’s a digital ledger that keeps a secure, public record of ownership,” I said confidently.
She gave me a patient look. “Like an accounting book?”
“Yes!”

She nodded. “And who keeps it?”
“It’s decentralized,” I replied. “No one person or company owns it. It’s maintained by a network of computers all verifying transactions independently.”
“So everyone keeps the book, but no one owns the book?”
“Right.”

She sipped her tea. “Sounds like a church bake sale without a treasurer.”
It dawned on me that the language we use around blockchain is riddled with abstract terms that don’t translate easily across generations. Concepts like decentralization or trustless systems need grounding in familiar experiences—none of which include mining cryptocurrency or gas fees.

Day 5: Art, Value, and the Eternal “Why”

By now, she had the basics down sort of. But she still couldn’t grasp why someone would spend thousands on a JPEG.
“I have hundreds of photos on my phone,” she said, thumbing through pictures of her cat. “Can I sell these as NFTs?”

Technically, yes, I told her. The market, however, is another story.
I explained how NFTs have become a way for artists to sell their work directly to collectors, without needing galleries or publishers. She liked that. “Cutting out the middlemen. That’s clever.”

She then asked if her quilt designs could be turned into NFTs. I said yes, and her eyes lit up. “You mean I could sell a picture of a quilt?”
“Not just a picture. You’d be selling a digital certificate of your original design, stored forever on the blockchain.”
She shook her head. “This generation is wild.”

Day 6: Scams, FOMO, and the Cult of the Next Big Thing

On day six, we got into the murky waters: scams and speculative frenzy.
I told her about rug pulls, pump-and-dumps, and people losing their savings chasing digital gold. She gasped. “You mean people are getting swindled?”
“Yes, but it’s not all bad,” I added. “There are legitimate projects that empower creators and build communities.”

She gave me a knowing glance. “If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.”
That sentence hit harder than she knew. In the NFT space, optimism often collides with hype. People buy in because they fear missing out, not because they understand what they’re buying. Grandma’s wisdom, rooted in decades of financial prudence, had a way of cutting through all the noise.

Day 7: Bridging Two Worlds

By the last day, something had shifted. Grandma didn’t roll her eyes when I brought up NFTs. She still thought they were “a little bonkers,” but she understood their essence.
She told me, “It’s not so different from how people once thought stocks were gambling. Now it’s retirement planning.”

She wasn’t going to mint her own NFTs anytime soon, but she respected the concept. “If it helps artists and creators earn money in a new way, then it’s worth something. Even if I can’t hang it on my wall.”

I asked if she would ever buy an NFT.
“No,” she said. “But I’d make one. Of my quilt, just for fun.”

Understanding Isn’t Always Agreement, and That’s Okay

Trying to explain NFTs to my grandmother wasn’t just about technology. It was about time, patience, and finding a shared language between generations. What seemed absurd to her at first slowly transformed into something worth thinking about if not participating in.
She didn’t become a crypto evangelist or suddenly embrace Web3, but she listened, questioned, and offered insights that no Twitter thread could match. And in return, I gained a deeper understanding of how deeply our digital culture can alienate or enlighten depending on how we communicate it.
In the end, this wasn’t a week about NFTs. It was a week about learning to speak with love, not just logic. Because sometimes, a slice of banana bread says more than a blockchain ever could.