Recently, it seems as though the internet—and the world at large—has been swept up in a wave of nostalgia. While nostalgia is hardly a new emotion, its grip feels stronger than ever, crystallizing into a clear desire to return to the past. We find ourselves reminiscing about our childhoods, about plastic toys, rainbow-spotted rugs, and carefree recesses. People revel in how life seemed simpler pre-COVID, buying digital cameras and embracing Y2K trends in hopes of recreating the ‘ideal’ world of the 2000s and 2010s. In essence, the nostalgic frenzy suggests that civilization and pop culture peaked between 2000 and 2019. Of course, this view overlooks significant crises like 9/11 and the economic recession, but the enchantment with the past is, in many ways, understandable. Nostalgia for “simpler” times is a sentiment shared across generations—after all, nearly every generation believes their youth was the golden age. But for those of us who were in middle school during the pandemic, this feeling seems especially intensified.
The pandemic brought chaos and lasting impacts to all generations—more screen time, heightened social anxieties, and a world irrevocably changed. Years were lost in a haze of masks, distancing, and awkward Zoom calls. It’s only natural, then, that many look back on pre-pandemic years as a golden age. But for those of us in middle school during this time, the pandemic marked the end of childhood itself. Middle school is a transformative period in an adolescent’s life, characterized by a whirlwind of social, emotional, and physical changes. In just a few short years, students transition from the carefree days of elementary school to the often overwhelming realities of high school. For most, this shift is gradual, but the pandemic accelerated it. One moment you’re in sixth grade, excited to be growing up; the next, you’re graduating middle school and stepping into high school. The years in between were lost, leaving a sharp divide that forever altered our sense of time and transition. It’s no surprise, then, that we tend to associate life pre-pandemic with the “good old days” of childhood.
So, when people say, “life was so much better pre-pandemic,” I can’t help but think they’ve missed the point. Sure, life may have seemed better back then, but that was because we were kids! High school was just as challenging in 2014 or 2016 as it is now; society was struggling with many of the same issues. To ignore that would be shortsighted. And yes, I understand there are countless reasons why people feel nostalgic—great music, peak fashion, and more. I’m not trying to downplay those sentiments. But before you fall too deep into the melancholic rabbit hole of “I wish it was still 2016,” take a moment to reflect. Consider why you want to return to that time, and instead focus on all the great things happening now. Make 2024 your “golden year.” Make 2025 your “golden year.” Life doesn’t peak at just one moment. It gets so much better once you realize that.