I came across a TikTok the other day, one of those short clips that lingers long after the screen goes dark. The woman in the video said something that hit me right in the chest: “nostalgia connects you to who you were before the world broke you.”
And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Because it’s true, isn’t it? There’s something about looking back, whether it’s a song we used to love, the shows we couldn’t miss, or the fashion choices we thought were iconic, that tugs at something deeper than just nostalgia. It’s not just about the aesthetics. It’s about identity. It’s about memory. It’s about mourning a version of ourselves that felt whole.
Nostalgia as a Mirror
Nostalgia isn’t just a warm, fuzzy emotion. It’s a mirror. A reflection of who we were at the time and what we believed, how we felt, and what life hadn’t yet taken from us. Before heartbreak. Before anxiety. Before we learned to question our worth.
We often think of nostalgia as a longing for a time. But more often, I think we’re longing for our self. The unfiltered, unbothered version of us who danced in our bedrooms, wore glittery eyeshadow without irony, and believed the world was a place of endless possibility. That person existed. And they mattered.
The 90s and the Innocent Self
The 90s were a weird, wonderful, deeply formative era. Pop culture was bright and expressive. Music was unapologetically emotional. TV shows like Saved by the Bell and Family Matters were our after-school companions, teaching us lessons in friendship and family while making us laugh. Even the recent Fuller House spin-off hit me with waves of nostalgia that caught me completely off guard.
These shows weren’t just entertainment, they were TGIF anchors to a time that felt safe. A time when joy was simple, laughter was abundant, and we weren’t yet carrying the burdens that would come later.
I think about those childhood days often. Riding bikes until sunset, then laying on a trampoline under a sky full of stars, dreaming with my friends about the lives we’d live as grown-ups. Back then, the world still had my mom in it. My biggest stressors were math tests and getting to dance class on time!
Life felt simpler. I felt simpler. And that simplicity, maybe that’s what I miss the most.
The Timeline of Breakage
So when did we become “broken”?
It doesn’t always happen in one big moment. Sometimes, it’s a slow erosion. A thousand small disappointments. Loss. Trauma. Rejection. The pressure to be everything, do everything, and look effortless doing it. We learn to silence our joy, to tone ourselves down, to meet expectations that were never ours to begin with.
Our self-esteem shifts. The unshakable confidence we had in childhood gets buried beneath layers of adult stress and comparison. And we start to look back, not because we want to relive the past, but because we want to find our truest most authentic selves in it.
Healing Through Nostalgia
But maybe nostalgia isn’t just escapism. Maybe it’s a breadcrumb trail.
Maybe the reason we feel so much when we hear those old songs or see those familiar shows is because they lead us back, back to the version of us who still believed in magic. Who danced freely. Who wasn’t afraid to dream.
The women in the Tik Tok who inspired this video said something else, something along these lines:“nostalgia reminds me of when things were simple, it reminds me of who I really am. That’s why I love nostalgia so much. It takes us back to our original blueprint. The one God created us with.”
And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about those words. She even mentioned that Even if your childhood wasn’t perfect, there were those golden moments back then when your nervous system would just chill the F out.” And that’s the magic of nostalgia, right? It’s not about idolizing an idealized past and it’s about remembering those moments of peace amidst the chaos. Those little snippets of serenity that let us feel like we could just breathe. The times when everything wasn’t perfect, but we still felt whole for a second.
What if we stopped cringing at the past and started reclaiming it?
Wear the butterfly clips. Watch the reruns. Sing along to the Backstreet Boys like you’re still 12. Let yourself remember. Not just the music, the shows, or the moments but the you who existed in them. The version of you who still had your mom’s voice in your ears, who could spend a whole night beneath the stars, making wishes that felt entirely possible.
So go ahead, watch the reruns. Sing at full volume. Ride your bike. Lay under the stars. Let yourself remember. We can’t go back but we can visit. And sometimes, that’s where the healing starts.
Woth Love & Gratitude,
Coach Jo 🩷
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