The Double-Edged Sword of Nostalgia

By: Molly Meyers

As spring commencement nears, I find myself looking back more than forward. The past four years have moved fast, and every moment feels significant with the finish line in sight. In my experience, nostalgia seems strongest during moments of change, turning everyday routines into sentimental memories. It has a unique way of reshaping our recollections, emphasizing the best parts while softening the challenges. 

I now walk past the buildings of my former lectures and feel a sentimental ache, despite how much I may have detested particular courses in the past. It is a bizarre feeling, yearning for something you wish to never experience again. The contradiction of missing something I once wanted to end is what makes nostalgia so intriguing. Nostalgia just works that way, making even the most difficult moments feel significant in hindsight. But are we truly longing for the past itself or for the way nostalgia weaves it into our sense of identity?

Psychologists suggest that nostalgia serves several critical purposes beyond just reminiscing. For example, the American Psychological Association believes that one of its core purposes rests in unity. That is, it brings together our sense of self and, over time, unifies those aspects into who we are as people and builds our core identities. In particular, since life circumstances are constantly changing, nostalgia helps us to hold on to our sense of self over time. 

The American Psychological Association also suggests that nostalgia not only helps us hold on to our sense of self but also shapes the person we hope to become. By reflecting and engaging with our past, we can identify the values, relationships, and moments that have been most impactful to us, guiding our future decisions and sense of purpose.

With that being said, emotionally, nostalgia is a double-edged sword. The problem is that it distorts our perception of the past, making things seem better than they ever were; if one’s not careful, it's easy to become caught up in it. It's easy to remember the beauty of the law quad as summer turns to fall. It's easy to recall the first real days of spring, as everyone gathers in Diag, but it’s just as easy to forget the feeling of your first failed exam and the stress and uncertainty that comes with being a university student. 

Because of this, nostalgia can make us fear the future. At times, it can make us feel as though nothing we experience in that future will measure up to what has already passed. But in reality, nostalgia doesn’t mean our best moments are behind us; rather, it's proof we can create more. 

As graduation approaches, I realize nostalgia isn’t about holding onto the past; it's about carrying it with you. The days of football games at the Big House, late nights at Circ, and last-minute Econ study sessions may come to an end, but the experiences, friendships, and lessons will never disappear; they’ll evolve. Someday, I’ll be reminiscing on this moment, my last days on campus, the uncertainty that comes with graduating–and just like every other phase of life, I’ll realize that change only adds to my past; it doesn’t erase it. 

So, for now, I’m letting myself feel nostalgic. But I’m also reminding myself that the experiences I’m looking back on only happened because I kept moving forward. And if that’s true, then there’s no reason to believe my best moments are behind me.