Yearning comes naturally.

 

A childhood show. The smell of grandma’s backyard. A first love’s smile.

 

At first, it’s ecstasy. A frenzy of comfort accompanied by warmth. It’s revisiting those old memories to recall the taste of those sweet days.

 

Nostalgia is the powerful feeling of sentimental longing for the past.

 

Nostalgia captures happy moments from a significant time of development, with childhood memories being the most common. As we grow up, we plant our roots while building the layers of who we are with each experience because anchoring our identity through visits to the past helps us reconnect with who we are. Or, were.

 

Quickly, the sweet taste of nostalgia can turn sour. That moment from ten years ago won’t feel the same now. The days once familiar now feel alien. Instead of feeling comforted, you become estranged. It’s not long before you’re lying in bed, spending hours scrolling through your camera roll, wishing to return to that time in your life.

 

The desire for nostalgia and the yearning to return often stem from discomfort in the present. When we don’t feel satisfied with the current, we begin reaching for anything that can offer us instant gratification. The past is the first thing we grab because it is there, always readily available to us, even morphing.

 

While remembering the “good ole days” is fun, it’s somewhat distorted. Memories fade more as time continues, and the details become fuzzy. We begin to misremember events and people, often overlooking the bad moments for the false good.

 

With this, nostalgia is often used to commodify the past. The recent trend has shown a growing obsession with reviving the old. The word “vintage” is plastered onto everything. Companies seek to profit off of trends of the past, creating an artificial replication of our social culture and history. We see this manifest in the resurgence of 90s fashion, reboots of old Disney movies, and, alarmingly, Donald Trump’s “Make America Great Again.” reassurance.

 

When nostalgia morphs into rewriting the past, it becomes problematic. It causes a disregard for accuracy and further silences the people exploited and oppressed during those times. Our roots cannot be framed within the cheapened versions of our stories — they devalue our language, traditions, ancestors, and living histories.

 

The wistful longing for our past is natural for humans. Mixing the mystery of the unknown future with the comfort of our known past is alluring, but it can be a desire full of shortcomings. Knowing to not dwell is critical, and, more importantly, knowing to not allow the commodification of our memories.