When that Buzzfeed quiz I’m taking instead of writing a paper asks me what super power I would want to have, my answer is always time travel. I have an affinity for all things vintage, and am constantly slipping on those rose-colored glasses (the ones I thrifted that are from the 60s, of course) to gaze back on the past.
written by Heather Bartel
Everything that’s already happened was certainly better than whatever is happening right now. What’s the word, kids? Nostalgia. I’m plagued by it. Not only do I like to romanticize about what it would have been like to be a flapper in the 20s or a flower child at Woodstock, but I also tend to romanticize my own past. Middle school wasn’t that bad, I’ll think to myself. It was actually kind of wonderful. I’ll never be in third grade again, which is really a shame since it was totally the best time of my life. That ex-boyfriend was perfect; he was definitely “the one.” And that family vacation to Disney World in 2003 was the most magical week of my life. I don’t remember any tears or blisters.
I recall past events with fondness now that they exist only as ghosts in my memory or photographs on the pages of an old yearbook. And they should be remembered fondly, because good things have happened to me. It’s so easy though, to sometimes forget all of the bad and replay only those good moments, and convince myself that life will never be the same. In a world where we are constantly searching for the best years of our lives, we forget to think about the ones that haven’t happened yet. I’ll probably always be kind of retro, and perpetually nostalgic for the decades I missed out on, but as far as my life goes, there’s no reason to think that I need to go back. Nobody really wants to be thirteen again anyway.