"Oh yeah," I mused. "Oliver. That was so much fun! My god, that was a hundred years ago. I was 17 and so pretty then. And thin and smart and I had my whole life ahead of me." As I began to sink into good old nostalgia -- wishing I could experience the past again -- it hit me: do I really wish I could relive my high school years? And the answer was no.
Sure, as a high school senior I had freedom from adult problems and I had a boyfriend, the radiance of youth and the glamor of the Las Lomas High School auditorium stage, but I also had math analysis class, insecurity and a mother who regularly terrified me. At the age of 17, I had years of depression, self-loathing and painful family dynamics ahead of me. It would be three decades before I'd get enough of a handle on my self-esteem problems that I'd be strong enough to start living the life I really wanted. When I was 17, I still had graduate school in my future (shudder).
|Sophomore year 1982|
Don't fall for it. Nostalgia is a lie. It seduces us by recalling the emotions we constantly crave, when in reality, those emotions were interspersed with pain. No, the past isn't always better, even if we think re-doing it will get us to a better present day. Being in high school musicals are some of my best memories, but even though I'm 49 and three quarters years old, with a puffy face, a pudgy body and that invisibility that comes with being a middle aged woman, my youth was not better than my present. I wouldn't really want to go back to being 17 for anything in the world. Would you?