I just spent two weeks back in Toronto, in my old neighbourhood. And I went into it carrying a lot of feelings about being back there. In fact, I was kind of worried I wouldn’t come back. My husband feared he’d have to drag me home kicking and screaming.
At first, I loved it. The streets I knew. The people I missed. My favourite places. All that familiarity. I could remember it all like it was yesterday. Like no time had passed.
But that didn’t last as long as I thought it would. I realized I was happy to be there.
But I was happier to come home. Which was... confusing.
Because I’ve missed Toronto since we moved. I’ve had a hard time calling somewhere else home. So how could I miss something that much and, when I finally had it in front of me again, realize I didn’t actually want it back?
Naturally, I went looking for an explanation. And it turns out our memories are much messier than I thought. And this time I can’t blame brain fog.
Memory isn’t a recording we file away and replay later. When we remember something, our brains reconstruct it from where we are now. And the emotions attached to those memories can change too.
There’s even something called the fading affect bias. Research suggests the negative emotions associated with memories tend to fade faster than the positive ones.
Which explains quite a bit.
That amazing old job? Somehow Sunday night dread isn’t as vivid anymore.
That old relationship? Funny how the lovely bits can remain beautifully preserved while the I was bloody miserable portion becomes slightly less vivid.
And then there’s nostalgia. I think I’ve always interpreted nostalgia as evidence. I miss this, therefore some part of me must want it back.
Except that isn’t necessarily what nostalgia means.
We can miss something because it mattered. Because it was part of us. Because people we loved were there. Because we were somebody there.
Going back gave me something my memories couldn’t: new information.
I could love the life I had there. I could miss parts of it enormously. And I could still not want it back.
All three could be true.
And once I started thinking about that, Toronto became almost beside the point. Because we do this with relationships. Friendships. Careers. Our children being little. Our younger bodies. Who we were before menopause. Who we were before something happened that changed us.
Sometimes we miss those versions of our lives so bloody much. But that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re supposed to recreate them.
Maybe one of the interesting things about getting older is that we finally have enough life behind us to look back and say:
Huh. I see that differently now.
Not better. Not worse. Just differently.
And sometimes you have to go back to realize you’ve actually moved on.
Watch this week’s Brain Camp above.
And I’m curious: What do you miss that you know you don’t actually want back?
The research behind this Brain Camp
1. The fading affect bias
This is the research behind your point that the negative feelings attached to autobiographical memories often fade faster than the positive feelings. Walker, Skowronski and Thompson review multiple studies demonstrating the effect. Sage Journals
Life Is Pleasant and Memory Helps to Keep It That Way, Review of General Psychology
2. Memory isn’t simply a recording of what happened
A 2023 review describes autobiographical memory as a dynamic, reconstructive process that is continually updated and incorporates later information, interpretation and meaning. That’s a very good source for the point you make about remembering the past from where we are now. PubMed
Accuracy and Reconstruction in Autobiographical Memory, PubMed
3. Nostalgia can help connect our past and present selves
This research found that nostalgia can increase what psychologists call self-continuity, essentially our sense that the person we were then and the person we are now are connected. DOI
Nostalgia Counteracts Self Discontinuity and Restores Self Continuity
4. Nostalgia, social connection and wellbeing
Across six experiments, researchers found that nostalgia fostered self-continuity partly by increasing feelings of social connectedness. That’s particularly relevant to your experience of returning to the old neighbourhood and seeing familiar people and places. PubMed
