There’s something oddly comforting once you realize you can miss something and still not want it back. On the surface, it sounds like a contradiction. How can you long for something and yet not want it again? But after reflecting on it for a while, I think it’s more of a quiet truth that comes with time.
We all have chapters in our lives that we are nostalgic for. A relationship that made us feel alive, even if it wasn’t built to last. A job that brought excitement and purpose, even if it also brought burnout. A version of us that seemed more carefree, more spontaneous, and less weighed down by responsibility. Moments from our childhood or simpler times.
Sometimes those memories sneak up on us, through a song, a scent, or a photo, and we feel the tug. We miss the laughter, the thrill, the simplicity, and the people. We may catch ourselves thinking about “the good old days,” even if we know deep down, they weren’t quite as perfect as we remember. And then there’s fear of missing out (FOMO), which may pop up like an uninvited guest to make us wonder if we left too soon and if we are missing out by not trying to get it back. That’s the trap of FOMO: it focuses on what might be missing instead of what’s present, and often, what’s present is a life that fits us better now.
Missing something doesn’t mean we need it back. Sometimes, what we’re really missing is how we felt during that time, not the thing itself. The person, place, or path might have had its magic, but it also had limitations that fade into the background when we remember the good times. But growth lets us remember with affection while living with intention. It lets us say, “That mattered,” while also saying, “That’s not for me anymore.”
I’ve had moments where I looked back at an old job or an old version of my life and felt a pang of longing. But then I remember the parts I don’t miss, the things I tolerated, the compromises I made, the energy it took just to stay afloat. That clarity is a gift. It means I’m no longer trying to force myself to fit into something I’ve outgrown.
The beautiful part is that missing something doesn’t mean we’re stuck. It means we’re human. It means we’ve lived; we’ve cared, and we’ve been shaped by experiences that left their mark. The key is letting that memory become part of who you are without giving it the power to lead you.
“You can love a memory and still let it go.” — Morgan Harper Nichols
If you’ve ever found yourself in that strange space, missing something but not wanting it back, you’re not alone. Share your “miss it, but nope” story, pass this along to someone else who’s grown past the good old days, or just give yourself a little credit for how far you’ve come. Growth looks good on you.
Have a great weekend
Vijay