With turmoil all around us, maybe it comes as no surprise that Gen Z feel so nostalgic for the past?
Two months ago, I turned 22! I spent the week in Paris with one of my closest friends, Isabelle. We explored, shopped, went to museums, ate gorgeous food, chatted, drank lots of wine, reminisced on the past and spoke about our dreams for the future.
Spending my 22nd birthday with someone who has been my friend since my 14th birthday is such a blessing, especially since she is the best Paris tour guide I could ask for.
Whilst we were away, we were talking about nostalgia. I have always been a very nostalgic person, always the first to say “remember when…” or “it was so fun when we…”. I get excited about an event before getting sad that I’ll miss it before it’s even happened.
Something is comforting and joyful about revisiting old memories: the laughter, the inside jokes, the adventures that feel like they shaped who you are. The world sometimes feels like it is slipping between my fingers, things changing and seemingly getting worse with each headline, so grasping onto memories tethers me to something I love and lived through.

It is a beautiful thing to have so many wonderful, funny, special, exciting moments to want to spend time dwelling over, but sometimes it makes me forget that the moment I’m living in right now is one I once dreamt of.

Sitting in Paris, drinking wine and chatting about GCSEs and dreams for the future, I realised that 14-year-old me would have been utterly happy to see the life I was living. Yet in the moment, I almost forgot to fully appreciate it.
Isabelle didn’t entirely share my tendency toward nostalgia, but I don’t think I’m alone. Many of us, especially Gen Z, carry this constant sense of longing, a mix of sentimentality and FOMO for times that feel just out of reach. We scroll through old photos, binge retro shows, or listen to songs from a decade ago, chasing the warmth of memories we never want to forget.
Part of it is the digital world we grew up in. Almost every moment of our childhood is preserved online, in photos, videos, old apps, YouTube clips, or memes, making it easy to revisit and relive the past. Rapid cultural change also plays a role; the world seems to shift faster than ever, and looking back at simpler times, like rewatching The Summer I Turned Pretty or Sex and the City, or reliving childhood shows and early-2000s cartoons, offers a sense of comfort and stability. Not to mention the constant resurgence of vintage fashion.

There’s also a huge appetite for coming-of-age stories, even for twenty-two-year-old women like me. We watch these shows not just for nostalgia but because they reflect universal experiences: the awkwardness of growing up, and the struggle to find your place in the world. These shows give us a safe space to process emotions we’re still navigating, even as adults. Watching characters stumble, dream, and grow reminds us that our own journeys, full of mistakes, triumphs, and “remember whens”, are valid and shared.
Part of why this resonates so deeply is that many of us are, in a way, afraid to grow up. Adulthood feels overwhelming: financial pressures, career uncertainty, and the weight of global issues make the freedom and simplicity of youth feel like a safe haven we’re reluctant to leave. Watching kids grow up on screen allows us to revisit experiences we’ve already conquered, offering a sense of security and control, rather than forcing us to confront a world we haven’t yet mastered. This “safe nostalgia” lets us indulge in growth from a distance, laughing, crying, and learning alongside characters who are slightly removed from our own lives, yet so familiar in their emotional truths.

Nostalgia isn’t just about missing the past; it’s a reminder of the richness of our lives and the experiences that have shaped us. It teaches us to hold space for the moments we’re living now because one day, these moments too will be memories we long for.
So, while I’ll continue to drift into memories of laughter, travel, teenage dreams, and bingeing nostalgic shows, I’m also learning to sit in the now, savouring the very life I once imagined. Nostalgia isn’t a trap but a bridge between who we were, who we are, and who we hope to become. And for Gen Z, it’s also a soft landing pad: a way to face the adult world with curiosity and courage, even if we’re still clinging to a little piece of our younger selves along the way.
For now, I’ll still be scrolling through my camera roll….