I first experienced the pangs of time travel last month over pedicures.
My friend gushed excitedly about this app she was using, Time Hop, and how hilarious it was, how I just had to download it. Before I could ask what exactly Time Hop was, she had reached for my phone and loaded it onto my phone. Intrigued, I opened it for the first time, and was immediately repelled.
On my screen was a cringe-worthy “I-think-I’m-cool” Facebook status that I vaguely remember posting six years ago. Six years ago! Six years ago, another version of me owned this Facebook. And let me tell you, I had really owned it.
It went on and on: photos and statuses, each tinged with nostalgia and regret. I re-experienced several years of questionable Halloween costumes, and several friends’ questionable comments on each. I learned that I am the original creator of the so-called Irish exit, or leaving a party quietly and drunkenly without saying good-bye to anyone. This was evident in all of the “Where did you go lol lol ?” posts on my wall. Ugh.
I had tried to bury all of the old me with the new me, but it hadn’t worked.
At a certain point, I had done a complete overhaul in my life; I had traded in my friends for shiny new ones. I had quieted down with the party lifestyle, I had gotten married. This time hopping was putting me face to face with who I had been, and I was a little uncomfortable with the reminder. I immediately felt sixteen. And eighteen. And twenty-one. And confused.
Anxious for the Time Hop Future Edition, I thought about how much has changed. Even in the last year, I’ve moved to a new country, started a new job, and have gotten married. My entire family is dispersed, scattered in a different way than they were one year ago. Instead of being discouraged by this much change, I am invigorated.
If this much happened in only one year, who’s to say that in another year, everything won’t change again? We have unlimited potential.
For now, I’ll keep my feet firmly planted in 2015 for at least a few more months. Cheers!