In a heartfelt nod to the high school seniors of 2020, many of us in our 30s and 40s have taken to social media to share our own senior year photos. While it’s nice to reminisce about the past, I find it perplexing and ultimately unnecessary to join this trend. The reality is that a pandemic won’t change my feelings about showcasing an 18-year-old version of myself on social media.
Let’s be honest: Are today’s high school seniors really interested in seeing throwback images of their parents or their parents’ friends? I doubt it. Instead, they are busy engaging on platforms like TikTok and Discord, while we find ourselves squabbling with the “Karens” of the comment sections on Facebook. The class of 2020 has faced a unique set of challenges, losing traditional milestones like prom and graduation, and I struggle to see how sharing a decades-old photo could resonate with them.
If I were to dig out my own senior photo, it would bring back memories that aren’t all that pleasant. I was a terrified teenager grappling with my identity in a turbulent home life. At that time, I was wrestling with suicidal thoughts, dealing with bullying due to my dental issues, and trying to express myself with a hairstyle that was a confusing mix of mullet and pixie cut. Yet, I smiled in my letterman jacket, pretending that everything was okay.
While I no longer have those photos—having lost them during my parents’ divorce—I don’t need them to remember who I was. I’ve moved on from that chapter of my life. I’m not that person anymore. Now, I’m a queer, transgender parent of three, navigating life after marriage and divorce, and focusing on my recovery from alcoholism. I’ve found new love, acceptance, and a body I’m proud of. The only weight I care to recall from those old photos is that found on my chest, which has changed significantly for the better.
I realize that some might view my refusal to share my senior picture as hypocritical, especially since I’ve spent a fair amount of time discussing personal reasons for not posting. But the core of this conversation should be about the high school seniors who feel they’ve lost so much. Sharing old photos can feel like a reminder of what they are missing, much like a recent breakup victim being bombarded with images of happy couples.
My hope is that this pandemic can lead to new, meaningful memories for today’s graduates. They don’t need to see photos from the ‘90s that remind them of what they’ve lost. They deserve space to grieve and to forge their own paths moving forward. If you want to read more about how others are navigating similar experiences, check out this insightful post on home insemination.
In conclusion, while nostalgia has its place, I am choosing to focus on the present and the future, rather than revisiting the past. It’s essential for the class of 2020 to carve out their own unique experiences, free from comparisons to previous generations.