The reunion temptation, when nostalgia becomes a trap, by Stephanie Shaakaa
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At a reunion in Abuja last year, an old classmate excused herself from the hall in tears. She had just discovered that a private moment she thought was safe had already become a running joke in a WhatsApp group. For her, it was a wound. For others, it was entertainment. That is the dangerous chemistry of nostalgia. It makes adults act like reckless teenagers again.
Nostalgia is not memory. It is seduction in disguise.
There is a peculiar magic at school reunions. The laughter is louder, the hugs tighter, the nicknames sweeter. For a few hours, time bends backward and men and women in their forties and fifties slip back into the skins of their teenage selves. They relive old jokes, punishments, crushes, and rivalries. It feels like a safe return to innocence until the illusion breaks.
Because reunions are not innocent. They are collisions between the past and the present, where memory and reality lock into a dangerous dance. No one walks into that hall as the same child who once sat in a classroom. People return with new bodies, new freedoms, new wounds, new statuses. The boy who once hid at the back of the class is now a CEO. The shy girl is now magnetic and confident. Some return married, some divorced, some widowed, and others single. Each status becomes a lens for curiosity and temptation.
It does not take much for old sparks to reignite. The crush that once felt unreachable suddenly feels possible. There are no school rules, no teachers to intervene. Money is no longer a barrier. Hotel rooms are easier to book than excuses once were. And so, what begins as nostalgia slides into indulgence.
The tragedy is that many return with adolescent mindsets trapped in adult bodies. The men boast again, reliving their teenage swagger. The women, whether single, married, or divorced, find old feelings resurfacing, often mistaking them for rediscovery. But what one person sees as a second chance at tenderness, another treats as a secret fling. That mismatch is where devastation begins.
Psychologists warn that nostalgia is powerful because it distorts judgment. It tricks the mind into romanticizing the past while underestimating the risks of the present. A laugh, a drink, a memory, all harmless at first, can lead to consequences that are anything but. The past always looks safer in hindsight until it walks into your life and sets fire to your present. And the aftermath is cruel. Mistakes made in whispers soon roar in public. Photos leak. Stories spread. Secrets travel faster than they ever did in school corridors. For one person, it was just a fling. For another, it was everything. The heartbreak that follows is raw. The bitterness lingers. And reputations, built carefully over decades, collapse in a single reckless weekend.
IIt takes a lifetime to build trust and one careless night to dismantle it.
This is not just theory. Marriages have quietly broken under the weight of reunion stories. Families have been strained. Careers have faltered. Homes have gone cold. And yet, many will insist they only came to catch fun. But nostalgia does not announce its claws until it is too late.
Still, reunions are not doomed. They can be powerful when approached with wisdom. They can birth business partnerships, spark social causes, and revive genuine friendships. They can remind us of who we once were without tempting us to undo who we have become. The problem is not the event itself. The problem is walking into it unprepared, with no guard against the seduction of memory. Reunions prove one thing. The past is never really past. It waits quietly, and when it resurfaces, it can either heal or destroy.
So go. Laugh. Reminisce. Take the pictures. Relive the stories. But carry with you the discipline of your years, not the recklessness of your youth. Because not every spark deserves to be reignited. Not every smile is innocent. Not every memory belongs in the present. If you must return to the corridors of your youth, return wiser. Go for the laughter, stay for the memories, but never gamble your future on the ghosts of yesterday.
Because nostalgia does not knock gently. It barges in, rearranges your life, and leaves you wondering how one weekend managed to steal everything you thought was secure.
Because the past is a firefly. Beautiful from a distance, glowing with the light of memory, but dangerous to cup in your hands. If you chase it too long, it will burn away the future you were meant to protect.
Nostalgia does not care about your marriage, your children, or your reputation. It only cares about dragging you back into the mud you once crawled out of. And when it is done, it will leave you to explain to the world why you destroyed your own life for a joke called old times.
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