Think of the last time you had a Snapchat memory flashback pop up as a notification or scrolled through your Instagram archived posts. Usually, there’s an instant flash of embarrassment that often makes us treat our past selves like something to hide or erase indefinitely.
There’s a modern impulse to scrub our digital footprint, the trail we leave behind through our online activities, clean from existence. Yet, doing so erases who we once were, and it strips us of a valuable tool for understanding who we are becoming.
That initial reaction, whether it’s cringe, humiliation or maybe even nostalgia, overlooks the true value of having those moments to look back on. Instead of looking at our digital footprints as something to be ashamed of, we need to redefine old memories as valuable time capsules proving how far we’ve grown — or where we’ve stayed the same. They offer us an active tool to help us chart our present and future selves.
Undoubtedly, many of us have posted things that we wish could never be dug up again. Whether it was the anonymous messaging app we’d post to our Snapchat stories, YOLO, or our Instagram feed adorned with flower crowns, chokers and an unhealthy reliance on face filters, we each have our fair share of regret. But it doesn’t have to be something to feel embarrassed about. In fact, Generation Z has made this shared generational embarrassment as something to take with a light heart and an open mind.
Collectively, on TikTok, many users post their old lip-syncing Musical.ly videos, or have even made new trends based around commemorating our awkward early internet phases. For example, social media users and celebrities are treating the year 2026 as the new 2016, honoring all the digital relics of a decade prior, from chaotic lip-syncs to unhinged, unedited thoughts and opinions. Some of this resurgence can simply be attributed to the natural cycle of trends, as seen with the revival of the color teal, animal prints or making social media casual again, because aesthetics inherently come back around. Yet, the comparisons to 2016 also seem to reflect a growing realization that, in many ways, life once felt simpler.
When people revisit a period of their lives that now feel distant, they gain the ability to see their younger selves from a new perspective; beyond providing a reason to be able to laugh about our past, these digital records keep us honest. Our brains have a tendency to rewrite our own history.
Our brains prefer to forget when we were, admittedly, unpolished, and sometimes they smooth over past struggles to convince ourselves that we’ve always been as wise or grown as we are right now. The old videos and posts become evidence of a person who had different interests, insecurities and expectations for the future, and that perspective can be especially meaningful at a time when so much of our identity is shaped online and constantly updated. So, our digital footprints create a visible record of our progression as people, showing us how far we’ve actually come and keeping us honest about where we actually started.
Every past version of ourselves is still significant to us in some way, and I don’t think we should completely abandon everything that we were just because we got older and times change.
But, unfortunately, digital footprints are not always harmless records of our growth. As we’ve seen with many celebrities and influencers, sometimes they contain racist, homophobic or other harmful views that should not continue circulating simply because they’re a part of someone’s past. The ability to delete something from the internet can be an important form of accountability, particularly when keeping it publicly accessible may insult others.
However, there is a meaningful difference between removing something because it is harmful and removing something simply because we don’t want to dig up who we used to be. There are many people who don’t believe in looking at things from their past because they believe dragging up old photos consequently digs up past versions of ourselves that may reopen old wounds or keep us from being in the present. But I believe that a life fully lived shouldn’t mean erasure; pretending that our former selves never existed deprives us of seeing how far we’ve come, no matter how embarrassing or potentially emotional it may be.
Actively reflecting on our unedited digital past is a vital mechanism for continuous self-improvement. Recognizing all that we once were gives us the psychological confidence to keep growing, serving as active proof that our current flaws are not permanent traits either, but merely temporary stages. While some argue that preserving old posts is unnecessary, unearthing those uncomfortable and pivotal moments is precisely where the benefit lies.
Reopening the past allows us to examine it with present-day maturity, helping us learn from past missteps to prevent us from blindly repeating them. Confronting the raw evidence of who we used to be doesn’t have to reopen old wounds for the sake of humiliation, or force us back into the past, but can instead serve as a healthy reminder that growth is always possible.
The next time an old, embarrassing photo with an absurd caption accompanying it pops up, don’t rush to close it or delete it. Instead, pause and relive that moment of your life to appreciate the growth you’ve experienced thus far, or maybe let it lead you to realize that you may still have some more growing to do.
Sophia Franco is an Opinion Columnist writing about social media’s impact on our everyday lives. She can be reached at sifranco@umich.edu.
