From ‘Throwback Thursdays’ and ‘Flashback Fridays’ to Facebook Memories and the more current Instagram ‘photo dump’, social media is a hub for memory sharing and reflection. We know that people are spending a lot of time on these platforms and engaging with these trends: 2025 statistics find that on average, two hours and twenty-three minutes are spent on social media per day. The appeal of these features and trends is understandable; reliving old, pleasant memories and encouraging others to do so can be fun and even have other benefits for our mental health and quality of life. But is it possible that taking nostalgia and the past into the realm of social media is actually impacting the way that we remember? 

I think that nostalgia is highly valuable, and that its value lies in its pure, original form. It can be important in reminding us of who we are, what makes us happy, and who is important to us. Research suggests that nostalgia actually plays an important role in promoting greater meaning of life for those who engage with it regularly, reminding them of the people they are close to, those whom they have shared happy memories with, and of those happy memories themselves. It is also a source of inspiration to keep creating social bonds and enjoyable memories to feel nostalgic for, which can be especially great for our mental health.  

Nostalgia can be a critical source of comfort and inspiration when we find ourselves in new and daunting environments, one that can always be called upon in times of loneliness and uncertainty. I found it highly valuable when I moved to St Andrews – it is easy to feel negative emotions when we undergo large transitions, especially when we leave home and everything else so familiar to us. But when we feel down, reflecting on things that have made us happy before can put us on the right track to find them again.   

Engaging in nostalgia is moving away from being an intimate activity, one reflected on personally or perhaps discussed with close friends and family. Now, social media has twisted nostalgia into a measurable commodity. These platforms offer a new environment in which to share and reflect on a larger scale than ever before; when we upload photos and videos to social media, they become subjected to a new measure of value in the form of like counts, comments, and shares. Interview-based research by Benjamin Jacobsen and David Beer suggests this distorted value system is also applicable to the memories that we post, finding that the ‘like economy’ of social media has the capacity to alter our memories, and even how attached we are to them. This is because people have begun to associate the memories they upload with the level of engagement they receive. But how can we apply other people’s opinions to our own deeply personal experiences? This detracts from the value measurement they should have – our emotional connections to them, or how happy they made us.  

Seeing the like counts on other people’s posts can also have the effect of making memory sharing a comparative experience, sometimes even competitive.  In 2021, Instagram introduced a tool which allows their users to hide the like count on their posts if they so wish. This is certainly a step in the right direction, shifting focus from numbers and popularity to instead encourage the more wholesome aspect of sharing and reminiscing. However, this is an optional tool that many social media users do not opt for, and those who upload a post with this tool enabled still have private access to the number of likes they received. This means that the problem of numbers remains, creating the perfect atmosphere for comparison and approval-seeking which can warp the positive way we reflect on our memories. 

The very process of selection that comes with sharing a memory on social media can also shift the importance of a memory from what was the most fun or wholesome to what is the most aesthetically pleasing or will get the greatest number of likes. This can even carry into the process of memory making itself by putting pressure on capturing a good picture to post later. This selective and aesthetic-driven process encourages us to be far less present in the moment when the memory is actually being made, tarnishing the pure, personal, and wholesome nature of nostalgia afterwards. 

Social media is an undeniable presence in our lives, and it is ridiculous to propose that everyone must reject it (not that I discourage that idea…). I argue instead that we should be careful what we share on social media and be aware of how it is affecting us. It is important to have aspects of life that remain untouched by social media and the metric that places value on aesthetics over meaning, because that will allow us to remain individual. Nostalgia should stay personal – it isn’t only a pathway to the past, but it can inform our future too.