The Internet Misses 2016. My Nervous System Doesn’t.

Lately, social media has been saying that 2026 is the new 2016.

People are posting throwback pictures. Old playlists. Snapchat filters. Outfits from ten years ago. Talking about how carefree life felt back then. How fun the internet was. How everything seemed lighter.

So I went back and looked at my photos.

And I realized…I don’t remember much good.

What I remember is grief.What I remember is silence.What I remember is exhaustion.

In 2016, my friend Tyrell was murdered.In 2016, I was in a verbally and mentally abusive relationship.In 2016, I had a job that drained the life out of me so badly that when grief and burnout collided, I stopped talking for three months — and nobody even noticed.

I don’t know how I managed to survive that year.I truly don’t.

Somehow, I’m here…ten years later. Still standing. Still believing. Still trying.But when people say “the new 2016,” my body flinches.

Because for some of us, 2016 wasn’t nostalgia.It was survival.

The internet is remembering an aesthetic.I’m remembering a season.

And maybe that’s why this feels so heavy. Because when you’ve lived through trauma, your memory doesn’t come back as highlight reels. It comes back as tension in your shoulders. As a knot in your stomach. As a quiet voice that says, we barely made it out.

I recently rewatched Pastor Dharius’ sermon, Victory Is Mine, and one line stayed with me:

That hit me because it’s true.

If I look back at what I survived — abuse, grief, burnout, heartbreak, loss — then no, my life right now isn’t harder than that.But I am tired.

Tired of always having to be strong.Tired of always having to push through.Tired of being resilient by default.Tired of carrying things quietly.

And I think that’s what this moment is really stirring up for me.

Not fear of the future.But a deep prayer for something new.

I don’t want another season of endurance.I don’t want another chapter that requires me to disappear into survival mode.I don’t want to keep proving how much I can handle.

I want ease.I want safety.I want joy that doesn’t come after suffering.I want rest that doesn’t require permission.

I want a life that feels gentle.

So when people say “2026 is the new 2016,” I know what they mean.But I’m praying for something different.

I’m praying for a year that doesn’t look like my past.I’m praying for a season that doesn’t demand my strength.I’m praying for new mercies, new peace, new beginnings.

Because I’ve already proven I can survive.

Now I want to live.

All Is Well (or not),Ashlee