For Old Times Sake
On Familiarity and Nostalgia
I’m a creature of habit. I always have been, and I think I always will be.
I’ve had the same best friend since I was a baby, technically we’re cousins (black math). I always rotate my hairstyles in a particular order; twists, then cainrows and then cainrows into twists then repeat. On a night out, my drink of choice is either Hennessy, some kind of white rum or tequila. If it’s a sober night, it’s sprite because I don’t like the way Coca Cola feels on my teeth.
Finding Nemo was my favourite movie for years. It was the first thing I turned to when I fractured my leg at 7 years old because my cousin and I fell off the brick wall in her garden. It provided a perfect balance between angst and warmth. It was soon replaced by KC Undercover as my favourite comfort media. I have a habit of reaching out to people incessantly, even when the story is finished. Simply because my mind runs on them, and I find it hard to tell myself no and stick to it once an idea is already planted in my head.
I’ve never been good with change; there’s enough empirical evidence on this Substack to substantiate this claim. The unfamiliar is scary, it’s foreboding. But it’s pivotal for growth; I know this. It still doesn’t change the fact that I wish we could hold onto the familiar for that bit longer. You have to force yourself out of your comfort zone to advance, to move on from relationships that aren’t working, a job that isn’t serving you, an idea of yourself that no longer fits. Still, it doesn’t mean you don’t look back on it with a wistful smile. I think it’s great that we are encouraged to do better, to be better. Moving onwards is at the epicenter of this trend.
But for me, I will always have space for old times’ sake. There are too many things, too many people from the past which are foreign that used to be familiar, sources of comfort. I enjoy falling into rabbit holes of the past and rehashing old conversations. It feels like I’m reawakening a dormant part of myself that has been lost in evolution. It’s nice to say hi to her, and the familiar faces turned strange again.
Despite my subpar camera skills, I am something of a digital archivist. I love observing my childhood through a camera lens. It’s easier to construct your childhood memories and revisit them through pictures. It’s more digestible. Through pictures, I forget the larger-than-life emotions, or the crippling loneliness or the constant questioning why I wasn’t like everyone else. All that is conveyed is a happy, slightly self-conscious young girl who I wish would’ve ignored her underbite and smiled a bit more in pictures.
I saw a picture of my mum, my sister and I from 2016 yesterday. All I could think was this is so familiar. Despite it being nearly a decade ago, the bond between us captured in that moment looked the same as it does today. There was no longing to go back, just a desire to sit there for a while taking in every feature of the picture in front of me. A couple months ago, I spent all my time wishing to go back. To rewind and do things properly. I don’t have that suffocating desire anymore, but I do feel a little heaviness when I reflect on the past. I marvel at how things used to be and wish that I could swap places with the old me just once more to relive it again.
Familiarity is often regarded as something vapid. A useless feeling of sentiment that holds you back; to me, familiarity is a pleasure. It feels like rediscovering a song that defined a formative period of your life or sleeping soundly as a child in the backseat of your parents’ car until you feel that bend in the road that reminds you, you’re almost home and it’s time to start waking up.
Familiarity is never-ending “remember when” conversations that end in nothing but wide smiles and tight abdomens. It’s seeing a mention of an old tv show and remembering the character you adored and the ones you couldn’t stand. It’s automatically knowing which topics are a no-go and which areas make for light conversation even after years of not talking.
There are some things that will always be familiar. My older sister, the ice cream shop near my old accommodation, coming out stories, the end of family BBQs in the twilight of summer, season 1 of euphoria, watching Marcus Rashford play football, wearing my uncle’s yellow Court’s jersey, and listening to Blonde by Frank Ocean or Sonder Son by Brent Faiyaz. These things will never fade, they have become permanent fixtures in my life. I can always turn to them when in need of an injection of nostalgia and comfort.
I think the most sacred one is my older sister. She has loved me for 22 years. Through mutual tears, older sister pranks, busted lips, and poorly kept secrets from our parents. She has always been familiar. Recently, I had a panic attack at work, and calling out to her was automatic. I didn’t care that I was surrounded by students or that she was more than likely busy at her desk. There was only one person that would be able to bring me back down. She knows when to keep pressing and when to hold back. She kept me calm over the phone, forcing me to vocalise my worries, and then slowly dispelling each one with ease.
She’s so familiar. She has witnessed and helped curate every Adrienne that has existed to date. Adrienne that didn’t have any friends, Adrienne that struggled to adjust to new environments, Adrienne that stayed out every day and most importantly, Adrienne that would retreat to her older sister’s bed and curl up in silence when she was too upset to express what was wrong. Familiarity is safety. There is safety in someone knowing everything about you even if they don’t understand you. My sister is so familiar that trusting her is second nature. I can always trust her to see the current Adrienne and the past Adrienne that linger beneath the surface.
In sixth form, I would wear a tight afro puff every day. I would wake up and spend at least 15 minutes undoing my twists and then slicking my hair up with a shoelace and a mixture of gummy wax and eco styler. It was such a routine, that to this day my friend teases me about my ‘ballerina bun.’ Nevertheless, when I got home, I eased my hair out of the shoelace to let my afro breathe. Even from a superficial perspective, this was an example of familiarity and safety. A lengthy discussion can be had on black hair and presentation, which I will do at some point. But this anecdote was used to demonstrate how familiarity and safety intertwine.
In my home I could relax. I could be me, free to be whoever. That’s what familiarity breeds. People often say they feel trapped by nostalgia, and I understand. But some days I feel liberated. Sifting through the past and placing myself in the various mindsets I’ve occupied reminds me how much life there is and the extent of change. When I was 16, with my ballerina bun, I had no thoughts of university. I was barely making it through sixth form. And then came 17, still with the ballerina bun and now with dreams of Oxford. And then I was 18 focused on securing a summer internship and a graduate job. Now, I’m 21 and everything is different now but some memories, and some people from those years still feel familiar. If I look at a picture or a text message from those teenage years, I can still feel close to them, I can remember them vividly.
I think familiarity is another offshoot of love. Love is like a fig tree with all these beautiful branches of characteristics, consideration, softness, understanding, care etc. I think familiarity is one of the fruits of love because I like the simplicity of love. I had this conversation with my older cousin yesterday, I asked her how she knew she was in love. She said it was all about the little things, her partner showing up just when she needed it. I inferred that familiarity danced along these lines, you can only show up for someone in the way that they desire by knowing them. By spending time with them and making copious memories that their wants and needs become second nature, much like how mine are to my older sister.
Songs that remind me of familiarity and nostalgia:
Big Thief - Velvet Ring
The Smiths - The Old House
Ariana Grande - Tattooed Heart
Lucki - 2019
Ravyn Lenae - Love Me Not
Summer Walker - Shame
Beyonce - All Night
Brent Faiyaz - Home
Frank Ocean - Ivy
Frank Ocean - Forrest Gump
Adele - When We Were Young
Love this🥺