The Things We Never Got Back

It started with a two-week pause. A tiny break. A moment to breathe. Or so we thought.

But as the world shut down, we unknowingly crossed an invisible threshold—one that led to a life we’d never fully return from. Not everything from the pre-pandemic world made it back with us. Some things dissolved quietly, others went out with a bang, and a few—well, they’re still lurking in the shadows, waiting to see if we notice their absence.

The Handshake

There was a time when shaking hands was second nature—a silent contract of trust and respect. Now? It’s a high-stakes social gamble.

Do we shake? Fist bump? Nod politely? Accidentally miss the handshake and turn it into a weird, mid-air clasp? The fear of germs rewired our instincts, making us hyper-aware of every palm we touch. Some of us have fully committed to the European-style nod, while others hesitate, hovering awkwardly between gestures like a buffering Zoom call.

Handshakes used to be a sign of connection. Now, they feel like a relic from a past life. Maybe we never really needed them.

The Small Talk

There was a time when we knew how to chat about the weather, the weekend, or whatever mildly interesting thing happened at work. But after months (or years) of limited human interaction, small talk started feeling… exhausting.

Why discuss the rain when we can spiral into an existential crisis about the fragility of human existence? Why ask “How was your day?” when both of us know the real answer is “I scrolled Instagram for two hours and forgot how to be a person”?

We spent so long in our own heads that now, when forced to socialize, it’s like speaking a language we haven’t practiced in years. And the only thing worse than bad small talk? The fear that maybe, just maybe, we forgot how to make real conversation altogether.

The Casual Coolness of Staying In

Before 2020, declining an invitation was practically a crime. FOMO was real, and a Friday night without plans felt like social failure. Then came the pandemic, and suddenly, staying in became not only acceptable—it became the norm.

At first, it was nice. Cozy, even. The perfect excuse to embrace sweatpants, binge-watch everything, and proudly declare ourselves homebodies.

But now? The problem is, we never fully unlearned it. Even as the world reopened, the sheer effort of going out started to feel unnecessary. A dinner reservation requires planning. A party requires small talk. And let’s be honest, nothing will ever be as comfortable as ordering takeout and pretending to watch a movie while scrolling on our phones.

The Weird, Eternal Presence of Hand Sanitizer

In 2019, hand sanitizer was something you kept in your bag just in case. Maybe you used it before eating, or after touching something vaguely questionable. It was a bonus, not a necessity.

Now? Hand sanitizer is a lifestyle. A reflex.

An unconscious habit that we may never shake. We still judge places by whether they have it available at the entrance. We instinctively reach for it after touching elevator buttons. And if we ever find ourselves without it, it feels oddly wrong—like we’ve broken an unspoken rule of post-pandemic survival.

The Phantom Presence of Muted Zoom Calls

There was a time when we communicated without a mute button. Hard to believe, isn’t it?

COVID gave us the greatest social crutch of all time: the ability to mute ourselves at will.

Midway through a conversation and don’t know what to say? Mute. Need a second to think? Mute. Tired of participating but don’t want to leave? Mute and nod along dramatically.

The problem? We now crave the safety net. In real-life conversations, there’s no mute button to escape awkward silences. No “turn off camera” option to hide bad hair days. No “leave meeting” button to vanish without consequence. And some of us are still adjusting to that reality.

So, Where Does That Leave Us?

The world moved on, but we are still made of pandemic-era habits, shaped by the weirdness of those in-between years. Some changes were necessary. Some were inevitable. And some, well… some we just never unlearned.

Maybe that’s okay. Maybe we were never meant to go back exactly as we were. Maybe handshakes were just a social placeholder, and maybe the art of disappearing into our own space wasn’t such a bad skill to learn. Maybe some changes weren’t losses, just recalibrations.

Or maybe, years from now, we’ll stumble upon an old bottle of expired hand sanitizer in the bottom of a forgotten bag, and for a split second, we’ll remember—not just what we lost, but the strange, surreal way we learned to live.

Because if nothing else, COVID left us with one undeniable truth: the world before is a museum now. And we are the ones deciding what parts of it are worth keeping.