Welcome

Where were you in 2016?

If your feed suddenly looks like it’s running on iOS 9, you’re not imagining it. The internet has decided that “2026 is the new 2016”—Snapchat filters, grainy selfies, bomber jackets, and all. Plus, TikTok is full of Purple Rain-themed reminiscing and a steady hum of political commentary that treats the culture war like prestige TV—binge-able, enraging, and hard to turn off.

In other words: this weeks trends are about how people cope when the present feels unstable—by going backward, laughing at their bank balance, or doom-scrolling democracy as content.

In honor of 2016, an early Instagram posts from my days as a newspaper editor, which I captioned “#attheoffice @nespresso.” 🤦🏻‍♀️

With care,
Enid

This week 🗓️

📺 Romanticizing Regression: “2016 is the New 2026”

🧩 What’s happening:

A viral social media trend, “2026 is the new 2016,” is flooding socials with throwback photos, filters, and stories from ten years ago. Users and celebrities are sharing 2016-era looks, songs, and screenshots, calling it the “golden age” of internet culture. After years of mining the ’90s and early Y2K, we’ve made it to mid-2010s aesthetics—oversaturated photos, early influencer energy, and pre-pandemic social life.

💬 Why it matters for therapists:

This isn’t just about fashion cycles; it’s about longing for a version of self and society that felt more coherent—if only because nearly everything does in retrospect. Nostalgia is a sign that the past feels more hopeful than the future. The 2016 focus is specifically tied to pre-pandemic life, less AI, and earlier-stage social media, which collectively function as a psychological “before” picture.

🪞 How past-life nostalgia may show up in the room:

  • Idealizing specific eras of self (“I was so much more fun/attractive/confident back then”).

  • Revisiting of old chats, photos, or exes—often accompanied by shame or confusion.

  • A sense that now is irreparably worse, with a subtle grief that’s hard to name.

🛋️ What therapists can do:

  • Name nostalgia as a regulating strategy. Explore how looking back soothes the nervous system—and where it tips into avoidance.

  • Differentiate between “missing who I was” vs. “missing what I had” vs. “missing who I thought I’d become.”

  • Normalize that ten-year cycles of nostalgia are developmentally predictable.

🔗 Go deeper:

💡 The bottom line:

The trend functions as a half-joke, half-sincere wish to rewind to a time before COVID, AI saturation, and today’s political fatigue.

💜 “Weekend Lover:” Situationship Grief Gets the Spotlight

@grosslarddoghouse

another life tho

🧩 What’s happening:

Thanks to the finale of Stranger Things, “Purple Rain” is having a full-body cultural comeback on social media (a la “Running Up That Hill” from last season). It’s not the soaring chorus that’s everywhere—it’s a single line: “I never wanted to be your weekend lover.” Creators are using that lyric as the soundtrack for relationship confessionals and tributes to "situationships" that had the emotional weight of a marriage but the labels of a friendship, validating the pain of endings that technically "weren't breakups." 

💬 Why it matters for therapists:

For many clients, the line “weekend lover” crystallizes something they’ve struggled to name: “I wasn’t nothing, but I also wasn’t chosen.” That’s attachment work in disguise. Attachment systems do not distinguish between "official" and "unofficial" partners—the nervous system bonds regardless of the title.

🪞 How situationship grief may show up in the room:

  • Delayed grief over a relationship they “weren’t allowed” to treat as real because there was no label.

  • Confusion about whether they were exploited, complicit, or both in a not-quite-ethical dynamic.

  • Harsh self-talk: “I was dumb enough to…” or “I should’ve known better.”

🛋️ What therapists can do:

  • Name relationship ambiguity as real attachment experience.

  • Explore relational templates. Where else in their history has this feeling shown up?

  • Alternative avenues to “closure:” write an unsent letter, or narrative work that stays inside therapy instead of on the For You Page.

🔗 Go deeper:

💡 The bottom line:

Leave it to Prince to put words to the ambiguous grief of half-defined, half-hidden relationships. It’s attachment theory gold.

🫣 Politics vs Content: When the Culture War Becomes the Show

🧩 What’s happening:

A new Vox piece argues that one reason American politics is “broken” is that the entertainment value of it got too good. News has leaned into more emotional, culture-war-oriented programming to compete for attention. Recent research suggests that this coverage doesn’t just reflect voter priorities—it helps shift them toward social and cultural issues.

Many people experience politics less as civic life and more as never-ending content: episodes, scandals, and plot twists.

💬 Why it matters for therapists:

Clients are not just consuming the news; they are living inside a 24/7 story about threat, betrayal, and identity. That has mental health consequences: chronic stress and burnout, polarized family systems, and moral injury in clients who care deeply about justice but feel ineffective. When politics is framed like a show, opting out can feel selfish, while staying engaged often feels overwhelming.

🪞 How it may show up in the room:

  • Doom-scrolling with a sense of obligation: “If I look away, I’m part of the problem.”

  • Clients reporting physical symptoms (sleep disruption, tension, migraines) around news cycles, elections, or court decisions.

  • Ruptures with friends/family over “values” that are actually media-amplified identity markers.

🛋️ What therapists can do:

  • Validate the emotional and somatic load of an always-on culture war in the news.

  • Use values-based work to ask: “Who do you want to be in relation to this?” rather than “What side are you on?”

  • Help clients design media boundaries (time windows, content breaks, trusted sources) that honor their nervous system and their ethics.

🔗 Go deeper:

💡 The bottom line:

When politics becomes content, people start relating to it the way they relate to a TV show: bingeing, rage-watching, or checking out entirely.

👋 Don’t be a stranger

I started this newsletter to give therapists a quick, culture-literate brief they could actually use in the room.

If this issue made you think of a colleague, forward it to them or share a link in your consultation group. That’s how this little corner of the internet keeps growing.

If you’d like to connect or share how this shows up in your practice, I’d love to hear from you.

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