Sacks was referring to specific points in the past, which we may cite as examples of nostalgia. But his comment reveals something deeper, which applies to obsessiveness, broadly, and perfectionism, specifically. Both often entail a preoccupation with a lost past, but one that substantially differs from anything resembling reality. While nostalgia romanticizes the past, it, at least, captures some part of it. With perfectionism, the longing is often for the possibilities of one's past, rather than for the past itself.
When I think back on my life, shyness feels like an inner prison I carried with me for years. Not a prison with bars and guards, but a quieter kind-made of hesitation, fear, and silence. It kept me standing still while life moved forward around me. One memory stays with me: my eighth-grade dance. The gym was alive with music, kids moving awkwardly but freely on the floor, laughing, bumping into one another, having fun.
I made choices that widened the distance between my mom and my daughter. My daughter's mom died when she was just 3 years and 5 months old in January 2001. When I remarried a year and a half later in July 2002, my wife's family became the center of all family gatherings. Since they lived closer than my mom, my daughter naturally gravitated more toward her stepmom's side.
