June 26, 2025
Do you have a high school (or other) reunion coming up?
Are you skipping it?
You wouldn’t be alone. Many people hesitate. Often, they pass and don’t even know why.
When I ask people why they don’t go to their reunions, they tell me the dates don’t work for them, it’s not convenient, they don’t want to pay to travel back home, they would feel awkward, or they don’t talk to “those kids” anymore.
I have a different theory. I think they actually don’t want to go because of an anchoring bias. Our tendency to fixate on an early version of something and struggle to see how it has changed.
We anchor on what high school felt like back then:
- The awkwardness.
- The social hierarchy.
- The mistakes we made (or the ones made toward us).
We have a negativity bias, so
Each one assumes everyone else is stuck in the past.
But not you, right? You’ve grown up so much since in the 5, 10, 15, 20, or even 25+ years since you walked those hallways. And maybe it’s hitting you right now. The people you feel awkward about have also been changing since their adolescence.
I like learning about psychology, behavior, and motivation. It makes me curious about how people have changed in the decades since we last saw each other, and these events are full of opportunities to learn about each other. Some people change completely. Others are just older versions of the people I knew back then. It’s fun to discover people all over again.
The Bias That Keeps You Stuck
Anchoring bias is a cognitive shortcut that helps us make judgments quickly. But it often keeps us from updating our assumptions, even when new information is available.
A 2023 study in Psychological Bulletin found that personal identities and memories make it especially difficult to overcome anchoring. That makes reunions perfect storms for this cognitive bias. We expect the people we see to be the same ones who knew us before we had careers, families, scars, and wisdom.
It’s easier to stay away than to confront the reality that everyone has grown, in ways big and small.
Regret and Rediscovery
I skipped my 10- and 15-year reunions.
At the time, I told myself it wasn’t important. But in hindsight, I missed something meaningful.
When I finally attended my 25th, it hit me: I’d been out of high school longer than I’d been alive when I graduated. Connecting with people I hadn’t seen in decades snapped me back to an age where I had so much wonder, but with the wisdom I’ve gathered since I left. Seeing them wasn’t awkward. It was grounding.
It’s an example of a Proustian moment, when a single sense can bring back a chain of other associated memories. If you value retrospection, those moments could be enough to convince you to go; they may be the only way to retrieve buried memories from your youth.
It was textbook nostalgia, which always carries a tinge of sadness. With so many old faces, I couldn’t catch up with all of them.
The Real Magic Isn’t in the Event
My one regret from the reunion? Not spending enough time with more people. I didn’t have a plan to truly reconnect with everyone I felt drawn to that night. Luckily, I realized we call it a reunion, but I vowed to turn it into an opportunity to reunite.
Reunions can spark something, but reuniting is a different beast. It’s easy to show up to an event, but everything afterwards matters more:
- Making the follow-up call.
- Introducing your kids to their kids.
- Texting just to say, “Hey, I was thinking about you.”
The deeper connections open space for conversations to evolve from GI Joe and geometry to careers, aging parents, M&A, and life lessons.
The Challenge
So, here’s what I’m suggesting:
If you’ve been avoiding your reunion, ask yourself why.
Is it really about time or distance?
Or is it the fear of seeing who you used to be?
Maybe that’s the best reason to go.
Not just to reunite with your classmates.
But to reunite with a part of yourself you’ve forgotten.
The younger you. The one before the career, the bills, the titles, and the setbacks.
That person still lives inside you. And they’ve got some unfinished conversations to finish.