Even though life has mostly gone back to normal for most people, a lot of us haven’t quite moved on.
The pandemic changed how we think, how we cope, and how we connect, both with other people and with ourselves. And while we may not talk about it as much anymore, the emotional weight didn’t just disappear. Here are some of the ways we’re all still recovering, even if we don’t always realise it.
1. Socialising still feels more draining than it used to.
Before the pandemic, we might have gone out a few times a week without thinking twice. Now, even one small gathering can leave people feeling worn out. It’s not that the whole of society has suddenly become introverted. Instead, it seems to be based on a change in how we use our energy.
After so much time in isolation, many people are more sensitive to noise, small talk, or crowded spaces. That doesn’t mean they’re antisocial now. It just means their social battery runs out faster than it did before everything changed.
2. We still carry an underlying sense of uncertainty.
For a long time, we didn’t know what was coming next—another lockdown, another variant, another round of changes. Even now, many people live with a subtle, low-grade sense of “what if” hanging in the background. That level of uncertainty makes it harder to plan long-term, trust in stability, or feel safe putting down roots. The lingering caution isn’t just overthinking; it’s a learned response after years of disruption.
3. We’re more emotionally protective than before.
During the pandemic, many people learned to retreat emotionally just to survive. They became selective about who they shared space with, what they invested in, and how much energy they gave away. That protective mindset didn’t disappear overnight.
Now, even in close relationships, there can be a quiet hesitancy to go all-in emotionally. It’s not coldness; it’s a defence built from exhaustion, loss, and unpredictability. Healing means learning to feel safe opening back up again.
4. Time feels blurry and weirdly compressed.
People still joke about “losing a year” or feeling like 2020 was just yesterday, but there’s real truth in that. Many still struggle to place events in time, or feel like the last few years passed in a fog. This distortion isn’t laziness. It’s how the brain processes prolonged stress and lack of routine. When everything blurs together, it makes it harder to reflect, make sense of things, or feel grounded in the present moment.
5. Our stress thresholds changed, sometimes for the worse.
People who used to juggle nonstop now find themselves overwhelmed by the smallest task. It’s not weakness—it’s recalibration. When you go through collective trauma, your brain learns to prioritise survival, not multitasking or high output. Many people are still learning how to feel safe doing more than the bare minimum again. It’s not about laziness; it’s about rebuilding capacity from a nervous system that’s been on high alert for too long.
6. We value slow, quiet moments more than ever.
One of the few gifts of the pandemic was the space it forced into our lives. With everything paused, a lot of people realised how tired they were—of commuting, of overstimulation, of constant productivity. Now, things like walks, slow mornings, or a quiet evening feel more nourishing than ever. There’s a collective move toward valuing stillness over speed, and it’s one that many people aren’t in a rush to give up again.
7. Many of us still feel grief we haven’t processed.
Some people lost loved ones. Others lost routines, jobs, major life milestones, or just a version of themselves that felt more carefree. That grief didn’t magically resolve when lockdowns ended—it just got quieter. Even years later, that sense of loss lingers in strange ways. It might show up as sadness for no clear rreason, or feeling “off” during anniversaries you didn’t expect to remember. Healing takes time, and many people are still in the middle of it.
8. We’ve become more aware of what doesn’t feel worth it anymore.
Being stuck at home gave people a new lens for what really matters. Old routines, draining friendships, or constant busyness stopped making sense when everything fell away, and that realisation stuck.
Now, there’s less tolerance for anything that feels performative or exhausting. People are quicker to walk away from things that don’t bring peace. It’s not about being difficult; it’s about choosing what feels aligned after years of being stretched too thin.
9. Many of us feel more socially awkward or unsure.
After so much isolation, things like making small talk, navigating groups, or even answering texts can feel weirdly loaded. People second-guess themselves more—“Was I too much?” “Did that come off weird?” “Am I being annoying?” That self-consciousness doesn’t mean someone lacks social skills. It’s just the after-effect of having normal rhythms disrupted for so long. Confidence in connection takes time to rebuild, and that’s okay.
10. We’re still learning how to feel safe in our bodies again.
During the pandemic, our bodies became a source of stress—something to monitor, protect, or fear. Every cough, every ache, every moment in a crowd carried tension. That hyper-awareness left a mark.
Now, even if the risk has changed, some people still live with that internalised anxiety. Reconnecting with the body as a source of safety, not just survival, is still a work in progress. And for many, that healing is happening quietly, in the background of everyday life.
