March 26, 2026

Going Back to Find What was Never Really Lost

Going Back to Find What was Never Really Lost

Going Back to Find What Was Never Really Lost

By Ann Kagarise

There’s something we don’t talk about enough.

The quiet pull to go back.

Back to the places we came from.
Back to the versions of ourselves we had to leave behind just to survive.
Back to the moments that shaped us… but never fully let us understand them.

This week on Real Talk with Tina and Ann, I sat with the story of Mario Cartaya—and I haven’t been able to shake it.

Because his journey isn’t just about returning to Cuba after 56 years.

It’s about something deeper.

It’s about what happens when you finally sit beside your younger self… and listen.


The Places That Still Live Inside Us

Mario built an incredible life.

Success. Recognition. Legacy.

From the outside, it looked complete.

But something inside him was still unfinished.

And I think if we’re honest… a lot of us know that feeling.

You can build a beautiful life and still feel like there’s a missing piece you can’t quite name.

Because success doesn’t replace understanding.
And time doesn’t automatically heal what was never processed.

Some parts of us stay frozen in the places we left behind.

Waiting.


When You Go Back, You’re Not Just Visiting a Place

You’re visiting a version of yourself.

The child who didn’t have the words.
The teenager who felt everything but couldn’t explain it.
The version of you who adapted, coped, and survived in the only way they knew how.

And here’s the truth that hit me while listening to Mario’s story:

Going back isn’t about changing the past.
It’s about finally understanding it.

When Mario stood at his family’s graves…
When he walked the streets he once ran through as a child…
When he unexpectedly found pieces of his family still alive…

It wasn’t just about memory.

It was about identity.


Sitting Next to Your Younger Self

I want you to picture something for a second.

What if you could sit down next to your younger self?

Not to fix them.
Not to rush them.
Not to tell them they’ll be okay and move on.

But to actually sit there.

To listen.

To understand what they were feeling in the moments that shaped everything.

So many of us have spent our lives trying to outgrow our past…

Instead of going back to meet it.

Instead of asking:

  • What did I need back then that I never received?
  • What did I believe about myself in that moment?
  • What did I carry forward that was never mine to carry?

Because healing doesn’t happen when we run from those versions of ourselves.

It happens when we sit beside them.


Closure Isn’t What We Think It Is

We tend to think of closure as something neat.
Clean.
Final.

But real closure?

It’s layered.

It’s emotional.
It’s sometimes messy.
And it often comes in moments you never could have planned.

Like being led to a place you thought was lost forever.
Like finding someone you didn’t even know you were still connected to.
Like realizing that the answers weren’t gone…

They were just waiting for you to come back.

Mario didn’t go back to rewrite his story.

He went back to reclaim it.


What If Going Back Is Part of Moving Forward?

Not everyone will physically return to where they came from.

But we all have a way of going back.

Through memory.
Through conversation.
Through reflection.
Through allowing ourselves to feel what we once had to shut down.

And maybe that’s the invitation here.

Not to stay stuck in the past…
But to stop avoiding it.

Because sometimes the most powerful step forward…

Is turning around and saying:

“I’m ready to understand now.”


This Conversation Isn’t Over

Mario’s story is one of those rare reminders that healing isn’t always loud.

Sometimes it’s quiet.
Sacred.
Personal.

And sometimes… it’s decades in the making.

This is only Part 1 of our conversation, and I promise you—there is so much more to come.

Because what happens when you go back…

Can change everything about how you move forward.


🎧 Listen to the full episode with Mario Cartaya
📖 Journey Back into the Vault: In Search of My Faded Cuban Childhood Footprints