Happy, nostalgic, childhood memories are sacred and pure mostly because they're just that - childhood. The newness of things kind of gave you the world through rose colored lenses. The same thing can happen with new jobs, relationships, friendships, etc. It can be a real shock to the system when we revisit the things we used to love and realize maybe they weren't so great.

One Reddit user asked: What, upon revisiting, did not live up to your nostalgia?

Some of the stories are sad, but there's at least one victory in here. One person finally realized they had been wrong, and Small World was not, in fact, the greatest ride at Magic Kingdom. So, hooray for that!

When I was a little kid at summer camp, I witnessed a miracle. A friend of mine and I were going down this insanely long and high slide at this massive park they'd taken us to on a field trip.

My friend fell from the top of the slide and as soon as he did I knew it was bad. No one could survive a fall that far. But miraculously he did survive!

I went back to that park as an adult. It was like a 6 foot slide.

Growing up, I had a friend with a big creek back behind his house, like a mile back into the woods. We aptly named it "Beaver Creek" because there was a family of beavers who lived in a den there. I remember before graduating high school, we sat at the creek saying how this is one moment we would never forget because in a few weeks "everything is going to change".

We graduate. I move away. I drove through the area four years later, and decide to make the trek to Beaver Creek. That was our spot and it'd be great to see it again. I trek the mile into the woods and arrive at--- a creek that has eroded away very quickly. This creek went from being ten feet across to maybe a mere two feet across. The Beaver House was LONG gone. Instead of fast water it was moving slow with a lot of foam built up around caught branches and rocks, and smelled horrible.

Made me real depressed. I'm sad thinking about it.

As you get older you will find that driving past just about anything from your younger years is painful. I'm in my 50's now and now rarely visit the city I spent the first half my life in. Maybe it is just the human condition but I think as we move on in life we somehow expect all that things in our past to remain the same. They don't. The local pub I spent way too much time in is now torn down. The strip mall with the pizzeria that had the best pizza in the world is now a car dealership and the small bungalow where I was raised is now some grotesque two story monolith. They say you can't go back, and truly it is true.

The "It's a small world after all" ride in Disney World, FL. Had this memory of going on it when I was like 4 where I swore the little car you ride in was like floating through space while various Disney characters would fly by and say stuff. Did it again when I was like 14 and found out that 4 year old me was on acid.

I'm ready for the hate but...GTA: San Andreas.

I was 10 when it came out and I absolutely adored it. For the time, it was definitely fantastic. However, a few weeks ago, I went back and replayed it as I was dying to show my SO the great story.

Oh...my...God. The gameplay dragged so much for me and felt so awkward and clunky. The missions felt boring to me. The story was still good but I just couldn't bring myself to finish it. Age has definitely not been as kind to San Andreas as it has to other games from the same era.

Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark. I read them religiously as a kid, and I remember just being absolutely terrified after each story. About 13 years go by, I'm 21 now, and I found the books in my brother's closet. The stories were NOT as I remember, they were very short and most of them were just downright silly. However, I still give the illustrator props. The imagery in that book is still pretty haunting.

The Phantom Menace. As a kid I genuinely enjoyed the movie and had no idea why the prequels got so much hate. Rewatched it 7 years later...hoo boy. The actor who plays Anakin is just so bad. I literally cringed when he shouted "YIPEEEEEEEEEE". NO ONE ACTUALLY SAYS THAT GEORGE.

Jelly shoes - they are not as comfortable or as cool as I remember. I bought a pair online that i was going to wear during the summer. i wore them once and the blisters were insane. not as fun as when I was a kid.

The Animaniacs, which was heartbreaking.

Keep in mind, I don't hate it now, but it just doesn't tickle 30-yo me as much as it did 10-yo me.

Christmas for me. I have great memories of it from when I was a kid, but now I just sit there on edge waiting for my dad to be an ahole about something or for someone to get pissed off about some stupid sh!t. I hate it now.

My college boyfriend. I remember the sex being so magical. Like, honestly still fantasize about it 20 years later. Hooked up recently and wow was that a letdown. He's still a great guy and I wish him the best, but I don't need to revisit that.

Not sure if this counts but I remember every year growing up the Christmas tree got smaller and smaller. When I was about 10 I complained to my mum that it was a bit rubbish that the Christmas tree was smaller every year.

It wasn't smaller , it was the same tree each year(plastic), I was getting bigger

The Lion King. There I said it. I understand the message of it, but when I watched it again I just couldn't get over the way Simba was so whiny. I understand this sounds petty and people disagree but dang I just didn't enjoy watching it like I did when I was a kid.

SpongeBob Squarepants - even the "classic" episodes are barely tolerable to go back to at this point. Fortunately, Rocko's Modern Life has held up significantly better.

Thundercats 80s episodes. Virtually every situation that called for the team to fight for their lives is because Lion-O would consistently mess up simple tasks.

I get that he was a kid in a mans body. His lack of basic common sense was infuriating.

My childhood church. Man, its was unsettling.

I grew up going to a medium-sized United Methodist church. There was a strong congregation, very few empty seats in the pews each Sunday, plenty of organizations and programs. The greatest marvel was this huge stained-glass mosaic behind the altar, the size of the entire wall. There were amazing depictions of all the rockstars from the Bible, each standing ten feet tall, backlit by the rising sun each Sunday morning. We left to join a Presbyterian church when I was in middle school, due to conflicts with the new (widely-despised) pastor.

I went back as an adult for an Xmas Eve service, because my grandparents still attended. I had outgrown my faith. Even at a "busy" service, now only half the pews held parishioners, and even these were half-empty. I recognized all the old faces, but now they were really old. Former couples came in singles, because Mrs. Aaron's husband and Mr. Gerhard's wife had long since died. My childhood babysitter/crush had grown into a beautiful woman with a daughter and a crisply-dressed husband, and crow's feet at her eyes. Her rascally little brother looked like a young man with a drinking problem whose parents had bought him a nice suit for Christmas. The worst part was the service itself. All of the hymns and congregational prayers just sounded like empty voices reciting some hollow chant. At the pulpit, I remembered bold, lion-hearted men who had firm but soothing voices. They were years gone, replaced by a kind, barefoot lesbian who had a roving mic and wandered the aisles while she led the service. She was actually an improvement, I enjoyed the energy she brought, but she was not the authoritative figure that had first taught me that you MUST love Jesus.

And the mosaic was dark, because it was evening. All those thousands of pieces of broken glass, so carefully arranged, just looked like shattered images. Moses still raised the tablets over his head, breaking them angrily. But now he just looked like another old man whom I recognized from my childhood, someone I'd pretend not to notice when I'd see him at the grocery store. I held my grandma's hand as we walked out. It felt like sticks wrapped in paper.

Billy Madison. As a kid it was hilarious. As an adult I low key cringed and had to turn it off as to not ruin my memory of it.

The Smurfs

Children of the 80's, do you remember? It was the first cartoon of Saturday morning. You'd better be in front of the tube with your bowl of cereal by the time those opening credits stopped. It was the launching point of a morning of cartoons capped by an hour of Looney Tunes before you headed out into the neighborhood for the day. I remember loving the Smurfs.

And then as an adult, I caught an episode one day. And that is the most boring thing ever. "Hi Papa Smurf, are you feeling smurftastic today? I've picked some smurfberries for the smurfpies for dessert at the smurfestival this evening. It's sure to be a smurfy good time"

Apparently I was easily entertained as a child.

Ever since I became vegetarian at 12 years old, I've missed Chef Boyardee Raviolis. I'm 25 now and work in a mental hospital where this is occasionally something they'll feed the patients, staff are allowed the same meal trays for free. A co-worker was eating her tray of the Chef Boyardee Raviolis and asked me if I wanted to have some. Just the smell was already ringing some nostalgic bells. I peeled of the noodle part and ate it, expecting it to be blasted back to my youth and reminded of how much I missed it. No. It tasted like salted asphalt. Not awesome. Glad to be rid of the option.

H/T: Reddit