FOMO – or fear of missing out – is like a little bug that nips at your shoulders and ankles and keeps you from settling into a moment.
You are content with a night in or a weekend at home until FOMO creeps in to ask why you are all alone. The thing about FOMO is that she never barges in. She comes quietly on the nights when you start to feel a little lonely. She takes you by the hand and offers you a bit of nostalgia. She reminds you of the parties, the places and the friends you used to see. ‘Weren’t those good days?’ she says. ‘Don’t you wish you were doing that now?’ She asks you why you stopped seeing that nice guy from six months back. Never mind that he talked over you and wore suffocating body spray. FOMO has a short memory for those kinds of details.
FOMO loves the summertime. She loves music festivals you can’t afford and long weekend camping trips when you can’t get Friday off. You tell yourself you’re better off saving the money you might have spent on a festival weekend but FOMO just laughs. She has never been very good with numbers. FOMO makes you think that every summer has to be the best summer ever. If you’re not going to water parks and drinking rosé on sunlit patios, you’re not doing summer right, dammit. It’s something like fear of missing out that drives us to post perfectly cropped photos of Sunday brunch or toes in the sand. The photos are for posterity, to prove that you did not miss out.
FOMO is a malevolent optimist. Anytime you decline an invitation, she whispers that you might miss out on the best party ever. She is good company when you want to wallow in the misery of plans declined for work obligations. She can become mean-spirited when she senses you’re missing out because of your insecurities. You’re invited to a party but you won’t know many people attending. FOMO can push you out of your comfort zone and into a great night, or FOMO can cause you to berate yourself for not wanting to make an awkward entrance.
The decision to give into FOMO comes down to a battle between the fear of being perceived as less because you didn’t attend something significant and the fear of feeling uncomfortable when you do attend. There’s a difference between wanting to attend an event in and of itself and wanting to attend so you won’t miss out. With the latter mindset, you’re already anticipating a negative result. There’s a difference, too, between making an empowered or a necessary decision to decline an invitation and declining from a place of insecurity.
What FOMO doesn’t much account for is circumstance. Sometimes an event is worth taking a step outside your comfort zone. Even if you show up feeling awkward, you’re committed to enjoying whatever the night might bring. Once you pass the threshold and put your insecurities aside, it’s usually a good time. Other times, the party is too far away, the bar isn’t really your scene and you just aren’t up to a night of mingling with your acquaintance’s second cousin’s coworker.
When you decide not to go, don’t give in to the nips of FOMO that tell you to check Instagram to see all the fun you’ve missed. Or do check and be glad that your friends had fun and you had a relaxing night with your dog! If you see 117 or so snap stories from a friend’s night and start to feel like you’ve missed out, remember that the party can’t have been all that great if your friend spent the better part of the night on her phone.
Song of the Day: OBLIVIUS by The Strokes
