Fear Of Missing Out

Remember back in lockdown when we stayed in our houses, escaping only to the garden, if you had one? In the midst of it, all I wanted was out. To go to the grocery store, the coffee shop, the park. Wanted freedom. Security. Fearlessness. Normality.

And then we had it. Lives slowly returned to as they once were, full of after-school clubs, shopping, traveling, parties, and all the other activities that keep us running around like hamsters on a wheel.

Nearly three years, later, I can without a doubt look back on those initial months with a longing, nostalgic feeling. Everything felt, simpler.

(Not discounting the grief, fear, depression, loneliness, mental health issues, financial implications, and every other bad thing that came along with the lockdown. It was hell for so many millions of people.)

There was a distinct lack of FOMO, and if you don’t know what means, no worries, neither did I until five minutes ago. FOMO = Fear Of Missing Out.

Do you remember that? Since no one was going anywhere, or doing anything – there was nothing we were missing out on. I would often sit in the living room, quite bored of our four walls, and remind myself everyone else in, well in the world, was doing exactly the same. Aside from Joe Wicks, who was exercising all the time. And Dominic Cummings, who thought he was above the law and traveled from London to Durham. Most of us were just home, getting by, day by day, the seconds lasting hours.

As the world started to open back again, FOMO is back with a vengeance, at least with me. I have to constantly notice, and fight it.

Beavers club?

Swimming lessons?

Vacations?

Work events?

Days out?

Family gatherings?

Date nights?

Fear of missing out, as I’m sat in joggers twice my size, a sweatshirt four times my size, hair needing a cut, drinking rich hot chocolate. I’d like to keep up, but I also really like chilling, as does our whole family. We love being lazy, watching films, playing Minecraft, colouring, eating, reading. This fear of missing out is present, but I’ve also made the choice not to be on the road, all - the - time. I’ve made the choice, but even still, often feel like I’m missing out.

Or worse, feel like my kids are missing out. Are they going to grow up resenting we didn’t do what their friends did? That they didn’t have what their friends had? Will a lack of diverse experiences stunt their development? Make them less well-rounded adults? What if they don’t try playing tennis and were meant to be superstar tennis players in the future?

With the holidays around the corner, the fear of missing out is taken to a whole other level. Happy families gathering. Festive nights out with besties and work colleagues. Santa’s grottos. Garden Centres. Lapland. Piles of presents. Christmas craft fairs. Light displays.

Let’s just stop there and agree (?) that it is really easy to constantly feel like we are missing out as the world turns.

A scientific study was done on this, can you believe it? Motivational, emotional, and behavioral correlates of fear of missing out. It defined the fear of missing out as: the uneasy and sometimes all-consuming feeling that you’re missing out – that your peers are doing, in the know about, or in possession of more or something better than you. It’s down to low levels of satisfaction of the fundamental needs for competence, autonomy, and relatedness. The study found people feeling this way often checked social media to make them feel better, which made them feel worse.

“The problem with FOMO is the individuals it impacts are looking outward instead of inward,” Darlene McLaughlin (a smart person) said. “When you’re so tuned in to the ‘other,’ or the ‘better’ (in your mind), you lose your authentic sense of self. This constant fear of missing out means you are not participating as a real person in your own world.”

The key to stomping out fear of missing out? Apparently, attention.

Giving attention to that which is positive, rather than that which is negative. Focusing on what you appreciate (in the real world, not on social media), practicing gratitude. Savouring. Slowing.

I read a great article with super practical suggestions for keeping FOMO at bay, which boiled down to two tips:

-Relish feeling out of the loop.

-Have a break from social media, or delete them altogether.

This Christmas, heck, hopefully forever – I’m going to be practicing attention. Feeling a cup of coffee’s heat, staring into the branches of bare trees, gazing at the wick of a cinnamon-scented candle, noticing each freckle on my baby’s face, tasting the chocolate bar dissolve in my mouth. And gratitude, for this home, my friendships, water, food, clothing, heating.

I have already reduced my social media consumption, and plan to stick to that for a while, to avoid seeing what everyone else is doing. It’s made a huge difference to my mood in general already (and it’s only been three weeks).

This fear of missing out doesn’t have to be the norm. I can choose to think differently. To find joy in what I have, who I have, and what I’m doing, rather than constantly running to keep up with everyone around me.