We’ve all been there. Let me paint the scene. It’s Friday night. And, as a celebratory end to a rough week, you treat yourself to some Sex and The City repeats, some takeout sushi, and some good company – yourself, that is – and you go to bed content with staying in instead of going out. Your liver and sleep schedule are both equally thankful for this decision.
…Until Saturday morning creeps around and you complete your morning routine: Brush your teeth, brush your hair, and brush through your Instagram feed. Suddenly, you find yourself falling down the endless void of posts that include everyone’s more exciting and more fabulous versions of that same Friday night.
Sure, while you may have had a good time doing a facemask by yourself, you immediately find yourself wishing you were having the type of fun that Sara’s posts ensure. You find yourself wishing you were in that same crop top she was wearing in that post. You wish that your arm, too, was draped around that mystery man who sort of resembles McDreamy if you squint at the picture hard enough.
It spirals down from there. Suddenly the beast is awakened; your inner-ninth grade insecurity, which stems from that one high school Halloween party you didn’t snag the invite to, comes out to play.
This common phenomenon is known as “FOMO,” which is abbreviated for the “fear of missing out,” has been happening for as long as envelopes were passed around without your name on them. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. I’m even more sure that you’ve felt it.
But as we hit our twenty-somethings, the intensity of it has reached even higher. FOMO thrives off of the fact that we are all at the pinnacle of our youth – when going out and having a good time is how we celebrate the fact that we are in our twenty-somethings in the first place.
It takes on many different forms too. Like, that anxiety you get when you decide to go home for the weekend instead of staying on campus. Or the thought in the back of your mind, causing you to second guess your contentment with being alone as soon as you see someone locking hands with another. That feeling that comes creeping in that someone’s resume is more extensive and filled with internships and experiences that you could only dream about.
But I’m asking you – has it ruined your life? Has not spending $40 dollars on that new vegan place that everyone has raved about kept you from a life of happiness?
The useless days are apart of your becoming. These parts are what make you who you are: the staying in bed, the wearing a hair net while working an eight-hour shift, the parts of life that don’t seem Snapchat-able.
And you know what else I can assure you of? The parts of life that are broadcasted on Snapchat aren’t as real as those moments.
Be content with your lives, ladies. That ninth-grade Halloween party probably wasn’t all it was cut out to be anyway.