FOMO Turned to Self-Value
By Mia Clingham
Every college student has found themselves overwhelmed with school, extracurricular activities, and part-time jobs (in my case to secure yet another sweatshirt at the bookstore). But as we navigate these more obvious stressors, it’s no secret that the world of social media has worked its way into this list, namely as our peers display their seemingly perfect lives leaving us feeling unworthy and left out. My fear of missing out has manifested itself in several ways, most prominently through social media. For me, this began in high school where kids began to have more autonomy over how they devoted their time. I felt overwhelmed with educational and extracurricular commitments and assumed my peers felt the same. But, via social media, all of my classmates seemed to have nothing but free time. Their Instagrams displayed constant vacations to Caribbean islands, dinners in the city, and the coolest, most extravagant desserts. When I compared this to my life, especially the less glamorous parts, I felt unworthy. These feelings continued but were bolstered by what felt like constant exclusion due to my many commitments. I would spend hours at dance or soccer only to finish exhausted, sweaty, and lonely watching my peers’ social media stories while I ate a late-night dinner before finishing up homework. I perpetually felt that everyone had a perfect life, while I was missing out on key experiences at the expense of lonely hours spent studying.
What I didn’t know then, and probably what I still don’t accept in full, is that while social media displays the best parts of people’s lives, it does not portray the full picture. My friends who were out at the restaurants I was dying to try as high school seniors were still feeling the pressure of AP Calc and looming college apps. And as I reflect, I wouldn’t do it differently. The things I spent doing were things I cared about, things I enjoyed, and things that gave me pride. Further, the invites I did or didn’t get made my self-value even stronger. The best place to be was always where I was. Missing out on cool dinner parties to spend time comforting friends made me feel all the more grateful for genuine relationships. Spending a night in to rest up from a stressful week helped me feel whole again. And that birthday party where my invite got lost in the mail allowed me to consume incredibly well-timed dad jokes. All in all, my fear of missing out has been replaced by the new-found importance of self-value. In reality, where I am, and where you are, is the truly best place to be.
