I Don’t Have FOMO. Not This Christmas. Not Ever

Let me start with a confession that usually surprises people: I don’t really feel FOMO. Not a little bit. Not secretly. Not “I’m pretending I don’t care but I actually do.” I genuinely don’t feel it.

And if there was ever a time when I should, it’s now. It’s Christmas in Lagos. Everything is happening at once.

There are parties every night, brunches that start at 1 pm and end at 9, movie premieres, pop-ups, beach trips, nightclubs that are “soft launching” every weekend, and celebrities casually appearing where you least expect them. Your phone barely has time to lock before another flyer shows up.

Online, it’s chaos.
People are debating whether concert tickets are worth it, fighting with Uber drivers over surge pricing, doing back-of-the-envelope math to justify ₦18k cocktails, and loudly mourning the price of food as if it personally offended them. Everybody is outside. Or at least wants you to think they are.

I see it all. I really do.
And yet… I never feel like I’m missing out.

The other night, someone was fully crashing out on the phone because she missed her favourite DJ’s set. Like real distress. The kind where you’d think something important was lost forever. I listened, tried to be empathetic and then realised I genuinely couldn’t relate.

Not because I don’t like music.
Not because I don’t enjoy a good time.
But because the idea that this exact moment was the only chance for joy just doesn’t land for me.

Not in the dramatic, chest-tightening, doom-scrolling way it’s often described. And no, it’s not because my life is secretly exciting or because I’m “above” social media. It’s because I’ve spent a lot of time building self-awareness, sitting with myself, and learning contentment the hard way.

That gnawing feeling people talk about, the sense that something important is happening somewhere and you’re missing it, I understand it intellectually. I just don’t live in it.

My brain and my emotions work together now, not against each other. And that didn’t happen by accident.

So instead of talking about FOMO like it’s an unavoidable disease of the internet age, I want to talk about why it doesn’t run my life, what changed for me, and how introspection quietly killed it off.

I don’t need to be at every party to validate that fun exists. I don’t need photographic evidence of a good time to believe I’m living well. And I don’t need to spend money I’ll regret in January just to prove I was “outside” in December.

Somehow, at some point, I made peace with the fact that I can opt out—and still be fine. More than fine, actually.

There’s something deeply calming about knowing that rest is not a punishment, staying in is not a failure, and missing one night doesn’t mean missing everything. That joy isn’t scarce. That experiences will repeat themselves in different forms, with different people, when they’re meant to.

Anytime I can’t attend an event, buy something I like, or access a lifestyle I see online, I pause and ask myself a straightforward question: why?

Not in a dramatic way. Not with self-pity. Just… why?
And then I sit with the answer. Honestly.

Maybe I can’t afford the event. That’s a valid reason.
Maybe something more important needs my attention. Also valid.
Maybe I don’t live in Banana Island yet because I’m simply not in the same social or financial class as the people who do, and that’s not an insult, it’s just the truth.

That moment of truth-telling changes everything.

Once I acknowledge reality without trying to sugarcoat it or fight it, the feeling of “missing out” disappears. There’s nothing to miss when you understand why you’re not there. FOMO thrives in denial. Clarity starves it.

A lot of FOMO, I’ve noticed, comes from lying to ourselves.

We pretend we’re choosing not to go, even though we know we can’t particularly afford it.
We act like we’re unbothered, while secretly resenting people who are ahead of us.
We scroll, compare, and quietly spiral.

I don’t do that anymore.

If I want something and don’t have it, I name the reason plainly. No drama. No self-judgment. Just facts. That honesty creates emotional stability. It grounds me back into my own life instead of someone else’s highlight reel.

And here’s the thing, people don’t say enough: your current reality is not an insult. It’s just a phase. Once I accepted that, comparison lost its grip.

READ ALSO: How to Address Microaggression in Everyday Conversations

Social Media Doesn’t Trigger Me

Social media shows me beautiful things. Luxury. Travel. Success. Soft life aesthetics. And I enjoy looking at them without feeling pressured to participate immediately.

Why? Because I know where I am. I know what I’m building. I know what I can afford. I know what season I’m in. And I know that every season has rules. You can’t skip levels and then be angry that the game didn’t reward you.

When you’re honest about your capacity, financially, emotionally, mentally, you stop measuring your life against people who are playing a completely different game. That awareness alone neutralises FOMO.

Contentment didn’t come naturally to me. I learned it.

I learned to focus on what aligns with my current reality instead of obsessing over what doesn’t. I learned that peace is more valuable than proximity. That being everywhere is overrated. That missing one thing often protects you from missing yourself.

Over time, this habit rewired my response. What used to trigger curiosity or comparison now triggers focus. “Okay, not now. What can I do instead?”

That shift is subtle, but powerful.

Finding Your Peace in a Noisy World

One way I believe we can handle FOMO is to stop scrolling. Seriously, take a break. That’s the first step, detaching from the endless cycle of comparison. I know, it’s easier said than done, but you need to realise that social media isn’t a mirror. It’s a filter. So when you’re feeling that pang of jealousy or frustration, just step back and think, “This isn’t my reality. This is someone else’s edited version of their reality.”

The second part? Start embracing your reality. I know, it’s not as glamorous as someone else’s, but it’s yours, and it’s valid. You’re not a failure because you’re not jet-setting to the Maldives every weekend or posting a perfect selfie. Find joy in the small, everyday things. Take pride in the ordinary moments, the quiet evening with a book, the cosy dinner with friends, or just a peaceful walk outside. These moments matter, too, and they don’t require anyone else's validation.

Next, you’ve got to redefine what “success” and “living your best life” really mean. What does it mean to you? Is it a picture-perfect vacation, or is it having a peaceful, fulfilled life? Social media will make you think success looks one way, but you know what? Your life is yours to define.

READ ALSO: Rebuilding Trust After Betrayal: What Works and What Doesn’t

Also, you don’t need to do everything. You don’t need to say “yes” to every invitation, join every trendy activity, or keep up with the Joneses. Learn how to say no. Learn that it’s okay to step back and not be a part of everything.

FOMO comes from thinking you’re missing out on everything when in reality, it’s just a handful of things. And those things? They probably aren’t as important as they seem.

Finally, focus on gratitude. Yes, gratitude. It’s not just a buzzword; it’s a mindset shift. When you start looking at what you have, rather than what you don’t, FOMO tends to lose its grip. 

For me, self-awareness, introspection, and contentment turned down the noise. I stopped competing with people I wasn’t meant to be competing with. I stopped rushing seasons. I stopped romanticising access over alignment.

And once I did that, FOMO quietly packed its bags.Not because the world slowed down but because I finally understood myself.