“FOMO-ing” — How I burn my energy
I’ve started noticing how much energy I lose on what I call “FOMO-ing.” It's this funny little habit I've developed where I end up saying yes to almost every invite and opportunity that comes my way. It's not because it aligns with my priorities, but more because I have this automatic worry about missing out. It's not exactly fear, but more of an unwillingness to be left out. In the end, though, all these experiences just seem to blur together.
The Fear of Missing Out (FOMO) is undeniably real. Yet, this time around, determined to transition from a mindset of urgency to one of intention, I’m aiming for less FOMO and more of my own personal Terms & Conditions.
🧠 The brain behind FOMO
FOMO is a blend of anxiety and social comparison that spikes when you believe others are having rewarding adventures you’re not part of, especially when there’s uncertainty about what you might gain or lose.
It’s a sense of urgency without clarity, driven by built-in human biases amplified by modern life.
🔮 Key psychological drivers
Scarcity bias — “This chance is rare; I must seize it before it’s gone.” — causing urgency
Loss aversion — “If I don’t do it, I might lose something important.” — creating anxiety
Social comparison theory — “They’re ahead, so I must be behind.” — sparking envy
Bandwagon effect — “Everyone’s doing it, so it must be worth it.” — imposing pressure
And together, information gap theory, temporal discounting, and anticipated regret magnify this pull: when we sense others know something we don’t, crave the reward right now, and fear regretting it later, we rush in before it’s “too late.”
FOMO is modern, but not new
While the feeling is ancient, the name is new. Dan Herman coined the term in 2000, and Andrew Przybylski developed the first measurement scale in 2013.
Here’s what the research says about FOMO 🧐
Dan Herman (2000) — “FOMO is the anxious feeling that others are having rewarding experiences without you.”
Patrick J. McGinnis (2011) — “FOMO is the high-achiever’s fear of choosing wrong while everyone else gets ahead.”
Andrew Przybylski et al. (2013) — “People with higher FOMO scores report lower mood, less life satisfaction, and heavier social media use.”
Brett S. Levine et al. (2018) — “Cutting social media to 30 minutes a day significantly lowered FOMO and loneliness.”
Jonas Reer et al. (2022) — “FOMO is a key trigger behind compulsive social media use and stress.”
🎧 Media Rec
Addicted to chaos? Listen to this podcast. I believe the addiction to chaos also feeds the FOMO.
🔍 Discovering the joy of missing out (JOMO)
There is something called JOMO that I recently learned about. It's the joy of missing out. It’s contentment from opting out without guilt. For a couple of months I needed to focus on studying CFA so I decided to deactivate my Instagram. Surprisingly, it brought a sense of relief and focus after certain time.
JOMO is less researched and not yet formally defined as a psychological construct. However, studies conducted show that intentional unplugging, reframing missed events, and mindfulness all reduce FOMO and create feelings associated with JOMO (calm, satisfaction, control).
Lifestyle Rec — Practice JOMO
🧘🏻 Skip something on purpose, then notice how it feels. Fill that time with something you love: rest, creativity, or silence. Write down what you gained by not going.
🚶🏽Try stepping away from whatever makes you feel bad and excluded. Pause (e.g. deactivate IG) long enough to stop FOMO-ing and start JOMO-ing. Enjoy your life not others.
⏳ Why FOMO hits harder
Time is the only non-renewable asset we have. You’ve probably heard the cliché: “time is gold/precious and should not be wasted.” I agree with it… but for the ambitious souls who overbook themselves and burn out easily, this mindset can backfire.
Life isn’t just something to optimize. It’s something to live. The human body and mind need rest. Time has to be spent, not just saved.
Historically zooming out, humans haven’t always treated time like we do today. FOMO feels stronger now than in past generations due to the evolution of time. FOMO isn’t a personal weakness; it’s a cultural pressure.
A few centuries ago, no one scheduled their lives by the minute. E.P. Thompson described how agricultural life ran on tasks and seasons. Lewis Mumford noted that mechanical clocks, not steam engines, truly launched the industrial age. And today, as Oliver Burkeman says in Four Thousand Weeks, we treat each moment “as a resource to be extracted, rather than lived.”
“Humans once lived by nature’s cycles, then obeyed hourly bells, then raced to fill every minute, and now chase meaning in milliseconds.”
No wonder we feel behind. The system is designed to keep us chasing. FOMO is a natural response to a world that shrank time, sped it up, and monetized our attention. You’re not broken; you’re just running ancient software in a hyper-timed system. We all need a mental upgrade.
On average, we get about 74 years, or roughly 4,000 weeks, to live . If you’re 26, you’ve lived around 1,350 weeks and have about 2,500 left. There isn’t time for everything that promises happiness. That’s not failure, it’s just math. Seeing time this way takes the shame out of FOMO. It’s not that you’re weak; it’s that you’re swimming in a culture built to make you feel like you’re late. We all are. The real question becomes: If time is finite, how will I choose what truly matters?
🕙 Learning to spend, not just save
As an international student navigating study and work in the U.S., I had to be relentlessly efficient with the time I had, especially with the limited time in the country. In consulting now, every minute carries a price tag. Someone’s paying for it, and I feel that weight.
I’ve also seen how living in constant motion quietly erodes clarity. Rushing from task to task might look productive, but often it works against the bigger goal. I’m learning that managing time isn’t just about squeezing more in; it’s about protecting the right things from being squeezed out.
🧿 Better terms, better time
The realization hits when one understands “I actually don’t need more time. I need better terms.” Just like the endless “agree and accept” boxes online, most of us sign off on how our hours get used without thinking. Then I wondered why we keep agreeing and accepting terms and conditions to sell our attention for free. Why don’t we write our own Terms & Conditions (T&C) instead, to feel good about ourselves? So, I came up with this.
Terms are the rules for how I use my hours: what I’ll invest in, what I’ll spend, and how I’ll choose. Conditions are the setting that makes those rules stick: boundaries, rhythms, and defaults that shape the day. When I set them on purpose, FOMO loses leverage. I stop scattering energy across every invitation and start moving through a season with clarity.
I start to prioritize what truly matters to me, aligning my actions with my values and goals. By crafting my own T&C, I reclaim control over my time and attention, ensuring that they are spent on activities and relationships that enrich my life.
💡Ideas to design your season
FOMO isn't just about time slipping away; it's about losing touch with who you are. When we lose sight of our own values, we might start following what others want, thinking they're great chances. To avoid this
Ask: What are my main values? How do I want my life to look? What three things matter most to me?
Draft: A simple one-page T&C for each season. Outline three rules to embrace, three to avoid, and establish a default stance. Revisit these guidelines every Sunday. Commit for 12 weeks, which is only 0.03% of your weeks. As the seasons change, so too can your manifesto.
Write: One thing you said no to and how it benefited you every week. This way, you turn choices into opportunities, not just things you missed out on.
On the journey,
~ Soka ~