What our discomfort in exclusion reveals about us— and how we might respond
There’s something about human nature that stirs up this mysterious “fear of missing out.” It’s a process that plays out in our minds, saying more about who we are than we often realize.
Let me offer an example. I received an email a few days ago asking if I was going to attend an upcoming event. It came as a surprise because not only did I not know about it, but it involved someone I know very well. I was immediately perplexed. Why wasn’t I invited?
When I found out it was a political campaign fundraiser, I truthfully was relieved. Yet I still felt miffed that I wasn’t invited. I wondered for the rest of the day what I was missing by not attending. Fear of missing out at its finest.
Why did I feel this way? I suppose it has something to do with how important it can be to us to be with others. Sure, there are events we are happy to skip—let’s call that the Joy of Missing Out—but these others? The ones that sit uncomfortably with us? It is most certainly about exclusion. It’s our inherent longing to belong. And that feeling tells me more about me than about anyone else.
While this might sound trivial, fear of missing out can also arise over much more serious things. I received an email from the son of a dear friend of many years, telling me that his father had died – three weeks before. I was deeply saddened. This was a person who had deeply influenced my early learning and growth, both personally and professionally. The son also told me that his mother had died the year before. The sadness and grief grew worse. How did I miss this? My fear of missing out became palpable in a very different way. I should have worked harder at connecting with my friend. Now my fear of missing out had a companion: guilt.
I have a hunch many people “feel” this, but do not often deal with it. They let it consume them, impacting their day-to-day, but don’t necessarily address it. Maybe it’s because it is so confusing. Maybe we just do not understand why we are so fearful of this type of pain and therefore avoid it.
I’ve spoken about this with a close friend of mine recently. Over the years, our conversations were always quite casual, but in the past year, they have become more personal. He is a Vietnam veteran, a devout American, and in many ways a very successful person. He has owned and opened businesses, written books and plays. Yet, despite all this, he often feels as though it is not enough. He is always looking to what could be next, never wanting to miss an opportunity. As a result, there is an uneasiness that he feels constantly, so much so it’s begun to affect him—and his marriage.
He is aware that this all ties back to the death of his father when he was five. That loss, he tells me, has colored all he deeply feels. And no matter how well he does, his father not being there to affirm it has him constantly reaching for more.
This fear of missing out can be so deeply imbedded into who we are. It can be the result of an experience from decades before but because the feeling is, it seems, so strange to us, we allow it to stay, impacting how we feel and how we think about ourselves.
I still struggle with this. But I remind myself that our task in living each day is to be aware of our own feelings and the feelings of others—and be willing to explore them. The only thing we’re really missing out on is knowing ourselves and each other better. It’s not easy to explore in an anxious world and culture, but that awareness is more than worth the effort.
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