Likely Normal

We’ve officially reached peak civilization when our greatest existential threat isn’t plague or war or asteroid impacts, but the nagging fear that somewhere out there, people are having more fun without us. While our ancestors worried about saber-toothed tigers and crop failures, we lie awake at 2 AM tortured by Instagram stories of acquaintances laughing at a bar we weren’t invited to. This is progress.

The modern human brain has evolved exactly two settings: “Content” and “Wait, Is Something Better Happening Elsewhere?” We can be perfectly happy reading a book in our pajamas until our phone buzzes with evidence that other humans are doing something photogenic with artisanal cocktails. Suddenly, our cozy evening feels like a personal failure. That group chat we’re not in? Probably discussing brunch plans at some chic new place with avocado toast arranged by a Michelin-starred chef. Our leftover pizza tastes like ashes in our mouth.

What makes FOMO so diabolical is its infinite adaptability. Delete all social media? Now you’ll obsess about work FOMO – what if your coworkers are bonding without you at the water cooler? Stay home from the office happy hour? They’re definitely sharing career-making insights over those margaritas. Even our leisure time has become a minefield of potential missed opportunities – that obscure indie band playing Tuesday night might be the next big thing, and if we don’t go, we’ll forever be the clueless friend who “just doesn’t get” their music.

The tragic irony is that most of what we fear missing out on is… profoundly mediocre. That “epic” party? Thirty people standing around awkwardly holding warm drinks. That “life-changing” conference? A hotel ballroom full of people pretending to care about blockchain. Yet we keep chasing the phantom of perfect experiences, terrified that while we’re busy living our lives, someone else is living a better version on social media.

Perhaps the real rebellion isn’t chasing every event, but embracing JOMO – the Joy of Missing Out. There’s profound power in saying “No, I don’t need to be there” and returning to whatever makes you actually happy, whether that’s a book, a nap, or staring blankly at your wall in blessed silence. After all, the most exclusive experience of all is being at peace with exactly where you are – phone face down, notifications off, and absolutely zero curiosity about what’s in that charcuterie board photo.