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By Caitlin Paul
In my final year at the University of Bristol, I was drowning in a sea of commitments. Studying for exams, applying for grad schemes, maintaining a social life - I was so swamped that I could feel the exhaustion weighing me down.
But every time I considered taking my foot off the gas, a little voice in my head whispered, "What if you miss out?"
Social media didn’t help – I’d spend hours scrolling through Insta, my thumb flicking past pictures of friends abroad on gap years, out at Motion, or celebrating huge achievements. The more I scrolled, the worse I felt.
It was as if everyone had unlocked some secret formula for balance and success that I had somehow missed.
Then came the breaking point. One night, after agreeing to yet another evening out that I didn’t have time for, I found myself sitting in my room, staring blankly at my laptop.
An almost empty word doc loomed before me, but instead of working, I felt paralysed by anxiety. The fear of missing out had led me to overcommit, leaving me burnt out and barely present in anything I did.
Realising the Cost of Overcommitment
I had a literature review due the next morning, yet I was still contemplating whether I should squeeze in a quick trip to Spoons with friends. Rationally, I knew I needed to finish the assignment. But emotionally, I felt compelled to go - what if something funny happened?
What if an inside joke formed, and I wasn’t part of it?
I went. I laughed. I posted an Instagram story that made it seem like I was effortlessly juggling life. But when I got home at 2AM, the weight of my unfinished essay came crashing down on me.
I pulled an all-nighter, and the exhaustion followed me for days.
It wasn’t just my academic life that was suffering. My mental health was in decline. I wasn’t sleeping enough, and even when I was physically present, I was emotionally checked out.
From FOMO to JOMO
Something had to change. I started by asking myself one simple question before saying yes to anything:
Am I doing this because I genuinely want to, or because I’m afraid of missing out?
At first, it was hard to distinguish between the two. But over time, I began to recognise that some invitations filled me with excitement, while others felt like obligations disguised as opportunities.
Take nights out: I wasn’t a fresher, so what was I doing queuing for Gravity?
The more I slowed down, the more I realised that I wasn’t actually missing out - I was gaining something far more valuable: presence. I began to appreciate quiet nights in, and the sense of peace that came with not saying yes to everything.
Three Lessons I Learned
Saying no isn’t missing out - it’s making space for what truly matters. The more I prioritised intentional choices over impulsive ones, the better I felt.
Rest is productive. Slowing down doesn’t mean falling behind. In fact, the more I embraced stillness, the more clarity I gained about what I wanted post-university.
True connections don’t require constant presence. I used to think I needed to be at every event to maintain friendships. But the reality is, the people who matter will still be there, whether you’re at every outing or not.
Embracing The Joy of Missing Out
Now, I live in London, where the pressures of social expectations could easily overwhelm me if I let them get to me. Luckily, I no longer view missing out as something to fear.
Instead, I see it as an opportunity to be more intentional with my time and energy.
I still go out, but I choose experiences that genuinely bring me joy rather than ones I feel obligated to attend. I still check social media, but I do so with awareness, reminding myself that it’s a fun platform - not a measuring stick for my own life.
Most importantly, I’ve learned that life isn’t a race to accumulate the most experiences. It’s about being present for the moments that truly matter, whether they’re the times you’re out all night or quiet evenings spent in front of Gilmore Girls.
So if you’re feeling the FOMO, try embracing JOMO instead. You might be surprised by what you gain when you stop worrying about what you’re missing.
HAPHE is a non-profit charity committed to trauma-induced depression prevention. You can learn more about our cause here. Want to get involved? Why not take part in our Short Film Project or Tell Your Story?
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