FOMO, MOFO

For those of you who may not be hip to the new lingo, FOMO is just Fear Of Missing Out. We have all felt it, whether on a minimal scale or a grand scale, myself included. I remember back when Matt and I first started dating, he was still in his band, and I had to miss a lot of his shows because I couldn’t find a babysitter, and it would drive me crazy to know that everyone else was there watching him perform. Everyone except for me. I knew what the songs were, and I knew pretty much everyone who was going to be there, but something made me feel resentful about them enjoying themselves.
That’s FOMO.
And that’s what we face when we make a leap like social media abandonment. Closing facebook means you don’t get to hear what your friends are up to, as they live spontaneous moments of their lives. It’s not as easy as emailing your friends and family every day, asking if they did anything cool or noteworthy, or if they had a frustrating experience that needs to be talked about, or if they have any photos they feel like sharing. Facebook is responsible for the reunion of old friends, the discovery of family, the assembly of mass groups, and the spreading of knowledge we may not otherwise have access to. I’ve been to surprise birthday parties that were organized on facebook. I met someone that made a huge difference in my life, on facebook. Hell, I met Matt on facebook. We tether memories to facebook, and expect that each day we will be able to relive old memories from years prior. It’s comforting, because we expect that they will always be there.
So when we leave facebook, the FOMO turns on. We lose the connection to friends. We lose the stream of knowledge that flows between people. We lose the comfort of our memories. We lose the ability to allow facebook to handle birthdays and graduations and concerts and gatherings. We lose our private audience. We miss out on memes, trending topics, and the opinions of others. We miss out.
It’s a sick, sick thing. It’s like a drug, and we think we need to go back, so we don’t completely delete our account; we just deactivate it for awhile. The fact that it’s even an option to do that, is so fucked up, because it shows that they KNOW it’s an addiction, and we’ll be back! If they were smart, they would make the initial account free, and then charge to reactivate if you deactivate at any time. Just like a drug dealer.
I am currently transitioning away from facebook, which is truthfully a FOMO moment for me. I don’t have phone numbers or email addresses for many of my friends, and most of them may as well be on another planet, since I live way out in the sticks. I don’t want to miss my friends. I also live half the country away from my family, so it’s hard to convince myself that I’m not missing out. I have family I have only seen on facebook.
Life is short, and I hope I am able to maintain relationships with people I’m close to, even without facebook. I went ten years without speaking to people I once considered my best friends… and then I got facebook, and spent ten years becoming reconnected to them. I hope the next ten years is full of real-life visits with those friends, experiencing their laughs and smiles, smelling them, which sounds weird, but I’m a smell person. I’m not going to sniff you, or anything, but I can smell you. I smell you. I want to smell you in real-life.

-jg