In 2015, author and educator Parker Palmer delivered a powerful commencement address at Naropa University—a speech I highly recommend watching if you haven’t already.
Among his six pieces of advice to the graduates, his final point stood out for me:
If the unexamined life is not worth living, it’s equally true that the unlived life is not worth examining.
This observation is spot on, especially in a time when we’re so fixated on the lives we’re not living—the ones we believe we’re missing out on.
You know the feeling. You’re stuck in traffic on your way to an event, with that nagging sense that everyone else is already there—laughing, connecting, making memories without you. It's that itch in the back of your mind—What if they're having the time of their lives, and I'm missing it?
Or maybe it’s the worry that by not reading the latest bestseller, you're falling behind on those productivity hacks everyone else seems to be mastering. Or maybe it’s the thought that if you don’t start that side hustle, chase that passion project, or pursue that advanced degree, you’re getting left behind while others sprint toward their goals, leaving you in their dust.
This experience is known as “the fear of missing out”—FOMO. I’m not a huge fan of the phrase. Maybe it’s just the acronym that bugs me. Not sure. But it’s even in the dictionary now, and who knows? It might end up in the DSM—Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders— someday. We love to pathologise our experiences, after all. But that’s a discussion for another time.
At its core, this fear is a persistent worry that you’re missing out on something rewarding while others forge ahead. Many say it’s a symptom of the digital age, but it’s a feeling that’s been with humanity for as long as we’ve been able to think and compare ourselves to others. Social media has certainly amplified it, flooding our feeds with glimpses of seemingly perfect lives. But the fear of exclusion, the urge to compare, and the need to belong—those are as old as time.
The experience is related to our basic psychological needs like connecting with others, being accepted, and feeling competent, but on another level, it also taps into our need for meaning. In a world that often feels chaotic or even absurd, we convince ourselves that chasing every experience will somehow fill that existential void. We think that if we can just keep up—collecting accolades, checking off milestones—we’ll find the meaning we’re searching for. Yet, the more we chase, the more elusive that fulfillment becomes.
Then, there’s the sheer anxiety that comes with choice. Every decision we make closes off other possibilities, and that can be terrifying. What if we choose the wrong path? What if we miss out on something better?
This sense of loss, of wondering “what could have been,” often makes us long for lives that aren’t ours—sometimes more than we appreciate the one we’re actually living. We’ve all felt it—yearning for the books we haven’t read, the places we haven’t visited, the conversations we haven’t had. We dream of the careers we didn’t chase, the adventures we didn’t take, and the alternate versions of ourselves that might have existed.
But does all of this mean that the fear of missing out is inherently bad? Not at all. Wanting to belong, to feel competent, to want to make good choices—it’s all natural. Even comparing ourselves to others isn’t always harmful; sometimes, it pushes us toward healthy behaviours or motivates us to reach new goals.
The problem starts when it turns into an obsession—a compulsive need to track everyone else’s lives, constantly comparing what they have to what we lack. It’s an issue when we’re so focused on what we’re missing that we forget to live our own lives. Or when we overschedule our lives, trying to do everything, be everywhere, fearing that if we don’t, we’ll fall behind or miss something vital. Or when we forget that life is messy, full of ups and downs, and that it’s shaped by both choice and chance.
Living based on your own values is different from letting other people’s values dictate your life. When this fear is the ultimate driver of our decisions, our priorities get skewed. We start reacting to perceived losses instead of acting from a place of genuine desire or purpose. We chase what others value, not what truly matters to us. And that’s a trap—a cycle of endless chasing. There’s always more to want: more information, newer gadgets, better books, more exciting events. If we let this fear dictate our actions, we’ll never find contentment. We’ll be running on a treadmill, never getting anywhere.
Fear is a useful motivator in real danger, but when it takes over our daily lives, it robs us of joy. Living in constant fear keeps us from fully experiencing and appreciating what truly matters. When we let the fear of missing out dictate our lives, we end up missing out on fully living.
Advertisers, social media, reality TV—they thrive on this fear, bombarding us with carefully curated images of happiness and success that often don’t reflect reality. Ironically, they make us doubt that real life is happening right here, in our own moments. The people we watch seem to be living brighter, more exciting lives, and it leaves us feeling smaller. So we start aspiring to be like them—just to feel like we exist.
If we’re not careful, we’ll end up trapped in an endless loop—always chasing, never arriving. Always wanting more, yet never fully enjoying what we already have.
Is there an antidote?
Most advice out there tells us to delete social media apps, set screen time limits, or take digital detoxes. These are fine strategies, but they only scratch the surface. We need to look inward and ask the tougher questions. I encourage you to look a bit deeper.
What is it, exactly, that makes you restless when you think you’re missing out on an event or activity?
Is it the fear of being excluded or rejected by your friends and peers?
Do you believe that doing just one more thing will make you more productive or successful?
What are you truly afraid of missing? Is it the experience itself, or the idea of falling behind others?
And why does it feel like whatever you’re doing now isn’t enough?
These questions are important because this fear reaches far beyond missing a moment—it’s tied to a primal concern that our lives could be more, that we could be more, that we’re somehow falling short. We live in a world that constantly tells us we need to be everything and pushes the idea that our lives aren’t enough.
The antidote lies in accepting that life is incomplete and imperfect. We aren’t flawless, and we aren’t the centre of the universe. Unlike the promises of self-help books and motivational gurus, we can’t be anyone or do everything. We are limited, and no matter how hard we strive, we simply can’t have it all.
In this modern era, endless possibilities become a burden. Every choice feels like a sacrifice, and we’re haunted by the ghosts of paths not taken. We wonder, “What could have been? What should have been? What if I had chosen differently?” This is the deeper fear that we’re not living up to our potential. It’s the worry that we’re missing out on a more fulfilling existence, that there’s something more out there we’re not grasping.
We can dwell on the paths we didn’t take, or we can accept that life isn’t about right or wrong choices. We make decisions, we move forward. Dwelling is a waste of time; acceptance is liberating. Life is shaped not just by our choices but by the unpredictable hand of chance. Even when we make the best possible decisions, there’s always uncertainty. Luck and randomness play their part. And this unpredictability is what makes life both challenging and beautiful.
In my work with clients in therapy, I’ve seen how powerful it can be to build a sense of personal agency. This means grounding your decisions in your core values—not in what others expect or what society tells you to want. It requires cultivating autonomy, being attentive to your desires and skeptical of the impulses that drive you to chase what doesn’t truly matter. A critically minded person, aware of both personal and societal tendencies toward comparison and dissatisfaction, can resist these forces. We have the power to resist the pull of social pressure, to choose differently, and to be aware of how easily we can be led astray. We are determined creatures, but we can choose not to be entirely determined by our habits, our fears, or the influence of others.
When you’re clear about what matters to you, the pressure to compare yourself to others begins to fade. You stop measuring your life by their standards because you’re finally living by your own. This path isn’t always easy. Living in alignment with your values can be uncomfortable, especially when everyone else seems to be chasing the next big thing. You might feel pressure to attend every event or keep up with every trend, but if you prioritize deep, meaningful connections over surface-level interactions, you’ll start making different choices. You might choose a quiet night with a close friend over a party that doesn’t resonate with you. This decision might stir up a brief fear of missing out, but in the long run, it aligns with what truly matters to you.
In every decision, we inevitably miss out on something. But if what you’re doing aligns with what you deeply care about, you’re on the right path. And if it doesn’t, you can always change course. Sometimes, you might even stray from your values to seize an opportunity, and that’s fine too.
Ultimately, just because everyone else is doing something doesn’t mean it’s right for you. You’re not really missing out if doing what everyone else is doing would waste your time and energy. It’s worth asking: Does this activity genuinely add value to my life? Hanging out with people you don’t truly connect with or endlessly scrolling through others’ lives won’t bring the fulfilment you seek.
The real trick is being intentional with your time, your energy, your choices. It’s about living a life that’s meaningful to you, rather than endlessly chasing after what seems meaningful to others.
I’m curious, what has been your experience with fear of missing out? And what is your own antidote?
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