This phrase, or perhaps its more familiar acronym – FOMO, seems to be a part of our struggle towards sexual sobriety. It represents a reaction or an attitude that might be found among those that grew up in stricter or disciplinarian homes. These are often churched homes where the standard of doing what is right is often contrasted with the perils and dangers of doing what is wrong.
I was one who grew up in that sort of environment. And yet, like many others, I found that it created a curiosity, a desire to explore and sample, that beckoned me to cross boundaries that I felt had been placed in my life by others. This is where I encountered FOMO. I think deep down, I felt that others were experiencing things that I never would. I felt that loss of not knowing something or not having an experience as it was forbidden to me. I also rationalized that the warnings of the consequences and implications were just to curb behavior or to ensure compliance. They weren’t REALLY warnings of true danger or risks, were they?
The fact that we are using the phrase, Fear of Missing Out, means that we are listening and paying attention to what others are doing, talking about, portraying on TV shows, commercials, and movies. If the conclusion we come to is that we are missing the “good life”, we have bought into the sales job and fantasy being portrayed. We are listening to the wrong people. We are listening to those that will make a buck from your attention as they seek to influence your values and purchases. So we assume it is all true, it is all legit, and that if I had that thing, experienced that feeling, my life would look like what they are portraying. But we are talking to the wrong people. We should be listening to those that tried those things, let them run their course, and see where it left them. But those people don’t populate our commercials, TV shows, or movies. They inhabit our 12-step rooms of AA, NA, and SA. They are in Half Way Houses or homes for those recently out of jail. They are pushing grocery carts downtown with 3 coats on in the summer. They are under bridges or living in cardboard shelters.
There are many reasons why a person may end up homeless and destitute. Some may have had a decent shot at life with family, education, career, and achievements before they believed the FOMO lies and ran after something else that was apparently eluding them. And then the lies are unmasked as the promises fall flat, the happiness evaporates, and the never-ending yearning for more begins its ceaseless occupation of my mind. I find that I am being destroyed internally and it starts to leak through the patches and duct tape repairs that I had hoped would hide the decay. That sounds like some of the stories I have heard in the SA fellowship, as well as my own story.
How can I counter FOMO? How can I not fall for the false allure of fantasy and promises that are lies? One thing is to be sure I’m listening to those that are telling the truth about life and its consequences. If all I listen to are commercials, TV shows, and movies as well as social media with its own false version of life and reality, I will be susceptible to swallowing the lies and accepting them as truth. One of the values of attending meetings is hearing real people tell the truth about what the consequences and implications of choices they made a long time ago pursuing a lie.
I remember hearing stories of regret from brothers in the fellowship at how the sparkly string of choices turned into a chain of slavery. I remember realizing that the warnings of the risk and danger were not just platitudes from pious and hyper-conservative kill-joys. And then realizing they were just echoing the warnings that have been there for millennia, generation after generation – the most familiar set of behavioral guidelines ever given. And then I remember being shocked to realize that God, the original manufacturer and designer of my mind and body, had provided those warnings because there was real danger, real risk, a very high chance of damage, destruction, and death. Not because He was a kill-joy. Not because He didn’t want me to be happy. But because He wanted me to be alive, undamaged, and actually able to experience and feel all the things I am created for.
But I thought I knew better and set off to show that those warnings were for others. Not smart guys like me. And boy, was I wrong.