Kitty Blackadder

A Scottish blog about anxiety, minimalism and eyeshadow.

Tuesday, 8 August 2017

Sneaky, Sneaky FOMO

I had heard of FOMO (or "fear of missing out") a lot over the years as various bloggers on my feed lamented not going to Ibiza for the first Summer in 5 years, or not going to the music festival that EVERYONE was going to. I saw colleagues totally burn themselves out drinking many nights in a row because they couldn't bear the thought of not being at the party, just in case, but honestly, FOMO was never a big part of my life.


As I think I've talked about a bunch on here, I was never part of the in-crowd as a kid - like it or not, that was something that just wasn't an option for me - so growing up I missed all the parties, all the scandalous happenings, the drunken outings and the 'squad' holidays. As time passed, I never did go out to da club and I never did get something pierced.  I never got sunburned, never had a crazy fling, never kept up with the chart music, the TV shows or the celebrities.

Part of this, I think, was falling in with an older crowd at college - as in, they were in their 40s -, and then also being in relationships with older men - all people who had done all the typical "young" stuff and had moved on - so I think I just sort of moved on too. That and the fact that as time passed, I felt I had sort of missed the boat on a lot of it: getting drunk at 18 for the first time and making a fool of yourself may be excusable and pretty normalised, but I felt it would just be a bit awkward at 25 or whatever.

So yeah, I kind of marched to the rhythmn of my own drum, I guess: I had my interests, my music taste, my Netflix list, and I didn't really care if they were "cool". In a lot of ways, I suppose I didn't know what I was missing out on. Colleagues at work would initially spark conversations with me about current goings on, but after a few rounds of; "no, really, I don't own a TV", and "Yeah, I've never been on a night out", or even, "what's One Direction?", and people soon gave up on me and moved on to chat about the weather - now that I can do, have you seen the rain lately? Occasionally my sister would look at me like I had three heads as we listened to music together, but other than that, basically everyone knew I was on my own path.

Now though, having started this new barista job, I am surrounded by lovely young folks who are so nice to me, and don't seem to be giving up on me easily either. We've had lots of chats about what the nightlubs in Glasgow are called, what Grindr is, what the bands I listened to when I was 14 are doing now (hint: it's not good), and why Love Island is such a thing (I still don't get it). But, despite how nice everyone is, as time passed, I started to feel really out of it, I felt "uncool" and like I was really missing out on a lot. I started to want to keep up with the things they kept up with, I vowed to participate on the next night out and I would grimace at myself when I was just so out of the loop with EVERYTHING.

Eventually, thankfully, I had a couple of realisations - brought about by a guy at work talking about "dabbing" and the awkwardness of us just staring at each other for about 10 seconds after we realised I had no idea what that was. The first realisation was that I am older. I am 26, my fiance is 35, so of course my life does not look the same as my 20 year old colleagues'. They're out partying and eating instant noodles (I mean, probably not at the same time, although as I've covered, I actually have no idea what goes on at parties), and Kenny and I spent yesterday at Dobbies choosing out compost (honestly. not. even. joking). Our idea of snuggling up to watch something does not involve the dramas of random singletons on an island ('cos I think that's what Love Island is... right?), we're currently rewatching David Attenborough's The Private Life of Plants, and you know what? We love it. While age certainly shouldn't be something used as a rule - as in I don't think every 26 year old is too old to hit the clubs, I just know I am - life does move through natural chapters, and I am not in the same chapter as my workmates are.

That sort of leads me onto my second realisation about why I was all of a sudden drowning in the FOMO. More than the fact I felt out of touch, and like I was missing out on things now I think it was the realisation that I am truly past the point of a lot of things happening in my life. I am an adult. I am a pet-parent. I'm getting married. I think working with all these young people who're so free made me freak out a little about the fact I'll never be like that again. I will never be able to just "crash on someone's couch", I have a cat who would spend the night sharpening her claws for when I did come home. I will never use a dating app, heck, I will never have another first date. I'll never have a holiday romance, an awkward morning after or a love affair with Aragorn (although that might be mostly because he's ficticious). I'll never know who's on TV, I'll never keep up with the Kardashians. I can't go back and have a massive 21st birthday party, I can't get a drunk tattoo and regret it when I'm older, I can't... well, I can't be 20 again.

It has to be said that I have a history with struggling to accept things like this: that my life has passed some sort of threshold I can't go back from. I spent much of my 11th birthday in tears becuase my Hogwarts owl never arrived (I sat up half the night with my window open, waiting for it), and on the eve of my 16th birthday I had quite the freak out about my CHILDHOOD BEING OVER, prompting my mum to rush out and buy me several My Little Ponies. So, yeah, I think this is another example like this: something I just need to build a bridge and get over. Because let's face it, I have a lot to be grateful for; I shouldn't be sitting around feeling jelly (that's something young people say) of my fellow baristas.

I have my wonderful fiance who is just honestly like the other half of me, I have my beautiful fur-baby who I love more than I would ever have thought possible. We own our awesome flat, I'm lucky enough to be studying again and at 26 I can finally use a can opener with at least some competence. With so much to be thankful for, it's time to let go of some things too - and to accept I'm the outsider at work, and that's actually okay.  So here's to propogating aubergine seeds, shopping for a new matress, listening to Bach and still not having a fucking clue what dabbing is.

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