Let’s try JOMO instead of FOMO

In this age of curated existence, the ‘fear of missing out’ is triggering a restless hunger to the point where even life itself is up for fabrication.

The ‘millenial’ in me is perpetually perplexed by the lexicon that ‘Gen Z’ generates every few months—or maybe, weeks. It’s imperceptible what the ‘Gen Z’ words and concepts might be doing to the brains of the earlier generations. The latest term I read about is— ‘to flex’. Now, the verb ‘to flex’ has been an action of a muscle or a limb, to bend or to extend. But in this new concept, flexing is akin to faking. And what do you fake? You fake friends, designer outfits, romantic and platonic coffee dates and even holidays. Why? Because it’s cool to be seen at ‘happening’ places and get noticed as a popular person. Gen Z’s wannabe kids want fake tags on social media posts for everything glitzy—from concerts to cafes. Because glam tags are the new social currency. If you’re not seen at a place, you don’t count.

In this new trend of faking life events, wily youngsters are seeing entrepreneurship opportunities that feed on young people’s insecurities and a burning desire to ‘fit in’. They sell tags which means you can pay someone to tag you at a fancy café or shell out small and big bucks to hotel owners to tag you. How does this help? Your friends and followers will think you are dining, partying or holidaying at these fancy places.

Every generation has used its own tactics to earn bragging rights. Before the age of social media, it was name dropping; tabloids gave rise to the ‘page 3’ concept where photographs with famous people spawned an entire breed of ‘celebrities.’ Now, it’s all about having the right ‘tags’ and ‘locations’ on social media platforms. A story in the morning papers introduced me to this concept of faking a make-believe life for the virtual self. And got me thinking of what all the FOMO makes people do.

FOMO—or the famous abbreviation for the Fear Of Missing Out—makes people go miles, quite literally. The gathering of devotees, the Mahakumbh, had a fair percentage of visitors who were bitten by the FOMO bug. Or at least, that’s what I gathered from conversations—if he’s there, I want to be there. And get photographed too. Mindless scrolling through people’s feeds did spark off an urge to brave the crowds and get there. The same happened where everyone was posting photographs of getting vaccinated or tattooed or holidaying in Maldives. Suddenly, all Instagram-addicted Indians put the seaside destination on their travel wish-list.

FOMO is often tossed around lightly, a throwaway acronym in the lexicon of modern anxieties. But beneath its breezy surface lie deeper, more insidious currents. It is the ember that can set propaganda ablaze, the kindling that fuels viral trends and marketing strategies. A well-placed designer handbag, a limited-edition coffee blend, a bottle of artisanal gin—all slipped into the hands of an influencer—can turn a niche product into a cultural must-have. Remote villages and unassuming boutique hotels are transformed into overnight pilgrimage sites, their allure cemented by carefully curated reels and artfully filtered snapshots. If it looks good on Instagram, it becomes something I, too, must have.

But FOMO, more than just an economic engine, is a psychological weight. The digital world, with its ceaseless parade of enviable lives, can make even the most self-assured falter. The pursuit of keeping up, of mirroring the curated existence of an admired stranger, can spiral into quiet despair, a gnawing sense of inadequacy that therapists know all too well. A Mumbai-based psychologist told me that among her clients, young and middle-aged alike, FOMO has driven reckless splurges: life savings drained on luxury brands, lavish vacations, Michelin-starred meals—experiences curated less for personal joy and more for their social currency. And yet, when the reels are uploaded, the likes tallied and the comments skimmed, an emptiness sets in—a silence that demands to be filled by the next trending distraction. When that is not forthcoming, the crash can be profound.

FOMO is a cycle, a hunger, a quiet kind of exhaustion.

A 16-year-old confessed that ‘faking’ relationships is the new ‘in-thing’—fake accounts with pictures of dapper men and well-turned-out women are used to ‘tag’ clients at upscale restaurants. Clients because these youngsters pay a charge for that ‘tag’. The girl nonchalantly declared that it feels good and special to have a partner who’s taking you out to expensive dinner dates. But it’s all in the virtual world. Once the euphoria of admiration from friends dies out, reality hits hard, which can trigger emotional malfunction. Where’s the real companion and where are the real conversations?

In these addictive times where FOMO afflicts most, why not take the path less taken and enjoy the perks of JOMO or the Joys Of Missing Out? Feel happiness in not being a part of every grand gathering; take pride in enjoying your small group of friends in private and seek peace in curling up at home with a book that stimulates the mind rather than brings in a flood of fake admiration. JOMO is the antidote to fear. After all, isn’t it essential to replace all fear with joy? Let’s try JOMO!