FOMO: the fear of missing out

FOMO, short for fear of missing out, describes the worry that other people may be having important, interesting or socially rewarding experiences from which we are absent. It is not simply “wanting to go to everything”. It often involves a more subtle unease: the sense that something relevant may be happening somewhere else, with other people, and that we need to keep up in order not to lose connection, opportunity or belonging.^[1]

The term became popular with social media, but the experience it describes is much older. Being sensitive to inclusion in the group is part of human life — it always has been. What has changed is the amount of available signals: photos, messages, notifications, statistics, confirmations of attendance, disappearing stories, conversations that continue without us. What could once only be imagined now appears on a screen, almost in real time.^[2]

It is worth beginning with an important distinction: FOMO is not an illness or a diagnosis. There is no “FOMO disorder” in diagnostic manuals. It can be an occasional and perfectly understandable experience; but it can also become a repeated pattern that interferes with sleep, concentration, relationships, self-esteem or phone use. The main clinical question is not “do I have FOMO?”, but rather “how much space is this taking up in my life?” — and that question helps us understand how the phenomenon works from the inside.^[3]

An overly sensitive social alarm

We can think of FOMO as a kind of social alarm. In moderate doses, being attentive to what is happening around us can help us maintain relationships, respond to invitations, take part in important moments and feel that we belong. The problem begins when this alarm becomes too sensitive and starts going off in response to almost any cue.

A notification, a photo of friends, the idea of a group conversation or the simple possibility of not knowing some new piece of information may already create tension. The response seems simple: open the app, check, take a quick look. Sometimes we find something interesting; other times, almost nothing. Even so, checking brings momentary relief. And it is precisely this relief that teaches us that checking “works”.

A very recognisable cycle then forms: the idea that we may be missing something appears; unease increases; we check the phone; there is brief relief or reward; and the likelihood of checking again grows. There does not need to be intense pleasure — often it is enough to reduce uncertainty for a few seconds. Being able to check new posts at any time may sustain this urge to keep checking.^[3]

Comparison, belonging and social media

Social media is particularly effective at feeding this circuit because it shows a selected version of other people’s lives. We see outings, trips, achievements, relationships, events and moments of apparent ease. Our inner experience, with tiredness, doubts and routine, ends up being compared with what other people chose to publish.

This comparison can turn a simple piece of information — “they are there” — into something much more personal: “I should be there”, “I was excluded”, “I am falling behind”, “my life is less interesting”. This process is not always conscious. Sometimes what remains is only a vague feeling of unease, urgency or insufficiency.

Sometimes what hurts is not only missing the event itself. It is imagining that the group will create stories, jokes, memories or a sense of closeness without us. The fear is no longer just “I was not there”; it becomes “I may become more distant from others because I was not there”.^[4]

Research has consistently found associations between FOMO and problematic Internet or social media use. This does not mean that FOMO is always the initial cause, nor that social media affects everyone in the same way. There is also some evidence that FOMO and social media use can feed into one another over time. And, contrary to the popular image, this mechanism is not exclusive to any age group.^[3][5][6]

Who can experience FOMO?

Although it is often associated with adolescents and young adults, FOMO does not belong to a specific age. Research tends to find higher levels among younger people, possibly because belonging to the group, identity and social life are especially salient at that stage. But adults of many ages also recognise this experience: at work, in relationships, in family life, in career decisions or even around cultural and professional opportunities.

There is also no simple rule about gender, culture or social class. The way FOMO appears depends on the context, the platforms being used, social expectations, important relationships and the way each person deals with exclusion, uncertainty and comparison. The essential point is to avoid caricatures: FOMO is not a generational weakness; it is a psychological experience that becomes more likely when signs of belonging and exclusion are constantly visible. The question, then, is less who feels it than when that feeling stops being temporary.

When it becomes a problem

Feeling some discomfort about missing a meeting, a conversation or an opportunity is not, in itself, worrying. Life involves choosing, and every choice leaves other possibilities out. FOMO becomes more relevant when the person feels they can no longer choose freely.

There is an important difference between “I want to go” and “I have to go”. The same outing can come from interest, pleasure and genuine connection, or mainly work as a way of reducing the anxiety of being left out. In a study of watching a sporting event, FOMO-driven consumption was more closely linked to social rewards than to enjoyment of the experience; the latter was more closely linked to satisfaction.^[7] From the outside, the two decisions may look the same; from the inside, they can feel very different.

Some signs deserve attention: repeatedly checking the phone even when one wanted to rest or concentrate; feeling anxious when there is no access to social media; interrupting conversations, work or study to follow updates; delaying sleep in order not to miss messages; accepting commitments out of fear of exclusion; or remaining persistently caught in comparisons that leave a feeling of inadequacy.

In these situations, the problem may not lie only in the number of hours spent on screens. It may lie, instead, in the role the screen has come to play: confirming belonging, avoiding loneliness, regulating anxiety, filling emptiness, preventing contact with doubts or protecting against the feeling of falling behind. From here, it makes sense to ask what can actually help.

What can help?

The solution does not always involve deleting apps or doing a radical “digital detox”. For some people, reducing stimuli can help; for others, total abstinence is hard to maintain and ends up clarifying very little. It may be more useful to make digital use more intentional, bearing in mind that research on social media interventions has produced mixed results and does not establish a specific treatment for FOMO.^[8]

A first step can simply be to observe the pattern: at what moments does the urge to check arise? What was happening just before? Was there boredom, anxiety, loneliness, comparison, fear of exclusion, difficulty starting a task? This question shifts the focus from the phone to the psychological function of the behaviour — which is already, in itself, an important step.

Before accepting an invitation, buying a ticket or changing plans, it can help to pause briefly: “do I really want this, or do I only want not to be left out?”, “would I still want to go if I could not post about it or know who else was going?”, “is the cost in sleep, energy, money or attention still worth the experience?”.

It can also help to reduce unnecessary cues: turning off notifications, removing apps from the home screen, creating phone-free periods before sleep, avoiding social media during meals or conversations, and choosing specific times to reply to messages. The idea is not to turn digital life into an enemy, but to recover some margin for decision.

When FOMO is linked to anxiety, self-esteem, social comparison or relational difficulties, change usually requires more than rules for using technology. It may be necessary to work with beliefs such as “if I am not present, I stop mattering”, “other people are always doing better than me” or “I need to know everything in order to feel safe”. In those cases, psychological work can help make sense of the cycle and build more stable forms of belonging.

Missing something is also part of life

There is an uncomfortable truth at the centre of FOMO: we are always missing something. While we are in one place, we are not somewhere else. While we choose one relationship, one activity or one moment of rest, we leave other possibilities unlived. No digital strategy can remove this.

Perhaps this is why the answer to FOMO is not to control everything that happens, but to learn to better tolerate the inevitable part of being left out. Not as sad resignation, but as a natural consequence of a chosen life. There are experiences we will not have, conversations we will not follow, opportunities that will pass. The question is whether we can be sufficiently present in what we choose so that what was left out does not take up all the space.

When the fear of missing out becomes persistent, painful or difficult to manage, seeking psychological support may make sense. Not necessarily to use less technology, but to understand what need, fear or hurt keeps sending us back to it for reassurance.

Revised 27 September 2026.