Fear of Missing Out
This strange phenomenon affects me probably a lot more than it should. It’s the reason I stopped watching people’s Snapchat stories. The reason I feel the need to post Snapchat stories when I am hanging out with my friends. It’s the reason I have a lot of passive aggressive tendencies whenever my friends hang out with each other and don’t invite me. I’ve had it for as long as my friends have been able to hang out with each other. I wish I could be able to feel happy that my friends have other friends, but I am really protective over my friends. And greedy, definitely greedy. I have seriously got to learn that my friends are their own people and do not belong to me.
But I am trying. Once you become confident in your relationships, you stop worrying about losing your friends to other people. I know that my friends becoming close to someone else does not affect our relationship. People grow and evolve. I’m growing and evolving. I’m no longer bitter or resentful. I’m free and happy. I might still have pretty bad FOMO, but I’ve learned how to enjoy the time alone.
Or to just ask other people to hang out with me.
-your favorite people person
Yesterday I revisited old songs that used to be my favorites when I was younger. I realized that no matter how old I become, there are some songs I will never forget all the words to. There are some artists that I will never stop loving. There are so many moments associated with the music that shaped my life through all my years. Nights where I lived spontaneously, danced all night, had the time of my life and music was what made those moments so unforgettable. I know I talk about music pretty frequently, but there is just something about it that makes me feel alive. Moments when you find clarity, feel emotions you’ve never felt like falling in love, or having your heart broken. The music surrounds you, eliciting so many conflicting emotions. Swirling around inside of your head as you laugh, cry, scream. Music is actually therapy, believe it or not. Whole generations are defined by the music they listen to. Our generation, though? I don’t know if we can fit into one certain music genre. Now there are many different genres for the many different people our generation holds. I think it’s pretty beautiful how each of us find some genre of music to help us define ourselves. We are alternative, we are pop, we are rap, we are country. We are a generation with an unusual connection to the music that we love. And I couldn’t be happier that I have ears that can hear the beautiful symphonies that make me who I am. Thanks to all the people who are making music, aspire to make music, or who just love to support the artists and listen to it.
-your favorite people person who wishes she could sing
I’ve never really understood how powerful smiles are. Yes, I enjoy the act of smiling, but one smile has the power to change an entire day. Whether you’re smiling for yourself or the benefit of someone else, one smile can change someone’s entire outlook.
I’ve started to notice how much smiling affects others. I make sure to smile at the cashiers at the grocery store, waiters or waitresses, even random people walking past me when I’m going to work. Most people look stoic, but once they see me smile something shifts. Their whole face brightens and then I get the best response ever: a smile back.
Now I’m not saying I have this amazing smile that is capable of bringing even the saddest person out of their funk, but I do believe that smiles are such an unstoppable thing.
My fitness instructor tells us to smile because we burn more calories. While that’s true, I think we should also smile because we help others and ourselves. Researchers say that just a single smile on a sad day can lift your mood. I challenge you to smile as much as you can today. Whether it’s to yourself or someone else, whether it’s sarcastic or because someone said something funny, just do yourself and the world a favor and show off those 32 friends hiding behind your lips!
This was cheesy… get it:-).
-your favorite people person