By Laura Htet (UDE)

IT STARTS with a familiar pang — the sharp, bit­tersweet feeling that you are being left behind. You pick up your phone, scroll through so­cial media, and there they are: your friends at a concert, their faces glowing in the neon lights; a coworker on a spontaneous weekend road trip; an old school­mate posting pictures from a wedding you had to decline. You imagine the laughter, the music, the excitement, and suddenly, your quiet evening at home feels unbearably small. That’s the mo­ment when FOMO — the fear of missing out — tightens its grip.

FOMO is something that nearly everyone experiences from time to time, but when we have a chronic illness, it takes on a deeper, more persistent form. It’s not just about miss­ing an occasional social event – it’s about missing out on life itself. It’s about feeling like an observer rather than a partici­pant, watching the world move forward while we remain stuck in place, tethered by our health.

Having a chronic illness means that even simple plans require careful consideration. Unlike those who can sponta­neously decide to go out with friends or take on a new adven­ture, people with chronic illness­es must navigate a minefield of unpredictability. Will we have enough energy? Will the outing trigger a flare-up? Will the phys­ical and mental toll be worth the momentary enjoyment? These are the questions that hover over every decision, turning even the most casual invitation into a complex calculation. And often, the answer is “no”.

Declining invitations can be heartbreaking, especially when it becomes a pattern. We watch as our social circle con­tinues to bond through shared experiences while we remain on the periphery. Over time, the invitations start to dwindle. Peo­ple assume we’ll say no, and so they stop asking. We begin to feel forgotten, even when it’s no one’s fault. The isolation that stems from chronic illness isn’t just about missing events — it’s about missing connection, spontaneity, and the sense of be­longing that comes with being actively involved in the lives of those we care about.

FOMO, for those with chron­ic illnesses, is not just a fleeting feeling. It’s a deep, aching sense of loss — loss of opportunities, of freedom, of the life we might have had if our health were dif­ferent. And that kind of grief is not easy to shake off.

While the emotional weight of FOMO is real, there are ways to ease its grip. The first step is understanding that missing out is an unavoidable part of life — chronic illness or not. Everyone experiences FOMO in some form, even those who appear to be living their best lives on social media. The truth is, no one is everywhere, doing everything, all at once. There will always be things we miss, and that is simply the nature of life. The challenge is not in avoiding FOMO entirely, but in learning to coexist with it in a healthy way.

One of the most powerful shifts in perspective is to stop comparing our reality to the highlight reels of others. Social media can be deceptive – it show­cases the most exciting, curated moments, rarely revealing the struggles, exhaustion, or even the moments of loneliness that people experience behind the scenes. It’s easy to assume that everyone else is living a full and uninterrupted life, but in truth, everyone has limitations. Our life, with all its complexities, is not less meaningful just because it looks different from someone else’s.

Instead of focusing on what we’re missing, consider what we can do to create moments of fulfilment within the boundaries of our health. The definition of a meaningful life is not limited to high-energy activities, grand adventures, or social gatherings. Joy can be found in the quieter moments — reading a book that transports us to another world, engaging in a creative hobby, having deep conversations with close friends, or simply taking in the beauty of a peaceful evening.

Creating our own version of “fun” is essential. If we can’t go out for a late-night party, can we have a cosy movie night at home with a few trusted friends? If travelling is too demanding, can we explore new cultures through books, films, or online experienc­es? The key is to find activities that bring us joy without pushing our bodies beyond their limits.

FOMO often stems from a fear of disconnection, so find­ing ways to maintain meaningful relationships is crucial. Even if we can’t physically be present at every event, we can still be involved in other ways. Send a message to let our friends know we’re thinking of them, schedule a virtual hangout, or ask them to share their experiences with us afterwards. True friendships are not defined by how often we show up in person but by the quality of the connection we maintain.

Communicating openly about our illness can also help bridge the gap. Many people don’t fully understand the limita­tions of chronic illness, and they may not realize how much we wish we could be there. Letting our friends know that we appre­ciate their invitations — even when we have to decline — can keep the lines of connection open and remind them that we still value their presence in our lives.

One of the hardest but most important lessons in handling FOMO with a chronic illness is learning to embrace our life as it is, rather than mourning the life we think we should have had. It’s natural to grieve for the things we can’t do, but that grief should not overshadow the things we can do. Our life, even with its limitations, is still ours to shape.

Finding purpose in what we can do, rather than focusing on what we can’t, allows us to re­claim control. Maybe we can’t dance all night at a concert, but we can write music or discover new artists from the comfort of our homes. Maybe we can’t join in on a spontaneous trip, but we can create a bucket list of places we’d love to explore in the future, planning ways to make it possi­ble on our own terms.

FOMO feeds on the belief that happiness exists some­where else, always out of reach. But fulfilment is not about chas­ing experiences — it’s about find­ing contentment in the moment, in the life that is uniquely ours. It’s about appreciating the joys, big and small, that exist within our reality.

So, the next time we feel the sting of FOMO creeping in, take a step back. Remind ourselves that missing one event does not mean missing out on life. Our journey is still unfolding, in ways that are meaningful, valuable, and entirely our own. And that, in itself, is something worth cel­ebrating.

In sum, FOMO, especial­ly when living with a chronic illness, can feel overwhelming, but it’s possible to navigate it by shifting our perspective. Instead of comparing our lives to others’ highlight reels, we can focus on creating meaningful moments within our own boundaries. By redefining joy, maintaining con­nections, and embracing our unique journey, we can find ful­filment in the life we have, rath­er than mourning what we feel we’ve missed. True contentment lies in appreciating the present and celebrating the small, mean­ingful victories that make our lives uniquely ours.