Home for the Holidays: Letting Go of FOMO and Learning to Exist

This holiday season has truly been one for the books.

Not because it was loud or packed with plans-but because, somewhere between gym sessions, comfort shows, and unapologetic doomscrolling, I realized I had finally let go of my FOMO. Which is ironic, considering I am a certified homebody. But the truth is, my FOMO was never about missing parties, trips, or group photos. It was about missing out on having my own experience. Not the general experience. Mine.

When I look back, the holidays have always come with a storyline. Last year, I was out of town for Christmas - different place, new energy, deeply fulfilling. The year before that, Siobhan was in town, and I spent some of the days laughing uncontrollably with her and her sister. Before that, I had just moved to Sheffield, so the holidays became about nesting-decorating my space and hunting down the cutest pink decor I could find. And the year before that, I had moved to a new country and started a new job, far too excited about building a new life to even register boredom. Every year came with a transition, a reason, something happening.

This year was different. For the first time, I was settled-fully. In a life I recognize, in a routine I’m comfortable with, in my own company. And somehow, that made everyone else uneasy. “Are you really spending the holidays alone?” “Won’t you be sad?” “Don’t you feel lonely?” Meanwhile, I was going to the gym, watching my favorite shows, doomscrolling X, Instagram, and LinkedIn, resting, and simply existing. No agenda. No schedule. No pressure to make the moment bigger than it needed to be. Just quiet, ease, and contentment. And honestly, it felt amazing. I wasn’t disconnected from the world. I attended a wedding. I went to a New Year’s party. I laughed, danced, and celebrated. And then I came back home to silence that felt grounding rather than empty. I loved watching Detty December unfold from afar-Accra, Lagos, Cape Town buzzing with life. I smiled at family photos, matching outfits, group dinners, and joy-filled timelines. Everyone thriving in their own carefully carved-out corner of the world. No envy, no comparison, just appreciation. Everyone was doing the holidays their way, and so was I.

If there’s a lesson here, it’s this: as a generation, we’re finally taking ownership of what fulfillment looks like. We’re unlearning the idea that joy has to be loud, communal, or externally validated. We’re choosing intention over tradition, presence over performance. We’re realizing that a beautiful life doesn’t look the same in every season. Sometimes it’s travel. Sometimes it’s people. And sometimes it’s quiet mornings, gym sessions, and the freedom to exist without explaining yourself. And honestly? I love that for us.