
There was a time—not too long ago—when I said yes to everything.
Dinner invite? I’d be the first to respond.
Last-minute group hangout across town? I’d rearrange my plans.
A birthday party for someone I barely knew? Sure. There might be cake.
I wasn’t driven by curiosity. I was driven by FOMO—the fear of missing out.
I said yes—not because I always wanted to go, but because I didn’t want to miss out on the fun.
FOMO wasn’t just a trendy phrase to me—it was a quiet pressure humming in the background, convincing me that if I skipped even one moment, I’d miss something meaningful, something everyone else would remember without me.
The Slow Shift
I can’t name the exact moment everything changed. There was no dramatic exit, no big “aha.” Just subtle signals—exhaustion that lingered longer than usual.
A longing for stillness that used to scare me. And this new, almost holy whisper inside me saying: You don’t need to go. You don’t need to prove anything. You’re already held.
“Better one handful with tranquility than two handfuls with toil and chasing after the wind.” —Ecclesiastes 4:6
I began choosing rest over performance.
Silence over noise.
Presence over pressure.
Why I Kept Saying Yes
I didn’t just say yes because I was afraid. I said yes because I wanted to live fully. I wanted to be in the middle of things—to soak up every experience, every laugh, every golden-hour memory. I thought the more I showed up, the more life I’d collect.
But what I didn’t realize was this: trying to savor everything comes at a cost. It takes energy to be fully present in every space. And after a while, I wasn’t savoring—I was spreading thin. I wasn’t absorbing joy. I was absorbing noise. And by the end of the day, I wasn’t full of life. I was just… depleted.
What FOMO Really Cost Me
I used to think I was just being social. But really, I was running—chasing validation in crowded rooms, trying to earn my belonging by never missing a beat.
“You can’t hear the voice of God when everyone else is shouting in your ear.” —Unknown
FOMO cost me clarity.
It diluted my joy.
And it left me with a full calendar and a hollow spirit.
The more I showed up externally, the more I disappeared internally.
I was everywhere. But rarely with myself.
What I Found When I Let Go
When the FOMO faded, something else filled its space.
Peace.
Clarity.
A slower rhythm that didn’t require constant motion to feel meaningful.
“If you’re always racing to the next moment, what happens to the one you’re in?” —Nanette Mathews
Now, I unplug without guilt.
I stay in and don’t apologize.
I trust that if I miss something, I haven’t missed everything.
“Be still, and know that I am God.” —Psalm 46:10
Stillness is no longer absence.
It’s presence that doesn’t perform.
🌿 Soul Insights 🌿
1. FOMO thrives in insecurity, not identity.
When you don’t know who you are, you feel like you have to earn your place in every room. But when your worth is anchored in God, you stop chasing connection and start carrying it with you.
2. Saying no is a spiritual act.
It’s how you create margin for what matters. Even Jesus said no to the crowds. He withdrew often—to pray, to breathe, to be. If He didn’t say yes to everything, neither should we.
3. Not everyone deserves your availability.
The people who truly see you won’t punish you for protecting your peace. And the ones who do? They may have been feeding on your overextension, not your presence.
4. Rest reveals what hustle hides.
When you stop moving long enough to notice your internal weather, you begin to hear God more clearly. You realize you weren’t built to run on urgency—you were made to move with purpose.
5. God never called you to perform your belonging.
He called you to receive it. You were already chosen before you showed up to anything. “Martha, Martha,” the Lord said, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one.” —Luke 10:41–42
💭 Final Thoughts
I used to fear being left out.
Now, I fear living a life so rushed that I forget who I am.
FOMO taught me how to chase.
Stillness taught me how to receive.
I no longer need to be everywhere.
Because the moments I’m meant for—God will not let me miss.
💬 Let’s Talk
Have you ever felt your fear of missing out fading?
What has peace started to sound like in your own life?
Drop a comment or reach out—I’d love to hear how you’re learning to say no, not just to others, but for yourself.
© 2025 Amelie Chambord

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