The Cure for FOMO

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I am not exaggerating when I say that I suffered from FOMO (fear of missing out) my whole entire life.  I was a single child and although my father had more children after me, neither him nor them were in my life, so I was pretty much on my own.  Everyone around me had siblings, it seemed.  Most people also lived surrounded by other kids, in buildings with neighbors, in communities where everyone played together.

I was a busy child, between music school, elementary school, language courses and numerous school activities, from choir, drama, basketball, math team, I really didn’t have so many consistent friends.  This is why to this day, people that I went to school with are some of the most intimate relationships I have.  I wasn’t lonely, by all means, but I tried so hard to be everywhere and be everything for everyone.  I tried so hard to please.

Looking back, reflecting, I have compassion for that little girl that wanted so badly to “belong” to be a part of something bigger.  I understand the yearning even now as I am approaching 40.  Yet, I think that yearning had me look for the outside sources for my own personal happiness and that’s, ultimately, what needed to be rewired.

I must say that motherhood kicked my ass.  Even when I had my first son, Adrian, I was beginning to see that I don’t have the freedom I once had.  We moved from Montreal to Florida and then back to New York City and I was constantly in search of people and communities to belong to.  When I had my second son, Marko, this is where having to stay at home, missing events my friends were going to, and having to say NO became more of a norm rather than the exception.  I was hurting inside.  It felt like I was going to be forgotten and the more I thought I’d be forgotten, the more I wanted to be visible, to share my life.

In a sense, that is what I am doing now.  I am sharing my life on Instagram, which connects to my Facebook.  I also recently revived this blog and started posting my videos on my Youtube channel.  So yes, all my actions are showing that I want to be out there, that I want to be SEEN, HEARD, KNOWN yet something deep inside shifted: this longing to not miss out on life.  I realized, my life is where I am. I created my business, my clients, my husband, my children, my home.  What I have is completely a product of what I worked for and instead of having to go out and mingle with people all the time, I am using this time to ground myself in who I am and what my life is about.

This weekend, there was an event where over 2000 women joined to celebrate what it is to be a woman and I was supposed to be a part of it.  I got sick and couldn’t let my husband, who also got sick, stay at home alone to take care of the kids.  So I cancelled and stayed “behind.”  This morning, when my husband took the kids to the park, I turned on some music and processed my sadness and feelings of missing out through my body.  I did what those women were doing in a room together (most likely anyway), but I did it at home.  It allowed me to accept myself and my life.  I truly believe that when we honor who we are and where we are in life, things can actually change.  I am not chasing that change anymore, I simply allow it. In a meantime, I am happy exactly as I am.

 

 

Pregnancy – reality check (from August 27th, 2013 – about a week before I birthed my first son)

I think all of my life, with some rare occasions of being rebellious, I have wanted to be a wife and a mother.  Definitely, the moment I was clear I wanted to be in a relationship, I was looking forward to everything the relationship would bring: partnership, prosperity, wealth, marriage, and children.

I have envied people who were in powerful marriages, who got along well and at the sight of pregnant women, at least after my 20s, I was envious and jealous.

It’s not until I got pregnant myself that illusions of the miraculous child birthing were beginning to crash.  Namely, I had visions of working and being completely mobile until the day of delivery and have found myself exhausting and sick for almost my entire first trimester.  My breast were getting bigger and it was painful.  I could no longer sleep on my stomach which is how I liked to sleep since I was born.  The worse thing was, no one could tell I was pregnant, because nothing showed on the outside, so I wouldn’t necessarily get a better treatment while in a metro or waiting in a line.

Then second trimester came and I had felt much better. I could finally eat food again (something other than lemons, grapefruits and sour cabbage), but my body was changing.  Now, I wasn’t looking pregnant but slightly chubby and for someone who suffered from extra weight and many impacts of that in my teenage years, that was a big mental struggle to overcome.  Don’t get me wrong, I wanted my baby more than anything else, but the way I felt was hardly matching or feeling like it’s  a fair price to pay.  Mind you,  I am talking about healthy pregnancy.  I cannot even imagine what women who have slight complications have to go through.

And finally, I am approaching the end of last trimester, very close to delivery.  I have interviewed more than 50 mothers, checked about different ways of delivery etc.  And, it seems that, while there is a small percentage of women who were mind strong and were able to have a relatively easy and natural delivery, most women had some kind of complication, lot’s of pain and perhaps some further impacts in their life from birthing their child (or children).  Yes not one of them is ongoingly complaining and most of them did all they could to put that experience behind the moment they brought life into the world, but I know, from having talked to all of them, that they all experienced pain in the process.

Then a friend of mine recommended a book by Ina May and on her website, even prior to ordering, I found this quote:

“It’s not just the making of babies, but the making of mothers that midwives see as the miracle of birth.”

— Barbara Katz Rothman

I realized that there was more to it than what we initially get to see.  This fear that I had my whole life about birthing a child, as much it can be justified, is also a bit unnatural.  And, I am out to find out.  AS my friend said, affirming: “easy, natural, child birth!!!”