I missed the last Christmas with my mom before she passed away from cancer.

The fear of missing out (FOMO) is something most of us can relate to, especially in this generation. Social media gives us this illusion that we have to experience everything while we can. But life simply doesn’t work like that.

In this blog, I’m sharing my own experiences of missing out on important moments—things that weren’t always as pretty as they might look on my social media.

In 2022, I finished my Animal Care Management degree and, like so many people after COVID, I had this huge desire to travel. So, I went to Sweden to volunteer on a Dutch farmer’s farm. In exchange for working with cows, I got free housing, breakfast, and sometimes a little bit of money.

This was my first long period away from home. I was just 19. Back then, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. The farmer was Dutch, and Sweden felt safe. I thought it was the ideal place to start traveling. I was excited, but after a long day of traveling with plane, bus, and train I remember calling my mom, it was such a weird feeling to imagine that I’d be there for 9 whole weeks. I had never been abroad alone for that long.

When I leave home, I’m always excited and the dopamine takes over—I go into “survival mode.” Imagine You’re sharp and mentally focused. But then you arrive, the pace slows down, and reality kicks in. You’ve left your comfort bubble, and now you’re far away from everything familiar. You’re exhausted, and reflecting on all the change gets hard. In my opinion, these are tough moments because, even though you’ve arrived safely, you realize you have to start from scratch without knowing what’s coming. I called my mom after I arrived in Sweden, and she gave me useful but typical advice: “Cecile, go to bed and sleep.”

As a teenager abroad, I was alone with my thoughts a lot. I worked with animals, so most of my interactions were during breakfast or work explanations. There wasn’t much social contact outside the job, which meant I had endless time to think. Being on my own forced me to become more independent, and that opened up so many new perspectives. I started thinking a lot about my relationship with my parents and family, and how much it had shaped me as a person. Now that I was alone, there was no one around to judge my daily decisions, and for the first time, I realized how much freedom that gave me. Without the weight of family expectations, I could finally make choices without caring what anyone thought.

I don’t like to talk badly about my parents or my childhood because I know they were trying to do their best. But, honestly, there are things that affected me as an adult and left marks on who I became. I started realizing all of this while I was in Sweden, feeling vulnerable and isolated. It was definitely the hardest chapter of my journey.

I didn’t know my own boundaries yet. I had moments where I would get anxious and I was constantly overthinking everything. The loneliness overwhelmed me. I cried more than I ever had before. As a people pleaser, I was constantly draining myself just to get recognition for my work. Even though it was hard, being abroad still felt better than being at home, where I felt like the black sheep.

After 9 weeks in Sweden, I suggested to the farmer that I’d like to come back. Being away from home felt like a relief. But in reality, I was hiding from everything, hoping no one would notice how I was really feeling. I went home for a month but already planned my return in December, deciding to spend Christmas in Sweden and avoid the holiday with my family.

Honestly christmas didn’t hold much significance for me back then. I’m not religious and don’t believe in Santa Claus, so the holiday felt like a superficial excuse to gather and eat. spending Christmas in Sweden felt like the perfect way to avoid all that. No pressure to fit in, no judgments about what I was wearing or how I was living my life. In the past, family conversations often left me feeling judged for my choices—whether it was about my future studies or lifestyle decisions—which made gatherings feel more like a performance than a celebration. In Sweden, I could just be myself, without having to pretend or play along with expectations that weren’t mine.”

After my mom passed away, a lot of those frustrations started to fade. I guess I’ve matured enough to see that people act from what they believe is right, even if it didn’t always feel right to me. My mom must have had her own struggles, and in her own way, she was doing the best she could. She wasn’t perfect, but neither was I. Over time, I stopped holding onto those old bad feelings and started focusing on the good memories instead. Losing her even brought me closer to my dad. But back then, feeling like the black sheep made me want to escape.

So, I stayed in Sweden for Christmas and later, I changed my flight to stay until after New Year’s too. When I called my mom to tell her, she was disappointed. She had wanted me to be home, but she let me do what I wanted because she wanted me to be happy. How beautiful is it, really, that someone can love you so much they’re willing to let you do what makes you happy, even when it hurts them? My mom must have felt so much pain knowing I didn’t want to be home for these special occasions.

But in that version of myself—the one in Sweden—I was running from conflict, from being misunderstood, and from feeling overwhelmed. I thought I was protecting myself.

Another big reason I stayed in Sweden was a girl who worked on the farm. She was my first real crush. I admired her confidence and the way she seemed not to care what people thought. She gave me emotional support I hadn’t experienced before, and I fell hard for her. I’m sure that this also impacted my decisions.

I had told her how I felt during my first stay in Sweden, but it wasn’t mutual. She said she wasn’t ready for a relationship. So, I held on to hope. But when I returned in December, she had a boyfriend. I was happy for her, but also hurt. I stayed, doing anything just to be around her.

I thought that if I left Sweden, I’d miss out on any chance of being close to her. Even though my mind knew nothing romantic would happen, my heart couldn’t let go of that hope.

Looking back, I now see I stayed in Sweden out of fear—fear of missing out on a connection that wasn’t even real. But in doing so, I missed something far more important: my last Christmas with my mom. The regret I carry now is a reminder that FOMO can lead us to make the wrong choices.

In hindsight, staying wasn’t just about FOMO. It was about my mental state. I wasn’t just avoiding a holiday I didn’t care about; I was avoiding my emotions. My relationship with my mom had tension. She made comments about my appearance, my choices, reflecting her own insecurities onto me.

As someone who’s probably highly sensitive, I just couldn’t handle the weight of being at home. Staying in Sweden felt like the only way to escape that pressure. I thought I could avoid dealing with everything by staying.

But in doing so, I missed out on something far more important—my last Christmas with my mom. It’s a regret I carry with me, but I’ve learned from it. You can’t run from difficult feelings; they follow you. In the end, the fear of missing out on life and its most important moments should always be bigger than the fear of facing hard emotions.