By Jae Newton,
Forward Times
https://www.forwardtimes.com/
What if FOMO isn’t about fear at all? This past weekend made me question that more than ever. The HBCU Classic in Vegas — Grambling vs. Jackson State — was historic: the first time this matchup was happening in Vegas. All semester, I had been preparing for it — interviews, press coverage, games — everything I did was building toward this moment. I even pictured myself on the Vegas Strip, seeing the band perform, soaking in the energy, experiencing it all for the first time ever.
As a student reporter for Grambling State University’s radio station, I had been looking forward to this opportunity for months. But when it came down to it, the station didn’t have the budget to bring the entire crew. They were only sending the commentators for the game, which meant I, the sideline reporter, was not included.
Every time someone mentioned Vegas, it stung. I was supposed to be there. Even my peers would ask or assume I was going, and hearing “why aren’t you going?” repeatedly made it feel more real. It wasn’t just missing an event. I’m literally the only one at Grambling State who does what I do — getting interviews, statements, and speaking with alumni and other notable people. There’s so much opportunity for angles of coverage for the game, and it felt like I was missing in my own lane.
And what really made it worse? The school took students with “media passes,” but honestly, almost none of them were actually media students. Maybe a couple had cameras, but the rest? I don’t even know how they got credentials. They were just taking up space on the sideline while I was missing out.
When Vegas fell through, I had a backup plan: Prairie View Homecoming. I had just gotten my car out of the shop, but driving five-plus hours, then all around Houston, then back to Grambling clearly wasn’t the move. My friend was willing to take us, but her check engine light came on the same day. On top of that, the weather in Texas was awful — gloomy, rainy, and not the kind of weekend you want to be driving long distances.
So I couldn’t go to Vegas, and I couldn’t really go home or to PV to see my family. I ended up just going out to eat with my roommates and then coming back to sit in my bed. It wasn’t exciting or glamorous, and it made seeing everyone else on the Vegas Strip, watching the band perform, even harder — especially because I had never been to Vegas before. That was a new experience I was looking forward to, and it was happening without me.
Still, I’m glad Grambling ended up winning the game. People said we had only a 10% chance of winning, and Jackson State hadn’t lost to anyone in the SWAC. They even won the SWAC Championship last year. Seeing Grambling pull off the win made me proud and reminded me that even when I’m not physically there, I’m still part of the legacy and the moment.
Is it really FOMO if you’re not fearful of missing out, but instead grieving an experience you imagined yourself in? People would call this FOMO — fear of missing out — but for me, it wasn’t really fear. I already knew what was going to happen: people would have fun, memories would be made, and I would see it all on social media. What hurt was seeing life happen in a place where I felt like I was supposed to be. I scrolled through everyone’s posts and stories, and even though I was genuinely happy for them, it still stung.
That’s the thing about FOMO — it’s not always about fear. Sometimes it’s grief for an experience you imagined yourself in.
Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that all things work together for the good of those who love God.” And Psalm 46:10 reminds us, “Be still, and know that I am God.” I had to shift my perspective. If I was meant to be at either place, it wouldn’t have been this complicated. No matter who I asked, what I tried, or how much I wanted it, it just wasn’t aligning. Sometimes God protects you by keeping you grounded and by blocking doors you think you need to walk through.
Looking back, I realize there were small blessings in the chaos. I saved money by not traveling, got a break I desperately needed mentally, avoided bad weather, and had a calm weekend with my roommates. I also had to work that weekend, which I didn’t even know at first — a reminder that staying home had its own purpose. Not everything that feels like a loss actually is.
Healing from FOMO is about perspective. It’s about recognizing that missing out doesn’t make you less, that you don’t need to be everywhere to have value, and that God sometimes holds back experiences for a reason. Not all access is alignment, and not all plans are yours to execute.
My weekend wasn’t “turnt” by any means, but it was purposeful. I’m learning to accept that FOMO isn’t always a villain. Sometimes it’s a teacher, showing you when to pause, breathe, and trust the timing of your own journey.
I didn’t get the Vegas moment I pictured, and yes, it hurt to see the band, the lights, and the energy from afar. But I gained clarity, rest, and perspective I didn’t even know I needed.
Healing from FOMO means trusting that what’s meant for you will come — maybe not today, not this weekend, and not in the way you imagined. I didn’t ask for that lesson, but I’m grateful I learned it.
