Welcome to JAFAQs, a new weekly series that is exactly what it sounds like: answers to the most common questions I've gotten since I started addressing my $20k of personal debt.
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This week’s JAFAQ: How do you deal with FOMO on a budget?
I tend to live in extremes. Travel for a month, stay locked in my house for a month (or six).
Try as I may to remind myself that I was *literally just in Paris drinking very good wine for very little money,* walking around Brooklyn in the late summer heat, past the people lingering over a bottle of sunset orange-colored wine still stings a little bit.
That’s how I found myself making a beeline for home the other night where, on the radio I left tuned to WNYC before I left, the hosts were busy discussing the “the best new pizza places in town.” Is nowhere safe? I asked myself, feverishly bookmarking the best-sounding ones in Google Maps for a future that's more flush with cash.
I have been that person sitting at the fancy wine bar. I may very well be her one day again. But I’m not right now. And before I started paying down my debt, I was often that person without stopping to think: Could I afford it? Did I want to do it? — these were questions deemed unimportant.
At this point, though, I’ve gotten pretty good at thinking and acting in tandem with those questions, not in spite of them. Because, quite frankly, I’ve had to. Sometimes, it sucks. But other times, I’d go so far as to say that it feels pretty good. Protecting yourself, and your time, and your money! feels pretty damn good.
With that, here’s how I deal with FOMO.
How I started feeling comfortable saying no
Even the least people-pleaseriest people among us have, at one point or another, felt a twang of guilt whilst considering declining an invitation. Society dictates that we don’t miss out on celebrating others’ big milestones like weddings and bachelorettes and showers of both the bridal and baby variety and it’s a fine line declining a “let’s grab dinner and catch up!” text messages without kind of seeming like an asshole.
Beyond that, these things (well, some of them, anyway) are pretty fun. You may actually want to do them. And maybe you don’t have anything else going on that day. I used to believe that if I didn’t have a “reason” to decline an invite (aka if I had nothing else to do), I should accept the invitation.
When I started to think of my time as actually valuable, it helped me get way clearer on what the things are that I actually want to say yes to. Even if I had “nothing else” to do (which, by the way, isn’t true — working on your art or reading a book or cooking yourself dinner and putting on a face mask at home are, in fact, things to do).
Now, I often take at least a few hours if not a few days to respond, and remind myself that an invitation is just that — an invitation. Not a demand. Most of the people in my life at this point know I’m working toward a financial goal, so when I can’t swing something, I feel comfortable saying so. But saying “I’m not up for it right now,” or just “I can’t,” is perfectly acceptable, too. Most people, I’ve found, won’t follow up with “why not?” if you don’t hand them a laundry list of excuses.
When I pass a new, cool restaurant either on the street or on the internet, I bookmark it for later. Maybe it will fit into the budget this month, or maybe it will be a place I go to celebrate another debt milestone. It feels 1000x better to do that than to sit at that restaurant calculating exactly how much the bill is going to be and how I’m going to be able to afford it.
Things that suck about saying no to things
Of course, sometimes it just sucks to say no to something. I’ve declined going to weddings of people I really care about, I’ve missed birthdays, the aforementioned new restaurants (do you know how many restaurants there are in New York?) I am very lucky to have a close knit group of friends who enjoy cooking (and also happen to be great at it) and another close group of friends who, at any given moment, would rather be sitting in the corner of a room talking to each other than in a loud, crowded bar.
But, especially as a single person, widely refraining from being out in the world takes a toll. Sometimes the $20 cocktail makes you feel alive even if it kills you to admit. And going out, though not a sure bet, can be really fun! But going out and finding creative ways to have fun, without dropping $20 on a cocktail is a load of fun, too.
Finally, sometimes it’s just plain lonely. I’ve romanticized the hell out of staying in and watching a movie countless times this year, but sometimes when I’m sitting alone in my house I sit around looking at my phone too much. Or it’s just kind of boring. Or I sit around looking at my phone too much. All I can say to that is that there is growth in loneliness, there are chances to actually feel things in the quiet. That one is an eternal work in progress, but an important one.
Alternatives to saying no
Want to meet up for a walk?
Want to try that new coffee place instead?
Want to have a picnic?
Want to meet for a drink before or after dinner?
WANT TO HAVE A POTLUCK?
Want to order in? (ordering in alone is too expensive, but ordering in with a group is at least much more cost effective than going out).
Want to come over and open a bottle of wine / kombucha / seltzer?
Want to see a movie (also much cheaper than dinner!)
Things I remind myself of when I say no to things
I will never forget how nervous I was to decline that first invite, that first plan last July. I feared it all: Will my friends hate me? What if I never get invited anywhere ever again? What will they say about me? WHAT WILL THEY SAY ABOUT ME?
It’s true, I’ve had to get comfortable with people potentially being disappointed with me, upset with me — even angry with me (the horror!) in the time I’ve spent paying down debt. It sucks. But it’s also freeing. Every reaction you get is information — your real friends aren’t getting mad at you for declining an invitation. I’ve found myself almost brought to tears thinking about the ways my community has accommodated my sudden desire to spend less over the past year.
Also, the knowledge of my actual financial situation, my mental health situation and the general sense of who I am is worth one million bottles of fancy wine bar wine. It’s all worth it.
Answering more questions & comments below. I love you, bye!
Jamie AF
proof of past wine/frites times.