From lost to found

FOMO turns into There's no Place like Home

I used to love to go away. Always eager to move, to be away from wherever I was, I couldn’t wait to hit the road, to be transported to another location. I was secretly hoping that I would find another life, something better than what I currently had. From the time I was young I did the same thing wherever I went: imagine myself living there. Instead of being absorbed by castles and museums and new cities, I’d watch the people: did they look happier than I felt? Did they have fulfilling lives? Could I get one of those if I moved here?
I had FOMO before there was a name for it, always feeling left out, and it felt like I was stuck in a waiting room, waiting for my real life to begin.

As a kid I loved comic books. Mickey Mouse was my favourite, and I read every new comic book as soon as it arrived in my parents’ store (and then put it back on the shelf to be sold. Scrooge McDuck would approve). There was one particular story that enthralled me so much, I’ve never forgotten it in over 30 years.

It’s summer time, and the city is deserted. Everybody is away on vacation, but Mickey and Minnie Mouse are staying in the city. Instead of being upset about it, they embark on a series of magical adventures: candle-lit dinners slurping spaghetti while gazing deeply into each other’s eyes; moonlit walks through the park; dancing the night away to live music; having picnics by the lake; going swimming; cruising in a sporty little convertible with the top down over country lanes, their ears flying in the wind.

That story gave me a deep yearning that I couldn’t articulate. I loved it and it hurt reading it, and I was inexplicably jealous of two cartoon characters that weren’t even real. Back then I couldn’t put into words why this story gave me such rollercoaster emotions, but now I know: I was yearning for love, for someone who made life exciting, and for a place that felt like home but also like an adventure. I was yearning for the absence of FOMO, for the ability to make the best of a situation, and for inner peace. I had no idea how to find any of that. All I knew was that I didn’t have it, that I wanted, no needed it for my happiness, and that I wouldn’t rest until I found what those two cartoon rodents had in such ample supply.

Fast forward to last week. I was lying face down on the massage table, chatting to my massage therapist about work, summer, and life in general. At some point he asked me: “Are you going anywhere this summer?” I said no, and explained about having to work because of being short-staffed and that I went to Germany already that year. But as I was lying there, half listening to his response and half concentrating on my knotted muscles and how good/bad it felt to have him release the tension, a deep peacefulness enveloped me. There wasn’t a trace of regret that I wouldn’t go on another vacation this year, not even the tiniest bit of resentment that I was staying put. I was exactly where I wanted to be: in the place and with the person I had been looking for, living the life I had always dreamed of.

These days I’m happiest at home. I can listen to other people’s travels and be happy for them, without wishing to go away as well. Going for hikes with my dogs, kayaking in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been, working in a community that feels more like home than the place I grew up with is everything I’ve ever wanted. Somewhere along the way I’ve stopped looking at people and wanting their life. Now all I wish for is for everyone to find what we all want: love, belonging, safety, happiness.
In short: to be home.

The End