Okay real talk, babes 🎉 – when’s the last time you canceled plans without feeling guilty? I used to be that girl clutching three iced lattes while speed-walking to a networking event I didn’t care about, all because FOMO had me in a chokehold. Then one Tuesday, mid-“urgent” Slack thread about font sizes, I realized: My soul had become a Pinterest board of other people’s priorities.
Let’s unpack this cult of busyness 🤯. We’ve been sold hustle porn dressed as “self-care” – morning routines requiring 17 steps, side hustles masquerading as “passion projects,” and brunches that feel like emotional auditions. But here’s the plot twist neuroscience dropped on me: Our brains literally can’t multitask. That “productive” email-Instagram-TED Talk juggle? You’re just rapid-cycling through partial attention, burning cortisol like it’s Zara sale day.
My awakening came during a pottery class (cliché, I know 🏺). For two hours, my phone stayed buried under clay-crusted towels. No podcasts playing. No “quick work check.” Just me and this weirdly sensual lump of earth. And guess what? I left feeling more creatively charged than after any productivity hack webinar. Turns out, depth is the new dopamine.
Let’s get tactical 🛠️:
– I started “subscription cleansing” – unsubscribed from 89% of “must-read” newsletters
– Created “focus caves” (not a cute aesthetic – actual phone-free zones)
– Said “I’ll pass” to two weddings and a baby shower (zero regrets)
The magic? My anxiety acne cleared up. My D-list screenplay got optioned. I actually remember conversations now. Studies show it takes 23 minutes to refocus after an interruption – imagine how many shower epiphanies we’ve drowned in notifications!
To the girl feeling FOMO about JOMO: Your worth isn’t measured in calendar slots. That viral tweet was right – “You’re not lazy, you’re allergic to superficiality.” Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a library book older than my skincare routine.