I Have FOMO Over Charli XCX's Wedding, and You Can't Tell Me That Isn't Normal

On the first day of autumn, Benito Skinner reminded his Instagram followers of the true meaning of fall — that is, to "fall in love again and again." Specifically, on a Sicilian beach with all your hot, sweaty friends.

Yes, I'm talking about Charli XCX's wedding celebration, in which the glitterati of the chronically online (see: YouTube sensations like Amelia Dimoldenberg, pop stars like Troye Sivan, and Instagram comedians like Jordan Firstman) gathered on the rocky shores of Sicily to smoke cigarettes and eat giant prawns.

Now, I'm happy for them. Really, I am. But I'm also vibrating with enough FOMO to launch a thousand yachts, or whatever the bratty bunch rode in on to celebrate the union of Charli XCX and George Daniel.

Even at a time when everyone else seems eager to announce their "ROMO" — the relief of missing out — my FOMO still drives approximately 98 percent of my life decisions. I have so much FOMO that I even have FOMO about not having ROMO. (What, we're all having ROMO now and no one told me?)

No matter what I do, I'll always be a FOMO kind of gal. Having a party? I will be there. Going to dinner? Save me a seat. Telling a secret? My ears are open. I know we're all burnt out and overstimulated thanks to our screen addictions and the ceaseless demands of the capitalist agenda. And believe me, I feel that, too. But I've never understood how so many of my friends and peers can be so comfortable staying home while the rest of the world is sipping champagne and skinny dipping in the Mediterranean.

In general, celebrity parties (and the Instagram carousels they yield) are major FOMO triggers for me. No matter how much healing I've done in the almost 10 years I've been out of college, something about a mirror selfie at the Met Gala or seeing Caroline Polachek drink an Aperol spritz makes me feel like I'm 19 again and I didn't get the invite. I know these are just parasocial friends and not real friends, but the way Charli XCX's "Brat" album took over my summer last year makes me feel like I probably should have been on the guest list, too.

This is not a sob story for me, though. I've found that listening to my FOMO — or you could call it my curiosity, if you're feeling nice — has led me to say yes to some pretty special experiences of my own, from head-banging with punks in Dublin to cage diving with great whites near Cape Town and watching the sunrise from a rooftop in Mexico City. Though it's sometimes cast in an unflattering light, more often than not, my fear of missing out shape-shifts into my bliss for having participated.

As far as celebrity parties go, however, not all are created equal. I wasn't afflicted with an ounce of jealousy for any guest at the Bezos-Sánchez wedding. (I wouldn't touch that gathering of billionaires with a 4,000-mile-long pole.) But ever since I binged "Overcompensating" in the spring, I do have to admit that anything Skinner touches will have me foaming at the mouth.

Lorde, who was not pictured in any of these nuptial photo dumps, said it best in a comment on one of Charli's posts last week: "My FOMO activating." I guess in the end I'm never really that alone, am I?

Emma Glassman-Hughes (she/her) is the associate editor at Popsugar Balance. In her seven years as a reporter, her beats have spanned the lifestyle spectrum; she's covered arts and culture for The Boston Globe, sex and relationships for Cosmopolitan, and food, climate, and farming for Ambrook Research.