You know that restless itch when you scroll through Instagram and it feels like everyone else is moving faster than you?
Friends buying houses, colleagues jetting off to Bali, acquaintances getting engaged — meanwhile, you’re curled up on the couch, dinner still a mystery, wondering if you’ve somehow missed the memo on how to “have it all.”
I used to live in that feeling. There’s even a name for it: FOMO — the Fear of Missing Out.
But here’s the twist. There’s another side to that coin, a much gentler one, and it’s been quietly changing my life.
It’s called JOMO — the Joy of Missing Out. And if you’ve never heard of it, let me tell you: it’s not about giving up, it’s about letting go.
I didn’t really “find” JOMO — I stumbled into it, somewhere between the steep hills of Emilia-Romagna and a wild rabbit who decided my flowers made a perfect lunch buffet. But let’s start at the beginning.
When FOMO Was Running the Show
In my twenties, I had a very clear checklist for life: by 25, I’d be married, own an apartment, and maybe have a child. Reality had other plans.
Instead, I threw myself into my career. I earned a Master’s degree in International Relations, worked as a journalist, and ticked off all the boxes that sounded impressive on paper. I lived in Tallinn — small by global standards, but with a pulse quick enough to keep you hustling.
And yet… the more I achieved, the more I compared. It was exhausting. Every scroll through social media left me with a hollow feeling, as though my milestones didn’t “count” unless they matched someone else’s timeline.
Then came 2020, and for the first time in years, everything stopped. The pandemic brought remote work, slower mornings, and no more frantic commuting.
It also brought an unexpected conversation with my boyfriend about moving to his family’s house in the Italian countryside.
It sounded dreamy — the kind of thing you watch in “Under the Tuscan Sun” while thinking, wouldn’t that be nice. But this wasn’t fantasy. It was an actual, doable choice. So we packed our bags.
Learning to Breathe Again in Italian Countryside
The countryside doesn’t rush you. Time here feels… different. Mornings start with mist lifting off the hills, cypress trees catching the first light, and birdsong you don’t just hear — you notice.
It’s the kind of stillness you don’t realize you’ve been craving until you have it. I find myself doing things I never had time for before: sweeping the balcony, planting cucumbers and parsley, or taking the cat for a lazy walk through the yard.
Some days I hike into trails that smell faintly of wildflowers even in winter. Emilia-Romagna spoils you that way — mild seasons mean you can wander all year round. It’s not “nothing to do,” it’s “nothing that drains you.”
The Small Things Become Big
City life taught me to rush past the details. Countryside life made me fall in love with them.
The slow unfurling of seasons, the scent of rain on dry soil, the way the hills turn gold in late summer. Once, a wild rabbit appeared in our garden and decided to stay for a while.
I’d be watering the flowers and it would just… watch me, like a tiny, fluffy neighbor. It felt almost magical — the sort of thing that makes you pause mid-task and smile for no reason.
My Favorite Hidden Corners
Italy’s big cities are beautiful, yes — but the soul of the country hides in its small towns.
Since moving here, I’ve discovered hidden gems of Emilia-Romagna I never would have found on a tourist itinerary: Verucchio, San Leo, Bertinoro, Sant’Agata Feltria.
These borghi are like open-air history books, with cobblestone streets that twist and surprise you, and piazzas where the loudest sound is a coffee cup clinking onto a saucer.
On weekends, there’s almost always a food festival somewhere — and the locals show up with that contagious mix of pride and ease that makes you want to stay forever.
If medieval villages don’t quite spark your excitement, Emilia-Romagna has no shortage of vibrant cities to explore — from Ravenna’s mosaics to the lively streets of Forlì and the seaside buzz of Rimini.
How I Practice JOMO in Everyday Life
The countryside gave me the perfect backdrop, but JOMO isn’t about where you live only — it’s about how you choose to live.
Here’s what helps me keep it close:
1. Put the phone down
If I start feeling overstimulated, I take a mini social media break. No scrolling with my morning coffee. No “just checking” between tasks. The world doesn’t fall apart, and my brain feels lighter.
2. Move in ways that make me happy
For me, that’s a slow bike ride at sunset or a long walk without headphones. It’s not about burning calories — it’s about hearing the birds, smelling the peach blossoms, and letting the hills do their quiet magic.
3. Keep hobbies non-negotiable
Reading used to be “when I have time.” Now, it’s part of my day — as important as answering emails. JOMO means making space for what you love, not just what’s urgent.
4. Make mindfulness fit me
I’m not a cross-legged meditation type, but lying down with a guided session works. Ten minutes of breathing and I’m more present, less scattered.
The Joy in Missing Out
JOMO doesn’t mean I’ve sworn off busy days or exciting plans. It just means I choose them on my terms. The rest? I’m okay letting it pass me by.
And here’s the thing — the less I chase, the more I notice. A garden in bloom. The first sip of espresso on a chilly morning. A rabbit who moves in without asking.
Life feels bigger when you stop trying to do everything. And sometimes, missing out is exactly where the joy lives.
