FOFI ho-hum, I have a fear of fitting in

I’ve never been big on group activities, and I’m desperate not to be part of the human herd. But at what cost?

When Beyonce´ came to New Zealand, social news feeds were filled with thousands of pictures of the superstar in a sequinned blue dress.

There were endless shots from every angle imaginable. Whether it was from the front AAA gold seats, further back, the side halfway up, or the very back of the arena, there she was a speck or tiny blue glittery something. Beyonce´ , Beyonce´ , Beyonce´ . Yes you were at Beyonce´ . Thank you.

Wait. Another slew of Beyonce´ in same dress the next night. I like Beyonce´ but I got a little ‘‘eye-rolly’’ after 48 hours of blue sparkly blob pictures as I scrolled on through my newsfeed.

I’ve never been big on group activities. Not a fan of being in a concert crowd, big rugby game, or watching a parade. I like people, but I don’t like mass hysteria and pushing, shoving, and fans spilling beer on me as they, with various degrees of sobriety, go back and forth to the bar.

The afternoon of our recent blood moon I was chatting to a group of girl mates, all amped up for the eclipse. I ventured bravely to say: ‘‘It’s going to be a Beyonce´ moment all over again.’’

They looked at me quizzically. I snorted and rolled my eyes till I almost strained my eye muscles.

‘‘Social media newsfeeds are going to be all bloody moon shots in the morning. Thousands of pictures of a red moon from every amateur photographer with a decent Samsung Galaxy or iPhone 12.’’

They just looked at me briefly and carried on with their ‘‘pre-extravaganza moon chat’’. Another of the group chimed in: ‘‘Don’t put your crystals out tonight. It’s very, very bad for crystals.’’

I stood silently but, inside, my inner eyes were rolling like marbles on slate.

I joined in on social by posting a link to Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart and The Waterboys Whole of the Moon and waited to witness the event privately in my backyard. I fell asleep. Damn! However, I clearly shouldn’t have felt concern because, sure enough, in the morning there was no escape from pictures of the red moon, from everyone else’s backyard, waterfront, roof and local beach.

There were even a few shaky videos capturing the group excitement. For some stupid reason it truly irritated me. My problem not theirs.

I realised this, when I actually took time to compute, even admit, that everyone else was sharing something rather fabulous together. I’m the freak.

Instead of feeling FOMO

(fear of missing out), I get FOFI (fear of fitting in). I’m the cynic. I’m desperate not to be part of the human herd, but at what cost?

Faith in crystals, and astrology, and auras, is not my thing. Shared, highly anticipated activity is not my thing, but quite clearly it’s important for most normal humans to band together and enjoy a historic group experience.

It’s evident most people long to be part of the event, not standing at the back of the room alone, or slyly peeking at life through a venetian blind. Believing crystals are more than just pretty rocks may make me snigger, but it’s truly a form of showing my faith and believing in something.

I’m still not convinced a moon eclipse can affect a piece of amethyst but who am I to question someone else’s faith? I chose to believe in Santa and a higher force observing me through some invisible space and time portal. (Too much Dr Who as a child?).

Let’s be frank . . . those beliefs are less concrete than the tangible surface of a crystal. So Beyonce´ and blood moon shots may seem banal to me, but I dare say it is me missing out on the joy of belonging and being present.

I still believe in Santa.

‘They looked at me quizzically. I snorted and rolled my eyes till I almost strained my eye muscles.’