Dear Zad is a write-in column where readers can seek advice from their trusted Zad on all their gay dilemmas. Please note that Zad is not a licensed or qualified counsellor, but is qualified in not sugar-coating your petty dramas when you are having a full meltdown. You can find him shit-posting on Insta at @joshmayhewnyc.
Dear Zad. How do I avoid FOMO? Thanks in advance! (@and***on2)
Listen, lil bb: there is only one mantra to remember when you start to feel like you are missing out: whatever you are doing is just as important as what anyone else is doing. The trick is to believe it!
Whether you are absent by choice or not, I would ask yourself: are you “missing out” or are you just “doing something else”? What makes whatever they are doing somehow more valuable than what you are doing? Not everyone can attend every little thing happening in their local reality.
In fact, it can be argued that seeming too available is almost just as passé as being a total shut-in. Picking and choosing is far more alluring than simply being available and present at every night out and every vacation and every happy hour.
Lastly, don’t be deceived by social-media induced FOMO! That IG story of your pals gay-screaming and shot-taking will conveniently exclude the pounding hangover, the lost debit card, and the waking up in Coney Island with a twisted ankle and a stolen iPhone 12. (Hypothetically speaking, of course, and certainly not referring to myself in 2009.)
New memories being made is a revolving door, and not a one-shot type of deal. You’ll be where you need to be when you need to be there. In the meantime: whether you have a broken ankle or you simply wanna lay on your IKEA rug farting up your living room and watching Grey’s Anatomy for the 16th time, I’m proud of you, and you’re doing great sweetie.
Watch your Netflix. Sit around with your thumb up your butt. You deserve it. Xx.
How can I stop taking it personally when people unfollow me on socials? It feels pretty personal. (From @All***geo)
Lemme let you in on a secret. A handful of years ago, back when I still gave a flying pig fuck about Instagram, I too found myself irritated or confused when someone deleted me.
In weaker moments, younger Joshie might have ~allegedly~ even confronted a bitch or two over it.
But here’s the big takeaway that took me years to figure out: if they ain’t here for it, then why tf would you want ‘em here for it?
Losing followers is a beautiful thing, and the natural order of things. We all know the term, “let the trash take itself out” but when you begin to believe it, it will become your favourite fuckin’ kink.
You will begin to love watching the toxic ones drop away, and the good ones show up and stick around.
So in conclusion, Padawan, it can only be one of two ways: either they delete you and show their own shady asses out, or they lurk in the background watching your photos and stories in self-loathing disgust.
Which would you prefer?
For more shit posting from Josh, check him out on Instagram @joshmayhewnyc