Dreading party season? Then you've got FOGO* (*Fear Of Going Out)

She responds to every invitation with gusto, but as the event looms, Anna van Praagh is a serial canceller…
Me, myself and I: Natalie Portman in Hotel Chevalier
Anna van Praagh3 December 2015

It’s Thursday night and I’m supposed to be having dinner with friends in Shoreditch. When I agreed to this evening out six weeks ago I was full of enthusiasm. And, despite what I’ve told everyone, I’m not suffering from a debilitating ear infection — I feel absolutely fine. So why am I not out, but lying on my bed on my own drinking tea and watching TV?

Well, here’s the thing. Remember FOMO: Fear Of Missing Out? I’ve got the opposite, FOGO: Fear Of Going Out. Now obviously it’s not an actual phobia — more just an overwhelming urge that strikes whenever the chill winds are laying siege and I’ve planned yet another night out with frankly who knows who and the lure of my favourite way to while away an evening — you’ve got it, lying in bed watching TV — has become too strong to resist.

Everyone’s got one: the canceller. That’s me. I’m not proud of it, I spend a lot of time feeling incredibly guilty about it, but I just can’t stop. The problem is that I will agree to anything if you ask me far enough in advance. I find it impossible to decline an invite (and, to be fair to myself, is there ever a polite way to say you don’t want to meet up?).

I’d love to be able to say I only do this to distant acquaintances, never the people I genuinely love, but that isn’t the case. Take the other night. One of my oldest friends, Scarlett, was having a birthday party in Denmark Hill. Now I live in Acton and, I’m telling you, it’s not easy to make that journey. There’s a whole lot of train and Tube changing and even when you get there it’s a long walk. But I was really looking forward to going because she’s a great friend and it sounded fun. And I definitely didn’t want to not go, because it’s really bad not to go to your friends’ birthday parties and I personally get very antsy about people not turning up to mine. So what did I do? I cancelled at the last minute, of course, with some lame half-true excuse that I made sound a lot worse that it was. Then I felt so guilty that I didn’t speak to her for months.

If at this point you’re not turning the page in disgust, but realising that you, too, suffer from FOGO, let me assure you that far from being a social pariah you have more in common with your fellow Londoners than you think. Because this collective slump isn’t just about being such an idle friend you can’t even muster up the energy for the short walk to the Tube. Londoners work the longest hours in Europe, with some of us putting in 70-hour weeks. From the minute we wake up and check our emails to that last scroll through Twitter before we go to sleep, we are in a state of total stimulation, communication and information overload. We want to go out and see our friends, more than anything, but if we have to do everything else as well, then something has got to give.

Do you have FOGO?
Rex

Social media is also to blame. While our lives have never been this intertwined with our friends’, seeing so much of them online makes you less likely to feel the need to see them IRL. Sure, pressing the heart symbol on your smartphone when someone posts things isn’t exactly a guaranteed route to a fulfilling friendship, but it’s not like you’re out of touch.

I wish I were the kind of person who could go out with friends, have one glass of wine and a mint tea, but unfortunately that isn’t me. I will drink too much, I will definitely smoke and there is a good chance I will wake up the next morning with a crashing hangover and the strong sense I’ve been incredibly indiscreet/far too honest/said some deeply ridiculous things. More often than not it will be all three.

Also, while I used to think nothing of going out on a work night, I now have a three-year-old son who likes to wake up around 6am. I need seven hours’ sleep, so that means I have to be asleep by 11pm. Sometimes it just seems sensible to cancel, especially if I’ve got a lot of work on the next day. I should accept that’s the situation and factor it into my plans.

Christmas dresses - in pictures

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I used to think my shameful cancelling addiction was unique, but recently I have felt totally in tune with the zeitgeist. Just the other day Instagram comedian The Fat Jewish posted a picture of a man looking ecstatic with the tagline: ‘When someone cancels plans that you didn’t want to be a part of anyway. Last night was incredible. I got cancelled on and ate nachos while wearing a hoodie and socks but no pants or underpants.’

In fact, I’ve felt that the day leading up to a night out with friends has become a game of virtual chicken as you wait for who is going to jump first. (A word of advice to newbies: don’t cancel anything before 4pm. Any earlier and you forgo the chance of them cancelling you — a truly delightful outcome and one that will mean the next time you see them you won’t have to buy them dinner/travel all the way to Blackheath/go to their mother’s Christmas party or whatever other promise you will feel you have to make to assuage your guilt about messing them around. Any later and you might seriously inconvenience someone.)

Polly Morgan, the star taxidermist and former London art party fixture, says: ‘I’ve got FOGO badly. I know there is no better venue than my house with my boyfriend, my dogs and a fridge full of food in it. My favourite exercise is to decline an invitation and then, the following day, to scroll though all the Instagram pictures taken that night while relishing not having been there.’

Genius writer and former hellraiser Julie Burchill is also a sufferer, but her FOGO is only evening based. ‘I just like to be at home with my husband in the evenings — tragic but true,’ she says. ‘Mind you, I’m still capable of causing COMPLETE HAVOC at lunch parties.’Brigid Schulte, former award-winning Washington Post writer and author of Overwhelmed, advises that sometimes the guilt you feel when cancelling will taint the time regained: ‘When we’re busy and exhausted, we can often default to not going to an event we thought we ought to, then feeling guilty, which only ensures that we won’t fully inhabit and enjoy the experience we are having. So understand that. Look at your calendar and be kind to yourself — rather than expecting to be superhuman. Schedule activities that are really important to you — not because you feel obligated — and schedule in downtime to restore yourself.’ While it sounds revolutionary, scheduling in downtime just to be on your own and relax is clearly a great idea.

Nowadays cancelling is so rife among my friends that they will often put in emails: ‘If someone wants to cancel, can they do it before Monday as I’ll need to cancel the babysitter, ta. (I mean honestly, how pass-agg can you get?)

But they needn’t worry because I’m changing my wicked ways. I’m going to go to every Christmas party this year if it kills me. No more skulking away at home worrying about what excuse to use, or whether anyone will catch me out. Drinks parties, dinners, events, I’ll be there. Just you wait.

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