fear of fear

Last Updated on May 10, 2026

One of the things we talked about in Mystery School today was “fear of fear.”

I realized how much of my life has been shaped not only by fear itself, but by trying to organize my life around avoiding fear.

Avoiding rejection.
Avoiding abandonment.
Avoiding being misunderstood.
Avoiding not being enough.
Avoiding not knowing.
Avoiding disapproval.
Avoiding feeling exposed, vulnerable, fragmented, disconnected from myself.

I notice how often I monitor whether I am on the inside or outside of a group, a relationship, a family system, a conversation.

Am I included?
Wanted?
Too much?
Not enough?
Too emotional?
Too intense?
Too self-absorbed?
Too vulnerable?
Too needy?
Too visible?

I notice how quickly my mind splinters into future scenarios.

Someone’s tone changes.
Someone takes longer to text back.
Someone seems disappointed.
Someone does not respond how I imagined.

My consciousness can instantly move away from the present moment and into monitoring, predicting, adjusting, managing.

Trying to preserve connection.

One of the deepest realizations I have had recently is that so much of my fear of abandonment has actually involved abandoning myself first.

Ignoring what I feel.
Ignoring discomfort.
Ignoring my body.
Ignoring my intuition.
Ignoring my limits.
Trying to become who I think someone else will approve of or feel comfortable with.

I have done this in relationships.
In intimacy.
In work.
In groups.
In family systems.
Even while writing and expressing myself publicly.

Sometimes I can feel myself fighting fear while I am speaking or creating.

Judging myself while expressing.
Trying to calculate how I am being perceived in real time.

It is exhausting, and honestly, it is getting boring.

Not because the pain is fake, it is real. What feels boring is the repetitive structure of the loop.

Monitor.
Adjust.
Anticipate.
Self-abandon.
Fear rejection.
Analyze.
Repeat.

There was also a conversation today about co-creating with fear versus co-creating with spirit.

Fear says:
control the outcome,
monitor constantly,
become who others need,
stay hypervigilant,
predict abandonment,
never fully relax.

Spirit, trust, presence says:
remain here,
stay embodied,
let reality unfold,
stay connected to yourself,
allow uncertainty,
participate honestly,
stop building identity around fear.

I could feel how deeply this connected to my experience with art and creativity.

When I was younger and studying art, I would have very specific ideas in my head about what I wanted to create. When the process did not match the image I had imagined, I would become frustrated and upset.

Later, while studying expressive arts therapy, I learned a completely different way of creating.

Closing my eyes.
Letting my body move.
Letting emotion move through color and texture and gesture.
Using materials I did not know how to control.
Following curiosity instead of perfection.
Allowing the process itself to inform the next step.

Creating through sensation, movement, intuition, and direct experience.

Without obsessing over the outcome.

Today I realized this feels connected to healing too.

Both creatively and relationally.

Because so much of my fear in relationships comes from trying to control outcomes.

Trying to guarantee belonging.
Trying to guarantee love.
Trying to guarantee safety.
Trying to guarantee I will not be abandoned or misunderstood.

Maybe healing does not come from finally becoming “enough.”

Healing comes from discovering I can stay connected to myself while imperfect.
While seen.
While vulnerable.
While uncertain.
While loved.
While misunderstood.
While inside relationship.
While not controlling the outcome.

I see this in my work too.

As a web and graphic designer, outcomes matter. Clients have visions. Branding matters. Functionality matters. When someone is very particular or does not like something I created, I can feel fear enter my body.

Freezing.
Self-consciousness.
Collapse.
Questioning myself.

It’s really hard to create when it’s clear someone doesn’t resonate with your ideas, and/or choices.

When I stop spiraling and return to the process, I make one tiny decision and another, one thing starts informing the next. I focus on one small piece at a time. I get out of the way enough for flow to emerge again.

The difference between creating from fear and creating from trust feels enormous.

Not blind trust, not denial or bypassing.

Trust that I do not have to fragment myself in order to participate in life.

One of the most important things I see now is that I actually have less fear than I used to.

Less fear of depression.
Less fear of mental illness.
Less fear of being alone.
Less fear of dying.

The places where fear still feels strongest are around intimacy, vulnerability, being seen, being naked emotionally and physically, and staying connected to myself while deeply connected to another person.

My deepest fear may not actually be rejection. It may be losing myself.

Leaving my center.
Overriding my body.
Abandoning my truth in order to preserve connection.

The fear system keeps asking:
How do I guarantee safety and belonging?

I am slowly discovering another possibility. What if belonging does not come from abandoning myself enough to maintain connection?

What if real belonging only becomes possible when I stay connected to myself while relating to others?

What if fear is not meant to completely disappear, but to stop organizing my entire experience of being alive?

We are alive.
This is what we know.

Maybe the practice is learning how to create from here instead of from fear.