We Fear Losing Control More Than Losing
One of the most beautiful feelings in the world is when you are dreading something — truly dreading it — and then it turns out perfectly, and you emerge from it victorious. This includes everything: that awkward conversation you were dreading, that presentation, that journey, that difficult task.
Underlying all of this is a common anxiety. But it's not simply about anticipating the worst possible outcome — this is a different kind of anxiety. One where you are dreading the task more than the outcome. Your subconscious doesn't conjure the worst-case scenario; it fixates on the exact scenario you are dreading.
There are layers to our anxiety and our mind's defence mechanisms that we don't fully acknowledge. There are tasks that make us uncomfortable. There are conversations where we are holding so much back, terrified we might blurt out something we'd regret.
So first there is a script we must adhere to. Then there is a restraint we must maintain. We have to stop ourselves from slipping into unwanted territory. The pressure of that restraint — of following the invisible instructions — is what breeds the anxiety. It's not the outcome per se, but the fear of losing control of the conversation or task on our own terms that gives us the jitters.
It's like bungee jumping. You don't imagine the mangled mess of your body — your mind struggles to go there. You imagine slipping through the harness. The real dread isn't the fall; it's the breach of protocol.
The farther you are outside your comfort zone, the greater the anxiety. In bungee jumping, you are completely outside it. In a difficult conversation, you are juggling too many things at once, hoping nothing unravels.
And here's the thing — if things do spiral out of control, you actually know how to handle it, because it enters familiar territory. You react instinctively, the conflict resolves itself, and the anxiety dissolves. The pressure lifts.
But if you somehow hold that conversation together, or deliver the project exactly as planned, what follows is profound relief. This carries a real advantage — you pushed yourself beyond your comfort zone and came out intact. It feels like victory because you stuck to the plan.
Most of our worry isn't always about the worst-case scenario. Sometimes we dread the awkward conversation precisely because we don't trust ourselves to hold the line — to apply restraint, to stay on script. Sometimes, not being yourself is the hardest task of all.