The Gift of Fear
Anyone who knows me knows that I don’t believe in living a life driven by fear. Many of the most meaningful decisions we make are uncomfortable, even frightening. That has certainly been true in my own life—becoming a parent, pursuing a graduate degree, and moving to the UK were all experiences that brought a significant amount of fear with them. And yet, they were also deeply worthwhile. Fear, in itself, is not the problem.
What matters is understanding which fear we are dealing with.
From a young age, we are often taught to dismiss fear. Sometimes that is appropriate. A child who believes there are monsters under the bed benefits from reassurance that the fear is not grounded in reality. Learning to challenge irrational fear is an important developmental step.
But not all fear is irrational.
There is another kind of fear—quieter, more subtle, and often easier to dismiss. It shows up as a sense that something is off. It is the discomfort you feel when someone stands too close, ignores a boundary, or behaves in a way that doesn’t quite sit right. It is the hesitation before getting into a car with someone who has been drinking. It is the internal signal that says, “pay attention.”
This kind of fear is not something to override. It is information.
Many people, and particularly women, are socialized to minimize or explain away these signals. We tell ourselves we are overreacting, that we don’t want to be rude, that it’s probably nothing. Over time, this can lead to a pattern of ignoring instincts that are actually working to protect us.
Years ago, I read The Gift of Fear by Gavin de Becker, and it fundamentally shifted how I understand fear. His work reframes fear not as something to suppress, but as an adaptive system—one that has helped humans survive for generations. When we dismiss it without consideration, we are ignoring a built-in source of awareness.
Recently, a client shared a situation that left him feeling uneasy. As he talked through it, it became clear that his discomfort was not arbitrary. It was a response to cues his mind and body were registering, even if he couldn’t immediately articulate why. Could those signals have turned out to be nothing? Possibly. But that is not the point.
The question is: why override a protective instinct in the first place?
Listening to ourselves does not mean becoming fearful of everything. It means developing the ability to differentiate between anxiety that limits us and intuition that informs us. That distinction is essential.
If this is something you have not thought much about, I strongly recommend The Gift of Fear. It offers a thoughtful framework for understanding how to evaluate fear, rather than simply reacting to it or dismissing it. Most importantly, it reinforces something many of us were never explicitly taught:
You can trust your instincts.
