Fear: It's the great pretender

How your fear dupes you into believing it's something else

“The beginning of wisdom is to call things by their right names” - Old Chinese proverb, attributed to Confucius

Hello. My name is Fear and I’m the great pretender.

Photo by Alexandra Gorn on Unsplash

I masquerade as a host of other things, depending on the unique make-up of the person I’m trying to sabotage, under the guise of keeping them ‘safe’ from hurt.

Here are some of my masks, focusing particularly on the areas of love and success:

Fear of love

For those who fear intimacy - a close, loving relationship - because we are scared of getting hurt again or of being abandoned or rejected, I may show up as a shortage of time.

I don’t have time to date online.

I don’t have time to get out and meet new people.

I don’t have time for a second date.

I don’t have time to pursue a relationship.

I don’t have time to give this person the benefit of the doubt.

I don’t have time to gather more information about my date.

I’m so busy. Work is hectic. I haven’t got space to breathe, let alone think about dating.

For those who fear love, I might also show up as a scarcity mentality, a set of unhelpful beliefs that ring somewhat true but are designed to stop me from dating and keep me out of close relationships.

There aren’t any good men/women/people out there.

All the good ones are taken.

Online dating is a nightmare.

(I’m not denying the challenges of dating, especially online, but there are plenty of success stories and we only need to find one person).

For those who fear an intimate relationship, I may also show up as fault-finding or high standards (there is, of course, nothing wrong with having high standards but our fear often masquerades as harsh judgement or criticism, which pushes the other person away, creating distance and killing any prospect of connection).

I don’t think that guy is right for me because he’s not ambitious or career-driven enough (I rejected my now husband on these grounds, until I understood that my fear of abandonment was sabotaging my happiness).

I don’t think they’re right for me because they didn’t go to university or they don’t speak a second language or they earn less than me or their background is too different to mine.

I don’t think she’s right for me because she’s too curvy or not curvaceous enough, or too chatty or not chatty enough.

Preferences are preferences but judgement and criticism act as barriers, stopping us from even trying to gather more information (remember, the early stages of dating are all about gathering information).

A fear of romantic love may also show up as an attraction to emotionally unavailable people/commitment-phobes, or as compulsive dating of unhealthy types.

I can’t possibly be scared to love because I’m always falling head over heels for people. I can’t be afraid of being in a relationship because I’m always dating someone (we may look like we’re pursuing relationships, but if we’re pursuing commitment-phobes, or frequently falling for them, this is a sign that we are scared of real relationship, because commitment-phobes can never give us the intimacy we both crave and fear. I was scared of abandonment and I kept dating commitment-phobes because, to my subconscious, they felt ‘safe’).

Fear of Success

For those who are afraid of success - of being seen, of putting their art, writing, music or other form of creativity out into the world - because they’re scared of being mocked or humiliated or criticised or disliked or judged as not good enough, I may also show up as an absence of time.

I don’t have time to finish my novel (in my case, my novel needs a fresh round of edits and suddenly I’m very busy with other work).

I don’t have time to write and publish my Substack post because I have to tidy my desk, do the laundry or go to the supermarket (all necessary tasks but do you really need to do them right now, in prime writing time?).

I don’t have time to write my non-fiction book because I must first do hours of research on the topic, even though I’m already an expert, and read lots of other books on similar themes to make sure I haven’t missed anything (guilty as charged).

As shown in the last example above, fear of success may also masquerade as perfectionism, along with indecision and confusion.

I can’t start writing yet because I need to find the perfect notebook or the perfect first line for my book (hint: your first line will likely change many times or get edited out). Or I can’t start painting yet because I need a bigger canvas and a new palette.

I can’t decide whether to write my novel in the first or third person (I went around in circles with this one for many months - a great avoidance tactic).

There are so many agents to submit to, I can’t decide which one to choose (so I won’t take any action and my book will stay on my hard drive).

I don’t understand technology so I won’t self-publish, despite my book being ready to go.

There isn’t space for my book in the world - someone has written it already, or something similar.

All these statements sound reasonable and rational.

Of course they do.

Our fear is an accomplished pretender, subtle, manipulative, clever.

Be suspicious

Now we’ve established that our fear wears many masks, what do we do next?

Awareness is the first step to change.

We call out our fear. We call it by its proper name.

We also call ourselves out when we hear ourselves saying that we don’t have time or that the book market is too crowded or that the music scene is overrun with teenagers or that the dating apps are full of no-hopers or that the guy we’ve just met isn’t good enough for us or that my novel needs a rewrite before I send it out into the world (even though mine definitely does!).

We ask the critical question:

Is this my fear or is this my intuition, instinct or wise inner voice? (I write more about this question in relation to finding love in my book, How to Fall in Love).

We take steps to understand our fears - their deep roots, the job they are trying to do in our lives, the hurt they are trying to prevent - and we make friends with our intuition by hanging out with it, in meditation, prayer, journaling, Nature and so forth.

And we talk things through with someone else, with someone who’s willing to call us out rather than reinforce our fear-based preconceptions, with someone who’s able to say to us, ‘Are you sure that’s your instinct? Could it not be your fear?’

Finally, we walk towards our deepest fears - of being seen, of loving and losing, of getting hurt, of abandonment and rejection, of being humiliated, of not surviving, of making the wrong choice, of getting it wrong, of others’ anger - ideally with the support of someone who is walking or has walked a similar path.

How does your fear show up?

What masks does it wear?

Can you relate to the examples above?

I hope this article helps you to look the great pretender in the eye, whip of its multiple masks and tell it to take a hike while you get on with the business of living wholeheartedly, loving courageously and being all that you can be in the world.