A few weeks ago, I talked about fear’s nasty habit of hijacking your internal keyboard and writing the most unflattering chapters of your life—complete with plot twists you never asked for and cliffhangers that don’t even pay off. "What I Fear I Create: When Fear Writes the Story – How to Take the Pen Back." (Spoiler: Fear is a control freak.)
So naturally, the next step is this juicy question:
What would you do if you weren’t afraid?
No really—pause. Let it land.
Let it echo in your gut before your brain talks over it.
Would you leave that draining job? Start your own thing? Move to Italy and learn how to make ravioli from someone’s nonna? Fall in love again? Say “I love you” first? Start painting? Tell the truth to someone who matters? Take singing lessons? Speak on a stage? Get a dog? Or my case, it might just be getting those two donkeys I’ve been dreaming about. Still negotiating that one with reality.
Or maybe it’s something quieter, less cinematic: Like saying "no" without apologising, or dancing in public (stone-cold sober). Like setting boundaries with your mother-in-law.
Or showing up at a party… and not hugging the wall.
Or hitting “send” on the email that’s been sitting in your drafts since dinosaurs roamed the earth.
Whatever it is, let’s get into the good stuff: What happens when we stop fear from running the show—and how we move from imagination to action, from hesitation to YES.
The Problem With Waiting
We love to say, “I’m just waiting for the right moment.”
Translation: I’m terrified and need 18 more signs from the universe and a handwritten note from Beyoncé.
Let’s be honest. Most of us are waiting for:
More clarity
More confidence
More money
More time
More abs
But the “right moment” is like that person who always says they’ll call and never does. It’s the no-show friend of life.
Here’s a crowd-favorite list of things people eternally postpone:
Having kids – “We’ll wait until we’re financially stable, emotionally evolved, and global warming is solved.” Sure. Good plan.
Starting a business – “I just need the perfect idea, more followers, and a foolproof economy.” Aka: when pigs fly.
Falling in love again – “After I’ve healed all my trauma, grown my hair out, and become someone who drinks green juice voluntarily.”
Taking a sabbatical – “Once the company won’t fall apart without me.” Guess what? They’ll survive. And Barbara from HR will secretly love running your department.
See the pattern?
We keep waiting to be fearless, but here's the twist: action doesn’t come after courage—it creates it.
The moment we think we need to feel ready, worthy, or perfect first... we stall.
Perfection is the master illusionist of fear—it keeps you watching the show instead of getting on stage.
Fear’s Sneaky Greatest Hits
Fear isn’t always a fire-breathing dragon. Sometimes it shows up in a pencil skirt with a clipboard and a soothing voice, whispering:
"Play it safe. You can always try later."
"Better the devil you know."
"Don’t rock the boat—you’ll drown."
"You can’t handle this."
It’s not just panic—it’s doubt dressed up as logic.
It convinces you to:
Research instead of start
Edit the post instead of publish
Support everyone else’s dreams and forget your own
And we convince ourselves that staying in our comfort zone is smart. But as someone once said: a comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing ever grows there. I have a very specific view on so-called comfort zones and wrote about this a while back - read it here:
COMFORT ZONES 🛌
To make one thing very clear, I do not like the expression “Comfort Zone” and I will tell you why and what I would rather name it.
The Courage Muscle
Courage isn’t something you’re born with like curly hair or lactose intolerance. It’s a muscle—and yes, the first few reps will suck.
Every time you do something a little scary, you get stronger. Not because the fear disappears, but because you stop letting it run your life.
Think of it like going to the gym. The first time you try a pull-up, you curse everyone in the room. But do it consistently, and suddenly your body—and your belief—start to shift.
It’s just like going to the gym:
Rep 1: Send the message.
Rep 2: Make the call.
Rep 3: Say “no” to something draining.
Rep 4: Say “yes” to something exciting.
Rep 5: Speak the truth.
Rep 6: Try it badly, but try
Courage is fear in motion. And just like a muscle, the more you use it, the more it shows up when you need it.
I remember the first time I spoke in front of a big crowd. I was so nervous I forgot to breathe. Literally. I got dizzy, my voice cracked, and I looked like I might pass out. I had to stop, do a breathing exercise—with the whole audience—and somehow they were with me. They didn’t boo. They smiled. Some even thanked me afterward for being real.
That’s courage (or possibly desperation) in action: fear, breathing heavily—or not at all—still moving forward.
What Fear Says vs. What Might Actually Happen
That voice in your head telling you not to do the thing? It’s not a prophet. It’s just a very loud memory bank full of past mistakes, childhood messages, and YouTube comments.
It’s also extremely biased.
Try this little thought experiment:
Write down the thing you’d do if you weren’t afraid.
Then write what fear says will happen.
Now write what might happen if you did it anyway. (This is often so much more inspiring.)
Example:
Fear says: “If I start that podcast, no one will listen, and I’ll sound stupid.”
Reality says: “You might find your voice. You might connect with someone who needed it. You might even get better with every episode.”
You don’t need to believe the brave version completely. You just need to let it exist in the room. That’s enough to tip the scales.
You have no idea how long I waited to write my newsletter. I was terrified and thought I was bound to fail. Eventually I did it anyway. Was it a huge success? No. But I still love writing, I appreciate each and every single subscriber and love the interaction with my readers.
That’s when I learned: Fear doesn’t go away. But it can get demoted.
Enneagram Wisdom: How Fear Tries to Outsmart You
Each Enneagram type has its signature fear-pattern:
Type 1: Afraid of being wrong. Holds back until everything’s perfect.
Type 2: Afraid of being unneeded. Overgives and forgets themselves.
Type 3: Afraid of failure. Only does what guarantees success.
Type 4: Afraid of being ordinary. Waits for a special moment.
Type 5: Afraid of being overwhelmed. Over-prepares, under-experiences.
Type 6: Afraid of danger. Doubts everything—even themselves.
Type 7: Afraid of pain. Escapes discomfort through distraction.
Type 8: Afraid of being controlled. Avoids vulnerability.
Type 9: Afraid of conflict. Avoids visibility or making waves.
Knowing your type can help you spot how fear is uniquely tricking you—and how to outsmart it.
What You’re Really Afraid Of (It’s Not What You Think)
Often, it’s not failure we fear—it’s what failure might mean about us.
“I’ll be embarrassed.” “I’ll be seen as incompetent.” “I’ll lose people’s respect.”
But what if the real win is showing up anyway?
What if people respect your effort more than your polish?
What if the mess is the magic?
Courage isn’t the absence of fear—it’s the audacity to act with it present.
One great example is when you go to a foreign country and don’t speak the language very well. We believe we need to be perfect to not be embarrassed or even humiliated. Do we laugh at people that come to our country and put in an effort to speak the language? In most cases probably not. On the contrary, we applaud them for trying, putting in the effort, even find it charming.
Funny (and True) Moments Where Fear Backfires
You’re afraid of messing up your speech. You practice for days. On stage, you forget your notes and wing it—audience goes wild.
You hesitate to flirt with someone. When you finally do, they laugh—because they were about to ask you out.
You don’t apply for the job because you feel you are underqualified. They end up hiring someone with less experience and more confidence.
Sometimes, fear is just plain wrong. Other times, it gives you the exact life you were trying to avoid.
The Real Risk Is Not Living
What if the real risk isn’t failing—but not even showing up for your own life?
What if the real tragedy isn’t rejection—but never letting people truly see you?
What if waiting for the “right moment” means you miss the only moment that was ever real: now?
You don’t need a dramatic overhaul. You don’t need to move to Bali and start a donkey sanctuary (though, let me know if you do). You just need to say yes to one thing your fear told you to avoid.
And then another. And another.
Before you know it, you’re not waiting for a perfect moment. You’re creating a bold, beautiful life—one imperfect, courageous, and possibly messy step at a time.
Often, we think fear is protecting us. Sometimes, it’s just robbing us blind.
Reflect and Act: Your Turn
What would I do if I wasn’t afraid?
What’s the smallest step I can take toward that today?
What lie has fear been telling me that I’m ready to outgrow?
Then—do the thing. Or plan the thing. Or text a friend to make you do the thing.
Courage is contagious. And action breeds more action.
Need a Co-Author for Your Braver Story?
Sometimes, fear gets really creative. It sounds like reason or even wisdom. It wears a grown-up face. It quotes articles and aunties and algorithms.
If that’s you—talk to someone. A friend, a coach, your journal, your dog. (Dogs are fantastic secret-keepers.)
You’re not broken. You’re just closer to brave than you think.
And the best part? You still hold the pen.
So, write something bold.
“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face.” — Eleanor Roosevelt
🎶My Song for you
Is a very mellow one - Enjoy The Ride by Joe Beard, Isaac Waddington and Mathilda Homer
For more good music, go to this Spotify playlist where you can find all the songs from the Change & Evolve Letters!
📚My Poem for you
Is by Philip Larkin (1922—1985)
Essential Beauty
In frames as large as rooms that face all ways And block the ends of streets with giant loaves, Screen graves with custard, cover slums with praise Of motor-oil and cuts of salmon, shine Perpetually these sharply-pictured groves Of how life should be. High above the gutter A silver knife sinks into golden butter, A glass of milk stands in a meadow, and Well-balanced families, in fine Midsummer weather, owe their smiles, their cars, Even their youth, to that small cube each hand Stretches towards. These, and the deep armchairs Aligned to cups at bedtime, radiant bars (Gas or electric), quarter-profile cats By slippers on warm mats, Reflect none of the rained-on streets and squares They dominate outdoors. Rather, they rise Serenely to proclaim pure crust, pure foam, Pure coldness to our live imperfect eyes That stare beyond this world, where nothing's made As new or washed quite clean, seeking the home All such inhabit. There, dark raftered pubs Are filled with white-clothed ones from tennis-clubs, And the boy puking his heart out in the Gents Just missed them, as the pensioner paid A halfpenny more for Granny Graveclothes' Tea To taste old age, and dying smokers sense Walking towards them through some dappled park As if on water that unfocused she No match lit up, nor drag ever brought near, Who now stands newly clear, Smiling, and recognising, and going dark.
👀Impression
No words needed!
What would you do differently in your life today if fear wasn’t an issue?
Let me know your thoughts in the comments, leave a ❤️ or send me a message. I always love hearing from you.
Wishing you a sunny weekend wherever you are.
Yours
Tanja 🤗
PS. You can now also find my podcast on Spotify
Change & Evolve and feel free to get in touch