I often say that to learn more, we should look not just to our elders but also to our youngsters. Children possess a wealth of wisdom in their unique approach to life, embracing everything it offers with open arms. While I could elaborate on the many lessons kids teach us, I want to focus on something that I believe profoundly impacts our lives: fear.
As children, we are fearless. We willingly embrace every opportunity life presents, acting without overthinking the consequences and adapting as we go. Nothing intimidates us. Yet, as we grow older and interact with more people, both in physical and digital spaces, we gradually begin to prioritize others' opinions over our own instincts. We start asking ourselves: “What would others think if I did this?” or “Look what happened to so-and-so; should I risk the same?” These questions cloud our judgment, leading us to focus more on others' experiences than our own. I say “judgment” because in these situations, instead of listening to our heart's true desires, we allow our minds—influenced by comparisons, past experiences, and external factors—to dominate our decisions. This mental clutter often prevents clear thinking. I've experienced this shift myself.
As a child, I feared nothing, embracing everything life offered. This fearlessness, driven by an innate curiosity, still guides me towards new experiences today. However, when I was 15 and embarked on my first solo creative journey, I was suddenly consumed by a fear of failure. It felt strange and unnatural, contradicting my belief that life unfolds as it should. The fear grew so intense that I had to pause and ask myself: “Why am I so afraid of failing? This isn't like me.”
What I realized was profound: I didn't fear failure itself, but the prospect of failing in front of others. I was transitioning from an “innocent” child to a more “thoughtful” adolescent, and this newfound awareness made me overly dependent on external validation. I cared more about others' opinions of my actions than the actions themselves. It felt as if I was living for an audience, not for myself. But this realization was transformative. I learned to detach from the need for external validation – not just regarding failure, but in all aspects of life.
My curiosity about human nature led me to reflect further on this “fear of failure”. I wondered: Could it extend beyond our ambitions and into other areas of life? I soon realized its pervasiveness was far greater than I'd imagined. This fear isn't confined to professional pursuits or societal definitions of success. It can – and for many, do – deeply infiltrate our personal lives, relationships, and sense of self-worth. We're conditioned to associate failure with public shame, career setbacks, or unmet goals. However, I believe that failure in more intimate realms – love, friendship, or even our relationship with ourselves – can be even more daunting and impactful.
Let's consider the fear of failure in relationships. How often do we look at it from this perspective? I'm certain each of us has confronted this fear at least once in our lives (if not, I genuinely admire and respect you). While it may manifest differently than the fear of public or professional failure, its consequences can be equally, if not more, profound. Relationships—whether romantic, familial, or platonic—are spaces where vulnerability is essential. Yet, many of us allow fears of rejection, misunderstanding, or inadequacy to stifle our most meaningful connections. This fear doesn't always present itself overtly. Sometimes, it's as subtle as withholding a part of yourself, not fully expressing your feelings, or avoiding the risks that come with deep emotional intimacy. In protecting ourselves from the perceived failure of being hurt, we inadvertently distance ourselves from the profound joy that genuine connection can bring.
The realization that fear of failure extends into relationships—a core aspect of our existence, without which we can neither survive nor thrive—led me to contemplate further how fear controls our lives. I came to understand that our deepest fear isn't failing in front of an audience, but failing those we care about, and most tragically, failing ourselves. The quiet, persistent voice within us constantly questions: “What if I'm not enough?” “What if I can't do this?” “What if...?” These doubts can paralyze us, preventing us from fully engaging with life and relationships.
Despite being aware of this dynamic, my reflections deepened my understanding of how this fear, whether conscious or not, distances us from potentially transformative experiences. We often avoid pursuits that frighten us due to the possibility of failure, forgetting that it's precisely in these moments of risk that we grow the most. Whether it's applying for a seemingly out-of-reach job, expressing love without certainty of reciprocation, or simply choosing authenticity in a world that often rewards conformity—fear lurks in the background, whispering that it's safer to hold back. But in heeding this whisper, we may be depriving ourselves of our most profound growth opportunities and life's richest experiences.
What I've learned from my experiences, and what I’ve come to believe more deeply over time, is that safety and growth rarely coexist. The illusion of safety—avoiding risks, staying within the confines of comfort—comes at a great cost. When we let fear or the desire for “safety”, dictate our choices, we’re not just avoiding failure; we’re avoiding life. In trying to protect ourselves from pain, we unintentionally shield ourselves from joy as well. Some of the most beautiful moments in life arise from leaping into the unknown, choosing vulnerability even when it terrifies us, and embracing the possibility of failure. Without the risk of failure, success (in whatever form that takes for you) simply cannot exist.
Many people, myself included, once believed that avoiding failure meant doing well. But is it really? How often have we congratulated ourselves for sidestepping situations that might go wrong? And how does that feel over time? For me, the emptiness of that path became hard to ignore. I saw how my life began to feel smaller, more constrained, and while I wasn’t exactly unhappy, I wasn’t truly living either. I’ve come to realize that it’s easy to confuse the absence of pain with happiness, but real fulfillment requires stepping into discomfort. Fear promises protection, but instead, it often imprisons us. And we’re the ones who build the bars of that prison.
As I write these words, I reflect more deeply on the fear of failure and realize it often stems from a much deeper place. We tie our worth to our outcomes, believing that success validates us and failure diminishes us. But does it? I’ve come to believe that we are not the sum of our successes or failures. We are not defined by the moments when everything falls apart or when things come together perfectly. In fact, the most valuable lessons often come when we stumble—when things don’t go as planned. It is in these moments, far more than in easy victories, that we are truly shaped.
Embracing failure is not easy, especially when it feels like it exposes all our insecurities. I still have moments of hesitation when fear takes hold of me, but I’ve learned to recognize that this fear of failure shouldn’t be something to dread—it’s something to welcome. It’s through failure that I discover my resilience, my ability to adapt, and my capacity to keep moving forward, even when things don’t go my way. Failure has taught me to let go of the need for perfection and embrace the beautiful messiness of life.
How many of you enjoy being controlled? How many are comfortable with someone—or something—dictating your every move?
The truth is, there is something controlling us far more than we often realize: fear. Fear controls our desire to manage outcomes, to shape how others perceive us, and ultimately, to control the entire narrative of our lives. But life, by its nature, is unpredictable, and no amount of control will ever shield us from its uncertainties. Facing the things we fear is inevitable. Knowing this, we have a choice—to shift our relationship with fear. Instead of seeing it as an enemy to defeat, we can treat it as a guide. Fear often points us toward the places where we need to grow, the risks we need to take, and the areas of our lives that are asking for our attention.
What I’ve learned on my journey, and how I want to write the next chapters of my life, is that fear isn’t something to be eliminated. It’s a part of me, a part of being human. I’ve learned, and am still learning, to live alongside it—to make peace with its presence and let it push me forward rather than hold me back. My experiences have shown me that every time I choose courage over comfort, I expand my world just a little more. I opened myself to possibilities I could never have imagined had I stayed in the safety of the familiar. In these moments of bravery, in these small acts of defiance against fear, I feel truly alive.
At the end of the day, I believe the greatest failure isn’t in trying and falling short. The greatest failure, as many have said before, is in never trying at all—in letting fear dictate the course of our lives and allowing the possibility of failure to rob us of the chance for something beautiful. Life is too short and too precious to live in the shadow of what might go wrong. Instead, we should embrace the possibility of what could go right, knowing that even if we stumble along the way, it’s the journey itself that makes it all worthwhile.
What would your life look like if fear wasn’t standing in the way? What could you accomplish, experience, or become if you chose courage over comfort?
Thank you for reading!
Have a blessed day!🌹
Eduard🌹
