Fear of Failure: What It Actually Looks Like
Fear of failure is rarely stupid enough to introduce herself honestly.
She doesn’t usually arrive declaring, ‘I’m terrified I’ll fail!’
That would be far too bloody convenient.
Usually, fear of failure looks sensible.
It looks like researching properly. Waiting for the right time. Making a better plan. Tweaking the thing nobody has seen yet for the seventeenth time.
It might even look like being extremely productive…
Just mysteriously never on the thing you actually want to do.
Or, on the other hand, it might look like trying to finish Netflix and disappearing into a family-sized bucket of beige snacks.
Welcome to Inner Bitchipedia, where we identify the sneaky thought patterns making your life harder, give them a ridiculous name and oik them out of the director’s chair.
Today’s culprit: Fear of Failure.
Fear of Failure: The Unofficial Definition
Fear of failure is the worry that getting something wrong, falling short or disappointing somebody will have painful consequences.
Not merely:
‘Aww, man, that didn’t go as planned.’
But:
‘Aww, man, that didn’t go as planned… therefore, I am an embarrassingly epic failure who must now leave society and live under a rock.’
Fear has range.
Depth.
Cunning.
An intense and persistent fear of failure is sometimes described as atychiphobia.
But fear of failure can quietly influence your choices without causing panic attacks or becoming a phobia.
Sometimes it simply makes avoiding the risk feel more appealing than achieving the thing.
Thanks, brain.
Common Signs of Fear Of Failure
Fear of failure can look like:
- Saying, ‘I just need to research it properly first.’
- Making a beautiful new plan instead of following the existing one.
- Waiting until Monday, next month or your ‘best self’ magically wakes up one morning.
- Turning one small task into an enormous, complex project.
- Abandoning something at 80% because finishing means people can judge it.
- Constantly changing your idea so no version ever gets tested.
- Deciding you never really wanted it anyway.
- Reorganising the kitchen cupboards during your allotted ‘doing the thing’ time.
You might call it laziness, inconsistency or procrastination.
But often, you’re not avoiding the thing itself.
You’re avoiding what it might feel like if the thing doesn’t go perfectly.
Known Aliases And Disguises of Fear of Failure
Fear of failure is rarely stupid enough to introduce herself honestly.
Instead, she arrives wearing one of her sensible little disguises:
- ‘I’m being realistic.’
- ‘I have high standards.’
- ‘I need more clarity.’
- ‘I’m waiting for motivation.’
- ‘It’s just not the right time.’
- ‘I should learn a bit more first.’
- ‘I need to be completely sure.’
Any of those statements might be true.
But if you’ve been saying the same thing for six months while quietly berating yourself for being no further forward, fear may have stormed the stage.
Meet the Inner Bitches Behind Fear of Failure (yes, sadly there’s more than one)
Scary Mary
The puppet master behind fear of failure. Her job is to predict danger. Unfortunately, she defines danger rather broadly.
Launching something that nobody buys? Danger.
Applying for something and hearing ‘no’? Danger.
Trying pottery and producing a wonky bowl? Apparently also danger.
And because Scary Mary loves a committee, she usually brings accomplices.
Perfectionist Petra
Makes the first attempt feel like a final exam.
Shamey Lainey
Reminds you of every embarrassing thing you’ve done since 1994 and predicts another public humiliation.
Imposter Iris
Insists that finishing the work will expose the shocking truth that you don’t know everything.
Sabotage Sally
Gently suggests starting an exciting, completely unrelated project instead. Or gets you invested in a ‘just-one-more-episode’ boxset addiction.
Together, they can make avoidance feel remarkably sensible and accomplished.
Or make you ‘accidentally’ fall down the TikTok tunnel for four hours.
How Your Brain Thinks Fear Of Failure Helps You
Your brain is trying to protect you.
It remembers disappointment, criticism, embarrassment, and all the times hope felt expensive. Or painful. Even, dare I say, humiliating.
So when something matters, it attempts to keep you safe from those feelings.
Not trying means you can’t visibly fail.
Not finishing means nobody can judge the finished result.
Changing the goal means the old goal never officially beat you.
The problem is that protection has a price.
Every avoided attempt quietly reinforces the belief that you couldn’t have handled it.
And every unfinished thing becomes more evidence for the completely unfair story that you ‘never stick to anything’.
So congratulations to the theatrically efficient internal safety department that is your brain.
Where Fear Of Failure Comes From
Sometimes fear of failure grows after one big, painful experience.
More often, it’s learned through repetition.
Being criticised whenever you get something wrong. Being praised mainly when you achieve. Watching mistakes become family dramas. Feeling embarrassed at school. Working somewhere that punished imperfect attempts. Being judged for trying and failing. Or even seeing others go through all that.
Trauma can make mistakes and uncertainty feel especially dangerous. But you don’t need one enormous, dramatic event to develop a fear of failure.
Sometimes your brain simply collects enough small moments to conclude:
Trying is risky. Getting it wrong is going to feel like being chased by a sabre-tooth tiger. So your Inner Bitch goes ‘fuck that, thanks very much’.
We have our cave-dwelling ancestors to thank for that. Our brains became extremely good at noticing potential danger because, for our ancestors, overlooking a threat could have serious consequences. Unfortunately, the same threat-detection system – of which the amygdala[^1] is part – can also react to modern social dangers such as judgement, rejection and public embarrassment.
So that ‘trying is risky’ conclusion may once have helped you avoid something painful.
It just doesn’t deserve to control every decision you make now.
The Fear of Failure Survival Guide
First, stop trying to prepare and plan so that failure definitely won’t happen.
You can’t.
Sometimes things don’t work. Sometimes people say no. Sometimes your first attempt resembles something a three-year-old brought home from kindergarten.
The useful question isn’t:
‘How can I guarantee success?’
It’s:
‘How can I make trying feel safe enough?’
That might mean making the first attempt smaller, private, reversible or brief.
It might mean deciding on your Plan B before you begin.
Or it might simply mean noticing, ‘Ah. Scary Mary’s running a disaster-planning masterclass again.’
Naming the pattern gives you enough distance to choose to go for your first attempt anyway.
Because fear can attend the meeting.
It just doesn’t get the deciding vote.
It’s worth mentioning that if fear of failure regularly causes panic, intense distress or stops you from functioning in everyday life, you deserve more support than a light-hearted blog post and an Easy Plan B. A qualified mental-health professional can help you work through it safely.
Your Next Easy Steps Away From Fear of Failure
If you’ve recognised yourself three, four, or seventeen times while reading this article, don’t despair.
You’re not lazy and you definitely don’t need a personality transplant.
Although Scary Mary and her chums would very much like you to stop reading now.
If fear has turned your first attempt into a final exam, start with an Easy Plan B.
And if you’re ready for an easy-to-follow, step-by-step, can’t-possibly-get-it-wrong route to expose the exact fear, de-dramatise the worst-case scenario and take messy action anyway, check out Fight Your Fear of Failure: The Workbook.
You don’t need to become fearless.
You just need to stop letting fear dress up as good advice. Or hide inside your smartphone.
*‘‘Amygdala’ is yet another one of those things I always had a vague understanding of, but wasn’t a hundred percent sure I knew what it was. I was today years old when I found out there’s two of ’em. The amygdalas are two small, almond-shaped parts of the brain involved in processing emotions, memories and potential threats. They’re useful little blighters that help us notice danger… except when they treat publishing a blog post like an approaching sabre-toothed tiger. Read Cleveland Clinic’s explanation of the amygdala.