What if I fail? might be the wrong question

A person jumping across a chasm.

Don't think. Don't think. Don't think.

When my daughter Samantha was about nine, I wanted to enroll her in swimming lessons.

She was having none of it.

Her reason was perfectly clear: she couldn't take swimming lessons because she didn't know how to swim.

I tried pointing out the obvious. That's why you take swimming lessons. You don't show up already knowing how to swim. That's literally what they're going to teach you.

This argument, despite being flawless as far as I was concerned, did not impress my nine-year-old.

Looking back, though, I think she understood something about fear of failure that adults aren't always very good at admitting. Sometimes we don't want to be seen doing something we aren't already good at.

We want to learn after we already know how. We want to apply once we're certain we're qualified. We want to start once we're reasonably sure we'll succeed.

And that's where fear of failure can quietly keep you stuck. Not because you're incapable of doing the thing, but because you're waiting to feel confident about something you haven't had the chance to learn yet.

If that's happening to you, telling yourself to “stop being afraid” probably isn't going to help much. My repeated explanations about the purpose of swimming lessons certainly didn't.

It might be more useful to figure out what you're actually afraid will happen if you try.

What does failure actually mean to you?

“I’m afraid I’ll fail” sounds like a complete explanation, but it usually isn't.

“I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.”
— Thomas Edison

Imagine you've been thinking about taking a course that could eventually lead to a career change. What would failing actually look like?

Maybe you're worried you won't understand the material. Maybe you'll discover you're not as interested in the subject as you thought. Maybe you're afraid you'll spend the money and quit halfway through. Or maybe the part that really bothers you is the thought of telling everyone about your exciting new plan and then having to tell them it didn't work out.

Those are very different fears.

The same thing happens when you're thinking about starting a business, applying for a different job, joining a club, trying a creative hobby or doing something you've never done before. “What if I fail?” can cover everything from losing thousands of dollars to feeling awkward in front of six strangers on a Tuesday night.

So before you decide the fear means you shouldn't do something, get more specific.

Finish the sentence: If I try this and it doesn't work, I'm afraid that...

Don't try to talk yourself out of the answer yet. Just find out what it is.

You may discover that the consequence you're imagining is something you can handle. You may also discover that there is a real risk you need to take seriously. Either answer is useful because now you have something concrete to make a decision about.

Decide what you're actually willing to risk

There's a version of advice about fear of failure that basically tells you to leap and trust yourself to figure it out on the way down.

Sometimes that's exciting. Sometimes it's a terrible financial plan.

You don't have to prove you're brave by taking the biggest possible risk.

If you're considering something new, think about what you're comfortable putting into it before you know whether it's going to work. That might include money, time, and energy, but there can be other things at stake too. You might be giving up some of your free time, asking your family to adjust, putting yourself in a situation where you're inexperienced, or risking disappointment if something you really want doesn't happen.

Then ask yourself whether you're willing to accept those possibilities for the chance to find out what happens.

For example, maybe you're interested in photography, and you've started wondering whether you could eventually make money from it. You could spend thousands on equipment, build a website, and declare yourself open for business.

Or you could decide you're willing to spend a few hundred dollars and a couple of weekends exploring photography more seriously first. Both involve risk. One simply gives you more room before you commit. Instead of asking yourself, “How do I make sure I don't fail?” try, “What am I comfortable risking to find out?”

You can make the first step smaller

This is where nine-year-old Sam's swimming lesson problem becomes particularly useful.

Sometimes we look at the thing we eventually want to be able to do and assume that has to be our first step.

For example:

  • You want a different career, so suddenly you're imagining quitting your job and going back to school.

  • You wonder whether you could sell something you make, so now you're picturing a full-fledged business.

  • You'd like to write, so somehow you've skipped directly to publishing a book.

No wonder you're nervous.

You don't have to make the biggest decision first. Take one evening course before committing to a program. Make three items before deciding whether you want to sell them. Join a beginner class. Volunteer somewhere that lets you experience a type of work you're curious about. Spend a month writing regularly before deciding what the writing needs to become.

A smaller first step lets you move forward without requiring you to make the whole decision at once.

You don't have to dive into the deep end. You just have to get into the pool.

Let trying answer questions that thinking can't

Fear of failure has a very convincing argument: if you think about something long enough, perhaps you'll eventually reach the point where you know exactly what to do.

Unfortunately, there are some things you can't know until you experience them.

You can research careers for months and still not know how you'll feel doing the work. You can watch pottery videos and have no idea whether you'll enjoy sitting at a wheel. You can plan a side business down to the last detail and discover that the part you expected to love bores you silly.

That doesn't mean the attempt failed. It means you know something now that you couldn't have known before.

Maybe you discover you enjoy it enough to continue. Maybe you're good at something you didn't expect. Maybe you find out what you need to learn next. Or maybe you realize the thing you've been thinking about for months isn't actually something you want.

This is one reason I don't think the goal should always be to “overcome” your fear of failure. You may still be nervous. You may still wonder whether you're making the right decision. You can be afraid and still decide that finding out matters more than knowing in advance.

Decide what would make trying worthwhile

Before you take that first step, it can help to decide what you want to get from the experience even if it doesn't turn out the way you hope.

Suppose you take that evening course and decide you don't want the career after all. Was the course a failure? Not necessarily. You may have just saved yourself from spending several years and considerably more money pursuing something that wasn't right for you.

Maybe you apply for a position and don't get it, but putting together the application makes you realize how much experience you've accumulated. Maybe you try selling your artwork and discover you love creating but hate taking commissions. Maybe you join the running club and discover that running is absolutely not your thing, but you enjoy being part of a group.

You don't need to pretend disappointment feels wonderful. If you wanted something and it didn't happen, you're allowed to be disappointed.

But the outcome doesn't have to be the only measure of whether trying was worthwhile. Sometimes success is getting the result you wanted, but it can also be finding out you want something different or finally answering the question you've been carrying around for two years.

You don't have to know how to swim before you take the lesson

Kids swimming in a pool.

They don’t look scared at all!

Eventually, there will be things you want that you don't yet know how to do.

You'll be inexperienced. You might be awkward. Other people might know more than you. You may try something and discover you're not very good at it yet.

You might even fail.

None of that automatically means you shouldn't start.

When fear shows up, don't waste all your energy trying to convince yourself that everything will work out perfectly. You don't know that. Neither does anyone else.

Instead, figure out what you're actually afraid of. Decide what you're willing to risk. Make the first step small enough that you can learn from it. Know what would make the experience worthwhile even if the outcome isn't what you hoped.

Then decide whether you still want to try.

You don't need to be certain you'll succeed before you get into the pool. After all, that's what the swimming lessons are for.

 
Michelle Arseneault

Michelle Arseneault is a certified life coach and instructional designer who loves helping women understand why life feels harder than it needs to, and what to do about it.

“I believe small, thoughtful changes usually have a bigger impact than dramatic overhauls. Around here, you'll usually find me exploring the psychology behind everyday life, creating practical tools, or asking questions that help you see things from a new angle.”

 

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