» Face Up to Your Worst Fears

Face your fears by imagining the very worst

A few days ago I got an email I’d been waiting for but I waited a further day before reading it. Why? Because I was worried about what it might say.

The email was from a friend and ex-work colleague who I was keen to keep in touch with when I left the UK, but our communications have been sporadic at best in the last 18 months. Every so often I sent chatty emails to which I rarely received a reply. And when I did get a mail it was often a non-event: an apology for not writing and a promise to write soon, which wasn’t followed up unless it was with a further apology. If he’d stopped apologizing and used the time to write a few lines of news I would have been happy.

In the end I sent him a sort of ultimatum, in as friendly a way as possible. I told him I didn’t want to lose touch, and suggested how we could stay in communication without it being onerous. I also acknowledged that he may not want to continue the contact, so gave him a ‘get out’ option. I hit ‘send’ and waited with trepidation.

It was a couple of weeks before I received a reply and, as I said earlier, I didn’t immediately look at it.

You’d have thought I was eager to hear from him – which I was – but I was worried that he might have accepted my ‘get out’ and that his email might just say ‘It’s been nice knowing you, have a good life, goodbye’. Although I’d offered this outcome I really didn’t want it to happen. And for a while I was afraid that, just by opening the email, that’s what I would find.

For me this would be very disappointing: the end to a 19 year friendship which I’d really valued. This was the person who first interviewed me for the company, the one who helped me work through my early doubts, the one who I kept returning to work with – and for – and who always made me smile just to see him. We’d been a strong partnership, working well together, almost instinctively at times, and achieved some notable successes.

We’d spent many hours putting the world – or at least our little bit of it – to rights over a couple of drinks. We’d had our disagreements and many long, drawn out discussions, but always remained friends. It was sad to think we might not ‘talk’ to one another again. I wondered what would happen if I met him on a visit back to England, how awkward it might be if we met somewhere, by accident or design.

I wondered if I had been right to send my email. We could have carried on as we were: granted I wouldn’t be getting any replies but by continuing to write I could make myself believe we were still in contact. But if we did end the contact I would have been the instigator.

It was done now. I couldn’t retract my action and his reply was waiting. If he told me he didn’t want to stay in touch I felt he would be rejecting me and there would be nothing I could do about it. Even if he offered understandable reasons for his decision I told myself it would really be because I wasn’t as important in his life as he was in mine; I wasn’t worth the 10 minutes it would take every few weeks to write me a few lines and hit ‘send’.

I put my imagination in top gear and really worked at it: building up all the negatives that I was sure would flow from his decision – which I felt sure would be negative as well.

But I couldn’t put it off forever, so I considered the worst outcome I might get. The worst that could happen is that he wanted nothing more to do with me and was telling me so. In fact the worst that could happen was a formalization of the present in that I wouldn’t hear from him, but with the addition that he didn’t want me to write to him either. The worst that could happen was to know…

His reply wasn’t long but it was friendly and chatty. A brief acknowledgement of his tardy communication habits was followed by a short update on what was happening in his life. My worst fears weren’t realized: He, too, wants to keep in touch. I know he won’t ever be a regular, lengthy writer, and I hope he knows I will look forward to his communications without being disappointed at the long intervals between them.

People are really good at visualizing bad things. Usually we’re better at the bad things than at imagining that good things might happen to us, and this can make us fearful of taking the action we need to take. Our internal dialog is more likely to rehearse a negative experience than a positive one:

If we want to ask the boss for a raise or for permission to do something we don’t normally do (he might refuse)

When we want to discuss something important with a loved one (she might want to leave me)

If we want to find out what’s troubling our children (she might be gay)

When we need to speak to a colleague about an aspect of work that isn’t going to plan (he might blame me for the problems)

If we want to complain about poor service (they might be uncooperative)

Face the fear by asking yourself the question:

What is the worst that could happen in this situation?

Make a picture of it in your mind. Play it through with pictures, sounds, feelings. Live through it in your imagination.

Then ask:

If this does happen, what will I do about it?

Think through different ways that you could move forward. If your daughter is gay will you reject her or seek to understand her choices? If your boss says ‘No’ you’ve still got a job, and you have the opportunity to ask when your salary is likely to be reviewed, or how you can get to work on new projects.

If my friend had called an end to future contact I would have put him on my Christmas letter list (his choice whether to read or reciprocate of course) and accepted that I’d still had the experience of a good relationship, and good memories to look back on.

Once you’ve identified positive ways that you can deal with the very worst you can imagine it puts you back in control. You know you can get through the worst, and so you will. You’ve faced up to your fear mentally and come out smiling.

Then go off and do it for real!

And always remember you’ve only considered one possibility – the worst you can imagine – but there could be many other outcomes, all of which must be better than the worst. Chances are it will be one of these in reality, as the worst thing we can imagine rarely happens to us.