Fearlessness Is Back In Fashion

From harm avoidance to resilience acceptance.

Avoiding harm is not an option.

I spent most of my adolescence trying to avoid pain and crisis. I was not considered a daredevil child; that label went to my brother, for whom cliff-jumping and dirt-biking were tame activities. I was more inclined to keep the peace than disrupt it, and early on I became a little mediator: acting as a liaison between feuding friends and balancing dynamics wherever I went. Smoothing feathers and keeping them unruffled was of utmost importance, and I feared more than anything being the object of, or reason for, anyone else’s irritation. I wore the people-pleaser identity shell well.

Middle school, as many people know of me by now, coincided with the manifestation of anorexia: a disorder typically found in individuals who score high in harm avoidance, perfectionism, and neuroticism. During my early recovery, my therapist impressed upon me the lesson that no matter how hard I try, I cannot avoid harm. She taught me that sometimes, certain coping mechanisms and disorders can function as an escape route: they allow one to avoid dealing with or feeling something difficult. And so, I learned how to feel and deal with pain, and face rather than stave (or starve) off discomfort.

Can we bring fearlessness back into fashion?

Attempting to avoid harm is futile. Accepting this, along with the inevitability of experiencing pain, has made me more fearless—a word that, as far as common messages of bravery go, has been sort of lost. This disappearance surely has some reason, as ridding ourselves of fear is unrealistic: fear serves biological, social, and physiological purposes.

And yet, fearless still deserves to take up its fair share of space, for it is the underlying sentiment that matters: to be fearless is not to mean that we should strive to never experience the emotion of fear, but to not let incorrect or unreliable fear stop us from living. Fearlessness does not require imprudent beliefs of invincibility; rather, it entails connecting with our intuition and trusting our competence and resilience.

Upon entry to therapy world (or social media, for that matter) you will often hear phrases like, “It’s ok to feel afraid,” or, “Feel your feelings.” These messages can be meaningful, but are simplistic and not always useful. Yes, we should feel our feelings, but not all feelings should be listened to. It is fine to feel afraid if you do, but sometimes your fear needs to be dismissed rather than validated. Being emotionally healthy means neither repressing feelings nor overindulging in them. Thoughts and feelings can be “real, but not true” as psychologist Tara Brach teaches,¹ and this is especially relevant when talking about fear.

Messages of bravery and fearlessness are creeping back into the intellectual and social spaces I find myself occupying. One could argue that bravery has never gone out of style, but I do think most people would agree that in recent years (at least since I’ve been paying attention), general discourse has encouraged prioritizing security above uncertainty and comfort above potential discomfort. The emphasis, broadly speaking, has not been on being brave, but on making sure we are always safe.²

Have we become so comfort-focused that we’ve collectively forgotten our innate resilience? Did we bury our fearlessness in safe spaces, or cover it with elbow pads and helmets? Have we grown more interested in avoiding harm than the potential freedom and goodness that living bravely offers us? Can we remedy this by remembering that we are inherently capable?

Acceptance of pain and resilience, together.

Life is not trauma-sensitive, and we cannot avoid pain. If we can accept pain as a given, we can also accept our corresponding resilience as such.

Adopting the idea that you are competent and brave and can handle challenges makes you more trusting and confident; it makes life more fun. Believing that you’ll be ok supports you in taking risks that reward you grandly. Taking a chance on something that feels true—even if it is scary, and even if it is uncomfortable—is likely to be what makes life feel worthwhile. Even if you don’t get what you want, or if it turns out to be awkward or embarrassing or legitimately terrible—it’s probably fine, and you can handle it.

May we listen to our hearts and proceed bravely.

Maggie

1. Tara Brach is an excellent meditation teacher.

2. The irony is that we are always safe, when we are connected to our intuitions and the wisdom of our bodies. We are safest when we trust ourselves and the life that holds us: this is safety beyond a helmet.