Overcoming Fear (In Both Life and Climbing)

When I first started climbing in 2019, I was hooked, and never really found myself scared to be so high up on a mountain. But just a few months in, I took a fall that changed everything—I broke my foot and shattered my heel. It was a long recovery, and the physical pain was just the beginning. Getting back on the wall after that accident was terrifying.

The fear wasn’t just about the fall itself. I didn’t mind the sensation of falling, but the unknowns haunted me. Would the rope hold? What if I fell again? What if I got hurt worse this time? Climbing brought me face-to-face with these questions, and at times, they were paralyzing. There were moments when I panicked mid-climb and came off the wall, even though I knew I could have finished it. My nervous system would get so overwhelmed that I’d end up in tears, shaking and upset, not because I wasn’t capable, but because fear had taken over. For many of us who climb, it’s not the fall that’s scary—it’s the uncertainty of what might happen. You might be okay with the sensation of falling, but when faced with an unfamiliar route or unsure of how far you’ll drop, anxiety creeps in. The unknowns—like whether the rope will hold, how hard the impact might be, or what obstacles could be in the way—can be more daunting than the fall itself.

Climbing, for me, became less about conquering routes and more about learning to navigate the unknown. I had to rebuild trust in myself, my body, and the equipment. It wasn’t just something I could think my way out of—I had to feel it. The more I climbed, the more I realized that overcoming fear takes practice. It’s about slowly converting those scary unknowns into something familiar. Each time I trusted the rope and took a fall, I chipped away at the fear. But it wasn’t easy. It still isn’t. I have to continually reprogram my brain and my nervous system through experience, not just logic.

The same principle applies to other aspects of life. Unknowns can be intimidating because our minds, wired with a negativity bias, often leap to worst-case scenarios. If we’re unsure about the outcome, it’s natural for our brains to fill in the gaps with fear and doubt. This is especially true if you’ve had past experiences that didn’t turn out well.

This journey has taught me that fear of the unknown is something we all face, not just in climbing, but in life. Our brains naturally jump to worst-case scenarios when we don’t know what will happen. It’s how we’re wired. But the more we face those fears, the more we can transform the unknown into something less threatening. Whether it’s trusting the rope or navigating life’s uncertainties, it’s the experience that matters.

I’m still working on it. I still get scared, and there are days when the fear feels bigger than me. But with each climb, I’m learning to trust myself a little more—and to trust that the unknown doesn’t have to be terrifying. We can face it, and even if we fall, we’ll be okay.

So, how do we get past it?
The key lies in turning unknowns into knowns. When we know what to expect, our fears diminish. In climbing, through practice and experience, we learn to trust our gear, our climbing partners, and ourselves. This isn’t just something we understand in our heads — we need to feel it in our bones by taking those falls and realizing we’re okay.

When I get scared, whether on a mountain face or when navigating a challenging life moment, I try to ask myself:
What is the fear really about?
Is it the fall or is it the fear of potential injury?
Is it the hard conversation, or is it the fear of perceived abandonment or rejection?
Is it the new thing, or the fear that I will fail?
Once I know the fear, I can turn those unknowns into knowns.

Consider asking:
Have I been here before and how did I make it through?
Can I trust that I will be okay, even if the scary thing happens?
What is within my control?

Sometimes the risk is too big. In those moments, I remind myself that it is okay to be afraid - that my fear is valid - and I can trust myself to be compassionate when my body feels unsafe.

What do you think? 💭