Why We Fear Ourselves More Than the World Around Us

A client recently said to me, “If I let myself feel this sadness, I’m afraid I’ll never stop crying.” Another described his anger as a monster locked inside him, one he was terrified might destroy everything if he let it out. Again and again, I hear the same quiet confession in different words: I’m afraid of myself.

It isn’t just the fear of what life might throw at us. Often the greater fear is what lies within us – the emotions we’re trying to keep a lid on, the parts of ourselves we’ve judged, the power we’ve learned to mistrust. We keep these parts hidden, not only from the world but from ourselves, because to let them out feels dangerous. What if sadness drowns me? What if anger ruins me? What if stepping fully into who I am changes me into someone I don’t want to be?

This is what I call the fear of yourself.

It shows up in many guises. Sometimes it’s the person who swallows their words in meetings because they’ll say the ‘wrong’ thing or that their passion might come across as aggression. Sometimes it’s the parent who never allows themselves to admit having emotions to their children, thinking it will make them appear weak. Sometimes it’s the professional who holds back from a bigger role, not because they lack the skill, but because stepping into it would mean showing more of themselves than feels safe.

At the heart of it is the same struggle: we learn to treat parts of ourselves as if they are enemies that need to be contained or ignored, hoping they’ll go away. Anger, grief, power, vulnerability – all become suspect. We fear that if we let them out, we’ll be consumed, exposed, or judged. So, we keep ourselves in check. We create a version of ourselves we think we can control, a version that we believe is more palatable to those around us, while the rest stays locked away.

But the energy it takes to keep these parts hidden is immense. It’s like trying to hold a beach ball under water – you can do it for a while, but it takes constant effort, and sooner or later it pops back up. People tell me they’re exhausted, burnt out, running on empty. Often what’s draining them isn’t life itself but the ongoing effort of self-containment.

And here’s the paradox: the very things we fear are often the things we most need. Anger, when acknowledged, becomes a boundary that protects rather than destroys. Sadness, when felt, can soften us and connect us more deeply with ourselves and others. Power, when trusted, allows us to contribute with strength and creativity. Vulnerability, when expressed, is what makes intimacy possible.

When we reject these parts, we not only limit ourselves, we cut off vital sources of energy and wisdom. We remain partially alive, performing an edited version of ourselves that looks acceptable but feels hollow.

So what do we do with the fear of ourselves?

The answer isn’t to force anything out into the open, nor to fight with it. The work begins with curiosity. To ask: What is it I’m so afraid will happen if I feel this? What story am I telling myself about what this emotion means about me?

Sadness doesn’t mean you are broken. Anger doesn’t mean you are dangerous. Power doesn’t mean you are arrogant. Vulnerability doesn’t mean you are weak. These are human experiences – signs and signals, energies, aspects of self that become distorted only when suppressed or denied.

It takes courage to meet yourself honestly. Sometimes that means allowing yourself to cry, and discovering that you do stop when it’s allowed to flow. Sometimes it means giving anger a voice in a safe and constructive way and realising it doesn’t destroy you. Sometimes it means stepping into a role at work, and learning that your power doesn’t corrupt you but allows you to lead more authentically.

When we begin to turn toward the parts we fear, they lose their power to terrify us. Like the Wizard of Oz, when we look behind the curtain we create an opportunity to learn and understand. We can look a little deeper, grow, and evolve.

And the deeper truth is this: the self you fear is also the self that longs to be free. It is the part of you that wants to live without masks, to bring your whole self into your relationships, your work, your life. It is the part that carries your creativity, your joy, and your capacity to love.

Perhaps the real danger isn’t that your emotions or your power will consume you. The real danger is what happens if you keep them locked away – if you spend a lifetime afraid of yourself, never discovering who you truly are.

So maybe the question is not, What if I let it out? but What might become possible if I do?

Curious what might change if you stopped fearing parts of yourself and started embracing them? Click here to arrange a time to chat, and let’s explore how you can step into a more genuine, confident way of being.