Most of Anxiety is the Avoidance of Something.

At the beginning of this year, I was told I would be backfilling a position for someone retiring at the end of the year. I was reluctant. The position is essentially a one-person shop with far more responsibility than my current role. As the months passed, I noticed myself coming into work feeling anxious.

That anxiety forced me to stop and look inward, because I couldn’t keep functioning like that.

I asked myself a simple question: Why do I feel anxious about this position?

Because I don’t believe I’m capable of doing the job.

Why don’t I feel capable?

Because it’s a lot of responsibility, and I don’t have the knowledge yet.

Why don’t I have the knowledge?

Because I haven’t learned it.

Why haven’t I learned it?

Because I’m avoiding it.

What I finally realized is that I wasn’t anxious because I was incapable. I was anxious because I was avoiding accepting the reality that I’m moving into a role with more responsibility. That avoidance trained my mind to rationalize the avoidance. I should avoid this because I’m incompetent to do the work. I should avoid this because it is too difficult. 

This doesn’t necessarily determine that you are a lazy person. It is in our DNA for our brains to resist challenges that are not essential to the survival of ourselves and the human race.

Isn’t it funny how we can avoid situations that are challenging yet find ourselves following through with stupid decisions? Like someone can feel anxious about a job and never apply for it. While someone can feel anxious about having an affair yet go through with it. 

That’s because our motivating factor (dopamine) is not about the act itself but about the anticipation of the act. People resist moving into a position with more responsibility because they anticipate feeling more stressed and less knowledgeable. While people can engage in an affair despite their anxiety of the consequences because they anticipate the pleasure of feeling in love and having sex with someone new.

When I look back on my life, most of my anxious moments share the same root: avoidance.

When I joined the Army, I came in as a Specialist because I had a college degree. I watched Soldiers who joined as Privates make Sergeant before me. Not because they were more capable, but because they went to the Promotion Board and I didn’t.

Why didn’t I go?

Because I avoided studying.

Why did I avoid studying?

Because I believed studying meant hours every day. I didn’t know how to study. I thought I had to print out regulations and waste time memorizing things that might not even be covered.

Later, I found out there were Soldiers who studied for just 30 minutes a day using a promotion board booklet that covered most of the actual questions. I got the booklet, studied 30 minutes a day, and passed the promotion board.

It took me three years as a Specialist to do something that could have taken months, all because I mistook inexperience for unreadiness and avoidance for self-preservation. I told myself leadership wasn’t worth it because I planned to get out anyway. But all of my excuses were to rationalize my avoidance. 

Most worthwhile choices in life come with expectations we don’t enjoy but must still engage with. People think fiction writers never feel like they’re working. That’s not true. Writers love new ideas, emotionally charged scenes, and finishing a manuscript. What they don’t love are revisions, rereading their own work, fixing grammar, and tightening sentences. Avoiding those parts doesn’t mean someone isn’t a real writer. It just means they’re avoiding the work that leads to growth.

Now, when I feel anxious, I ask myself a different question: What am I avoiding?

That doesn’t mean avoidance is always wrong. Sometimes it’s rational. If I feel anxious about walking down a dark alley known for assaults, I’ll take another route. That’s self-preservation.

But if I feel anxious about driving across a bridge and realize what I’m avoiding is the fear of it collapsing, I can acknowledge that the probability is extremely low and move forward anyway. Not all fear deserves obedience.

The person I’m replacing was also voluntold into the position. He struggled at first. He was anxious. But he didn’t avoid it. He could have quit and found something easier. Instead, he stayed, learned, and eventually the job became routine.

I recently listened to The Let Them Theory by Mel Robbins. She talks about how her daughter had anxiety about sleeping alone, so she let her sleep in her parents’ room. Robbins believed the support would help her daughter overcome the fear. Instead, it reinforced it. The avoidance didn’t ease the anxiety. It taught it to grow.

Avoidance feels like relief, but it often trains anxiety to stick around longer.

I’ve come to believe that many of the things we’re most anxious about aren’t signals of incapability. They’re signals of avoidance. What you’re avoiding doesn’t need to be fixed overnight. What matters is recognizing it and understanding that anxiety is often your responsibility to examine, not a verdict on your ability.

The mistake we make is labeling unfamiliarity as incompetence. Growth doesn’t require confidence first. It requires engagement. Confidence usually shows up later, once the work is already underway.