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What I Wish I’d Known About Fear When I Was 15

  • The Purposeful Project
  • Jul 27
  • 3 min read
Fear doesn’t have to be your enemy—it can be your greatest teacher.

Key Takeaways

➡️ Fear isn’t a flaw: It’s a natural part of being human, and learning to live with it can make you stronger.

➡️ Courage is built in small steps: Facing discomfort—whether raising your hand in class or speaking up for yourself—is how resilience grows.

➡️ You are not alone: Everyone, no matter how confident they look, wrestles with fear. Naming it takes away its power.


When I was 15, fear felt like my shadow. It showed up in the classroom when my teacher asked a question. It sat next to me at lunch when I worried about whether I was wearing the “right” thing. It lingered in my chest every time I thought about the future: college, relationships, who I’d become.


I thought fear meant something was wrong with me—that I wasn’t brave enough, smart enough, or cool enough. Nobody told me fear was just part of being alive, not a personal failure.


If I could go back and sit with my teenage self, I’d share what I’ve since learned from Buddhist teacher Pema Chödrön, whose books When Things Fall Apart and The Places That Scare You offer wisdom for exactly these moments. Fear isn’t something to conquer or banish. It’s something to befriend. And that shift changes everything.



1. Fear Isn’t an Enemy—It’s a Messenger

At 15, I thought the goal was to be fearless, like the people I saw in movies or on social media. But here’s the truth: no one is fearless. Even the most confident-looking person carries fear inside them. The difference is in how they respond.


Chödrön writes that fear is a sign we’re at the edge of growth. It’s not proof we’re weak, but that we’re alive and paying attention. Imagine if instead of thinking, I’m broken because I’m scared, you thought, This fear means something important is happening.


Example: Speaking up in class used to terrify me. I’d feel my face burn, my heart race, my throat tighten. I thought it meant I wasn’t meant to lead. But now I know—that fear was my body’s way of telling me this mattered. Speaking up was a step into growth.


Try This: The next time you’re afraid, pause. Name it out loud: This is fear. Notice how your body feels. Instead of pushing it away, get curious: What is this fear pointing me toward?



2. Courage Is Built in Tiny, Imperfect Steps

Here’s something I wish I’d understood earlier: courage isn’t about grand gestures. It’s about small, daily acts of leaning into discomfort.


Chödrön teaches that the only way to soften fear is to move toward it—not away. And you don’t have to do it all at once.


Example: If posting a TikTok or auditioning for the school play feels impossible, start smaller. Share an idea with a close friend. Sing in front of your mirror. Each small risk teaches your nervous system that fear isn’t fatal.

Think of courage like lifting weights. You don’t start by benching 200 pounds. You start small, build strength, and keep practicing.


Try This: Pick one fear you want to face this week. Break it down into the smallest step possible. Then celebrate yourself—not for “overcoming” it, but for showing up.



3. You Are Not Alone in This

One of the hardest parts of fear at 15 is the loneliness. You scroll through Instagram and it looks like everyone else is confident, carefree, thriving. But appearances aren’t the whole story.


Chödrön reminds us that fear is universal. Every single person—your crush, your teacher, the most popular kid at school—wakes up with fear in some form. When you realize this, fear feels less like a secret shame and more like a thread connecting us all.


Example: Once, during a group project, a classmate admitted she was terrified of presenting. I was shocked—she always seemed so outgoing. But her honesty cracked something open. I realized I wasn’t the only one rehearsing what to say in my head, or sweating through my shirt before speaking.


Try This: The next time you feel fear, consider sharing it with someone you trust. You might be surprised how quickly they say, me too. That connection makes the fear lighter.


If I could hand my 15-year-old self a note, it would say: Fear doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’re alive.

Fear won’t disappear as you grow older—you’ll still feel it before job interviews, big moves, or telling someone you love how you feel. But instead of seeing fear as an obstacle, you can learn to see it as a guide.


The real power isn’t in getting rid of fear. It’s in learning to walk with it, gently, bravely, step by step.


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