Therapy, Uncategorized

Fear-Based Avoidance

Fear-Based AvoidanceWhen Protection Turns Into a Prison

Fear gets a bad rap, but it didn’t evolve to ruin your life. Fear exists because bodies are ancient survival machines. Long before there were performance reviews, family group chats, or dating apps, fear kept our ancestors from walking off cliffs or petting animals with too many teeth. At its core, fear is a protective biological process: your nervous system scanning for danger and mobilizing you to survive it.

The problem isn’t fear itself. The problem is when the fear dial gets turned way too high.

Modern fear is often wildly mismatched to modern threats. Our bodies respond to social rejection, uncertainty, and emotional discomfort as if they were physical dangers. The same system that once helped us escape predators now floods us with adrenaline because we might say the wrong thing, feel embarrassed, disappoint someone, or fail at something that matters. Fear starts overestimating danger while underestimating our ability to cope. And when that happens, avoidance can quietly take over our lives.

Fear-based avoidance sounds reasonable on the surface. I’ll do it when I feel more confident. I’ll speak up once I’m less anxious. I’ll pursue that thing after I fix myself first. But avoidance doesn’t make fear shrink. It teaches your nervous system that fear was right all along. Every time you avoid, your brain learns: Good call. That was dangerous. The fear grows stronger, broader, and more convincing.

This is where Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) offers a different approach—not about eliminating fear, but about changing your relationship to it.

Fear Is Sensation Plus Story

ACT draws an important distinction between the physical sensations of fear and the stories our minds tell about those sensations. The body does its thing: racing heart, tight chest, shallow breathing. The mind piles on meaning: This is unbearable. This will end badly. You can’t handle this.

Those thoughts feel authoritative, but they’re not commands—they’re mental events. ACT calls the process of stepping back from them cognitive defusion. Instead of arguing with fear (“This isn’t scary!”), you notice it: I’m having the thought that this will end in disaster. That small shift creates space. You’re no longer inside the story; you’re observing it.

Fear loses some of its grip when it’s seen as information rather than instruction.

Values Give Fear a Direction

Avoidance thrives when fear is the boss. Values flip the hierarchy.

Values aren’t goals you complete; they’re directions you move in. Connection. Integrity. Creativity. Justice. Curiosity. Care. They answer the question: What kind of person do I want to be, even when it’s uncomfortable?

ACT doesn’t ask, How do I get rid of fear so I can live my life? It asks, What do I want my life to stand for—and am I willing to feel fear in service of that?

This matters because fear shows up most intensely around things that matter. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be scared. Anxiety before speaking up often points to a value of honesty or fairness. Fear of rejection often signals a longing for connection. Fear isn’t proof you’re weak—it’s evidence that you’re alive and invested.

Accepting Pain Without Surrendering Your Life

Acceptance in ACT doesn’t mean liking fear or resigning yourself to suffering. It means making room for discomfort without letting it decide your behavior. You stop fighting sensations that can’t be controlled and start focusing on actions that can be chosen.

Try this in real time:

  • Name the sensations (“tight throat,” “heat in my face”).
  • Breathe into them rather than away from them.
  • Remind yourself: This is uncomfortable, not dangerous.

Pain shrinks when it’s allowed and grows when it’s resisted. Avoidance trades short-term relief for long-term restriction. Acceptance trades short-term discomfort for long-term freedom.

Courage Is Usually Small and Repetitive

We tend to think of courage as something dramatic: charging into battle, stepping onto a stage, making a grand declaration. But most courage is quiet and unglamorous. It’s sending the email you’re tempted to overthink for a week. It’s staying present during a difficult conversation. It’s showing up imperfectly instead of waiting to feel ready.

Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s choosing to act while fear rides along in the passenger seat.

ACT emphasizes commitment—making small, values-based promises to yourself and keeping them, even when your mind protests. Start tiny. Not “I’ll never avoid again,” but “I’ll take one step toward what matters today.” Momentum builds through repetition, not intensity.

Practical Ways to Challenge Fear-Based Avoidance

  • Name the function of avoidance. Ask, What is this avoiding helping me not feel right now? Relief, embarrassment, vulnerability?
  • Shrink the step. Fear thrives on vagueness. Make actions concrete and doable.
  • Bring fear with you. Stop waiting for it to leave. Say, You can come, but you don’t get to drive.
  • Track values, not comfort. Measure success by alignment, not ease.
  • Practice defusion daily. Thoughts repeat; your relationship to them can change.

Fear will always try to keep you safe. Thank it for the intention—and then gently remind it that safety is not the same thing as living.

You don’t need to be fearless to live boldly. You just need to be willing.

Therapy, Uncategorized

Finding Peace in a Chaotic World

Reframing the Present Moment in Troubling Times

As a therapist, I sit daily with clients who are deeply troubled by the world around them. The political landscape—both domestic and international—feels increasingly divisive. Newsfeeds are full of polarization, violence, climate disasters, and human suffering. For many, it’s not just background noise—it’s a constant hum of distress, a source of anxiety that feels both urgent and completely out of their control.

I understand that distress. I feel it too. But over the years, both personally and professionally, I’ve come to believe something important: peace is not found in ignoring the chaos. Peace is found in how we relate to it.

We live in a time where we’re more informed than ever, yet often feel more powerless than ever. We carry global suffering in our pockets, absorbing a relentless stream of information we were never meant to hold. While our awareness can deepen empathy, it can also overwhelm us, leaving us paralyzed or despairing. The solution is not to disengage—but to refocus.

Mindfulness: Returning to the Present Moment

One of the most powerful tools I teach is present-focused mindfulness. That’s not just sitting cross-legged and breathing (though that can help). It’s the daily, moment-to-moment practice of bringing our attention back from the swirling chaos of the world into what’s right in front of us.

When your mind spirals with “What ifs?” about the future or ruminates on all that’s going wrong, mindfulness invites a different question: “What is happening right now?”

Right now, your feet are on the ground. You’re breathing. You’re alive. Perhaps someone nearby needs kindness. Perhaps there’s a small task in front of you that deserves your care. The practice of noticing, grounding, and gently returning to now—again and again—is not escapism. It’s choosing to anchor yourself in a storm.

When the world feels out of control, mindfulness reminds us: this moment is still yours.

Reframing: Shifting from Helplessness to Engagement

Many of my clients come in with language like, “Everything is falling apart,” or “There’s nothing I can do.” While those feelings are valid, they’re often rooted in distorted, all-or-nothing thinking. This is where cognitive reframingbecomes essential.

Reframing doesn’t mean denying reality. It means choosing to see the fuller picture. Yes, there is suffering and injustice. And—there is also kindness, resilience, and people doing good work every single day.

Ask yourself:

  • Can I honor the pain of the world without letting it consume me?
  • Can I acknowledge what’s wrong without losing sight of what’s right?

Reframing allows us to hold both truths. It opens space for agency and hope, without demanding toxic positivity or denial.

Control the Controllables

One of the biggest sources of distress is the feeling that we should be doing more, knowing more, solving more. But the truth is, we can’t control everything. Not even close.

Here’s a therapeutic mantra I often share:
“Focus on what you can control. Let go of what you can’t. Know the difference.”

You can’t control political decisions made across the world. But you can control how you show up today. You can limit your news intake. You can vote. You can engage in difficult conversations with respect and curiosity. You can be kind to your neighbor. You can raise your children with empathy and integrity.

This isn’t about shrinking your concern. It’s about focusing your energy where it can actually make a difference—and protecting your mental health in the process.

Zooming In: The Power of Local and Micro Acts

When we constantly focus on the macro—global headlines, massive systems, overwhelming statistics—we often end up feeling powerless. But zoom in, and you’ll see a different picture.

Change happens locally. Healing happens in micro moments.

Ask yourself:

  • What’s happening in my community?
  • Who can I help?
  • How can I make one person’s day better?

One client of mine felt despair over climate change—until she committed to adjusting her own lifestyle choices to reduce her carbon footprint. Another was overwhelmed by political vitriol—until he joined a respectful bipartisan group as a way to humanize those he disagreed with. Small actions, grounded in values, create ripples.

When you zoom in, you realize: you’re not powerless. You’re part of something.

Living According to Values-Based Commitments

Mindfulness and reframing help us calm the storm. But long-term peace comes from living in alignment with our values—especially in a chaotic world.

Ask yourself:

  • What kind of person do I want to be?
  • What values matter most to me—compassion, justice, integrity, community?
  • How can I embody those values, right here, right now?

You may not be able to fix the world. But you can show up with courage, kindness, and purpose. You can be a steady, grounded presence for others. You can take action not from panic, but from principle.

This is the heart of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), one of the frameworks I often use in therapy: aligning your actions with your values, even when things feel uncertain or hard.


In a divided, noisy, and often painful world, calm may feel elusive. But peace is not the absence of chaos—it’s how you hold yourself within it.

So breathe. Come back to this moment. Zoom in. Reframe. Act with intention. And trust that even your smallest acts of grounded, values-based living matter.

Because they do.

:), Susan Reimers, JD/LICSW