Recently I gave a TEDx talk in Bristol. If anyone reading this column has had the same honour, they will know exactly what I mean when I say that the famous phrase ‘Feel the fear and do it anyway’ perfectly sums up the whole experience. The TEDx rules state that you can’t use notes or prompts – you have to memorise every single word. And when you step into that red circle, an audience waiting in silence for your pearls of wisdom, believe me when I say that your heart is in your mouth.
There were fleeting moments when I felt my mind would go blank and I’d dry up. It didn’t happen, thankfully, but even as I was speaking I was acutely aware of this threat. And that is the reality of fear. Preparation does not banish it, nor will experience cancel it. It simply turns up uninvited and waits to see what you will do next.
The talk was called Purpose: The Power to Rise Again and it was built around my own story. Growing up in Troubles-era Belfast; losing everything in my thirties; rebuilding a business when retreat would have been the more comfortable option. From the outside, these moments can sound dramatic, yet living through them feels far less theatrical. Fear becomes part of the background noise of life when you take responsibility seriously.
My earliest experience of fear had nothing to do with business. At the age of four, I was caught in the infamous Abercorn bombing in Belfast. The kind of fear that comes from being buried under a load of rubble, unable to move, does not fade neatly with time. It wires itself into you, teaching you about threat, helplessness and survival long before you have the language to describe any of it.
We like to think those instincts belong to the distant past, but they still shape our reactions today. The danger may no longer be physical, but the body responds in the same way. When a larger competitor enters your market, when cashflow tightens, when a decision threatens your sense of control, the old fight or flight response kicks in. You either step forward and adapt, or you pull back and protect yourself.
Entrepreneurs tend to celebrate the idea of fighting on. Sometimes that is exactly what is required. At other times, retreat is the wiser move. Fear is both a weakness and a source of useful information. The problem begins when it operates unchecked and unnamed.
One of my strongest motivators has always been a fear of poverty. We were not destitute growing up, but money was often scarce. That leaves a mark, and even now, running a multi-million pound business, I know I could slow down or stop altogether, but I choose not to. Stability, once earned, is something you work to protect. Money may not buy happiness, but it buys options, and options matter more than we like to admit.
Fear turns up in a variety of disguises. There is self-censorship, fear of criticism, fear of being judged and imposter syndrome masquerading as modesty. We tell ourselves we will act when we feel ready, when confidence arrives, when the timing is right. Those phrases sound sensible. Instead, they are usually excuses, a way of controlling fear by avoiding it.
The phrase “Feel the fear and do it anyway” is often misunderstood. It doesn’t mean that you should automatically leap without looking first. More accurately, it is an acknowledgement that fear is inevitable whenever something matters. Courage is refusing to let fear dictate the outcome.
Over time, you can change your relationship with fear. Name it, understand where it comes from and question whether it still deserves the authority it once had. Each time you act and survive, fear loses a little of its power.
For me, fear acts as a guide rather than a brake. If something genuinely matters, fear will usually be present. This is why I take calculated risks, never reckless ones. I listen to fear without surrendering to it, because used properly, it sharpens judgement and keeps complacency at bay.
That day on the TEDx stage, fear stood alongside me. I spoke anyway. And as so often happens, it turned out to be a reminder that the things most worth doing rarely arrive without a racing heart.
