My 4-year-old granddaughter gets night terrors. She wakes up inconsolable, virtually hysterical, and not at all awake. It takes a while to calm her down; she isn’t speaking, hearing, or even knowing that I (or her parents) am with her while it is happening. It is absolutely heartbreaking to witness, and it must be very stressful for her.
And I wondered last night, after hearing her screams, what could a 4-year-old be so afraid of that it sends her into such a state?
Which, naturally, got me thinking about fears and how we deal with them. I don’t know what she is so afraid of. When she is awake, she isn’t afraid of much! She may get upset from time to time, but she never shows such a visceral reaction.
And, at 4-years-old, she isn’t able to tell me what she is afraid of either. She admits she is “a little afraid of dogs.” She doesn’t remember her night terrors.
But even if she could verbalize it, it might sound unreasonable to me, especially for the reaction she is having in the middle of the night.
Even adults have fears that often aren’t logical. You may be afraid of losing your job and being homeless, even though that has never happened to you. You could be afraid of not having enough money, not having good health, not having good family relationships, or being afraid of the state of the world.
They may be totally logical to you, but someone else will “poo-poo” and dismiss your fears.
Your fears are just as real as my granddaughter’s, and don’t let anyone dismiss them. But, like her, we must have coping techniques for when the fears get the better of us and send us spiralling, logical or not.
Here is what we need to do:
First, we need to acknowledge that fear is a physiological experience, not just a thought.
When my granddaughter is in the middle of a night terror, there is no reasoning with her. I cannot logically explain that she is safe. I cannot debate the facts. Her little body is flooded with stress hormones. Her heart is racing. Her breathing is rapid. Her nervous system has taken over.
Adults are not that different.
When you are afraid that your job is at risk because your executive seems distant, or when a restructuring memo lands in your inbox, your body reacts before your logic does. Your shoulders tighten. Your stomach flips. You may catastrophize within seconds.
Step one is regulation before reasoning.
With my granddaughter, we do not start with questions. We start with presence. A calm voice. A steady hand on her back. Slower breathing. We lower the stimulation in the room.
For you, that may mean stepping away from your desk for five minutes. Putting both feet on the floor. Taking ten slow breaths. Naming five things you can see and four things you can hear. It sounds simple, but it tells your nervous system that you are not in immediate danger.
Fear cannot be processed well when your body is in fight-or-flight mode.
Second, separate possibility from probability.
My granddaughter may be dreaming of something terrifying. To her, in that moment, it is absolutely real. But when she wakes in the morning, the danger is gone.
As administrative professionals, you are often paid to anticipate problems. That skill can turn against you. You may think, “The budget is tight. I will be laid off.” Or “I made a mistake in the board package. My credibility is ruined.”
Is it possible? Perhaps.
Is it probable? That requires a more grounded analysis.
Ask yourself:
• What evidence do I have?
• What evidence do I not have?
• If this were happening to a colleague, what would I tell them?
Most fears lose intensity when examined in daylight.
Third, create a plan for what you can control.
When my granddaughter wakes from a night terror, we cannot control the dream. But we can control the environment. A night light. A consistent bedtime routine. A favorite stuffed animal is nearby. Predictability builds safety.
In the workplace, fear often grows in the absence of clarity. If you are afraid of losing relevance, build a development plan. Take a course. Volunteer for a cross-functional project. Ask your executive where you can add more value.
If you are afraid of financial instability, review your budget. Build an emergency fund slowly. Speak with a financial advisor.
Action reduces anxiety because it gives your brain evidence that you are not helpless.
Fourth, talk to someone safe about it.
My granddaughter cannot articulate her night terrors. But she knows we are there. Even in her half-awake state, the consistency of our presence matters.
You also need safe people. A trusted colleague. A mentor. A coach. Sometimes saying the fear out loud shrinks it. It moves from a swirling cloud in your head to a concrete sentence that can be examined.
Be careful who you share with. Not everyone handles vulnerability well. Choose someone who will not dismiss you with “Don’t worry about it” but will instead say, “Tell me more.”
Fifth, challenge the story you are telling yourself.
Fear loves dramatic storytelling.
“I will be fired.”
“I will never recover from this mistake.”
“This change will ruin everything.”
Those are stories, not facts.
Ask yourself, what is a more balanced version of this story?
“I do not have all the information yet.”
“I have made mistakes before and recovered.”
“This change may be difficult, but I have handled difficult situations before.”
My granddaughter’s brain creates a terrifying narrative at night. In the morning, she runs into the kitchen laughing, completely unaware of the drama her mind created hours earlier.
You have that same capacity to wake up from a fearful narrative.
Finally, practice compassion.
When she is in the middle of a night terror, we do not scold or yell at her. We don’t tell her she is being irrational and try to show her logic. We hold her calmly and just wait. I remind myself that this will pass, as I know my stress levels are higher at that moment too!
You deserve that same kindness from yourself.
Fear does not mean you are weak. It means you care. You care about your job, your income, your family, your reputation, and your future.
And yes, some fears are unreasonable. But dismissing them does not make them disappear. Meeting them with calm, clarity, and practical steps does.
My granddaughter will likely outgrow her night terrors. Her nervous system will mature. Her imagination will become less overwhelming at night.
As adults, we do not outgrow fear. But we can outgrow being controlled by control.
The next time fear wakes you up at 2 a.m., screaming in your mind the way my granddaughter sometimes screams down the hall, remember this: you do not need to solve everything in that moment. Start with calm. Move to clarity. Take one small action.
And above all, be as gentle with yourself as you would be with a frightened four-year-old.
Because sometimes, that is exactly who we are inside when fear takes over.