We often hear questions like “What do you want to do in the future?” or “What’s next?” from our family, relatives, neighbours, and sometimes even friends. This question seems simple; however, it is heavy enough to terrify a person. It triggers not just a complex emotion but a quiet anxiety that occurs psychologically. It occurs because questions like these often contain inquiries that tap into the deep-seated fear of our worth and position in the world. So what are the major reasons that can turn simple questions like these into a “quiet terror”?  

Fear of the myth of final answer

Because the people asking this question expect an answer from us that would satisfy them, and hence, it will soon be recorded as the final destination. The whole process feels like standing in a courtroom, taking an oath, and then being locked in forever. It becomes a promise with the unknown and also with ourselves. 

The whole situation explains the hidden fear of “what if” we fail and prove our answers “wrong.” We forget that this will be a hypothesis of the plan, not a prophecy that should be followed. Another reason for feeling extreme terror is that sometimes we are too hesitant to admit, “I don’t know,” as it can be an expression of defeat or a lack of ambition, but in reality, this could be the most honest answer.

Fear of judgment and disappointment 

Sometimes we feel extra pressure while answering the questions regarding our plan because the fear comes from external factors like judgments and disappointments. This is not only a side effect that prevents us from giving a solid answer but also a primary blocker that freezes our thought process. 

When asked, we don’t search for instant data, but potential answers that represent our seriousness in taking important decisions like these. While answering, we constantly worry about others’ opinions, “Will my answer be practical enough?”, “Will it sound impressive and confident?” 

This does not happen very consciously but happens in a flash. Besides the judgment’s fear, another fear is evoked as the more powerful one: the fear of disappointment. We expect a hopeful look while answering, but the mind constantly worries if our answers don’t meet the expectations or silent hope. Stating the plan out loud makes people aware of our plan. 

The constant fear of letting others know our plan and then failing to achieve it disappoints us to the core. So, it feels safer to avoid the risk and stay vague than to commit and face our potential failures. 

Uncertainty and less self-confidence 

The present world is quite chaotic and increasingly unpredictable. Sometimes, we feel lost in the rush of competition, and hence, our self-confidence drops. So, having a five-year plan can feel impossible. 

The question of having a plan for the future can feel like a demand for certainty in a world that is full of uncertainty and offers very little. When this feeling of uncertainty meets a lack of self-confidence, it automatically creates fear of defeat and missing out during the process. 

This turns a simple question into a high-stakes performance where we feel our entire life choices are being graded based on a minute-long answer.

Fear of being exposed

Many of us have vague dreams and ambitions. We often don’t know the concrete steps of fulfilling our dreams and thus cannot articulate the answers properly. 

Discussing our dreams often highlights the chasm between how much we want something and what we do to get it done. We fear that it will expose the gap between our ambition and action. We feel shame or anxiety if we have not yet bridged the gap, proving ourselves to be procrastinators in front of everyone.  

It questions our identity 

In today’s society, what we do reflects who we really are, and gradually our job titles become our identity. Therefore, a question related to our life plan feels like one about our core selves. 

Not having a solid career plan can cause an identity crisis, which is an existential challenge. So, the terror becomes so “quiet” that internally our mind roams around to figure out a concrete identity. 

Ultimately, the question of life plan becomes a quiet terror because it is not just a simple question for information but a profound one that is disguised in the form of small talk or a simple request. The terror comes from the fear that our answers will be judged as a final verdict on our potential, our worth, and our position in the competition,  exposing the gaps between where we are and where others are who have already figured it out. By recognising the fear that comes from the perceived consequences of the answer, we can craft our own answers that honour our reality and create less fear while answering these questions.