How can I stop feeling insecure?

Insecurity, meaning and the courage to be

I have often had this question from teens, though I feel it remains relevant throughout adult life. The short answer is: you don’t, really.

On a general level, insecurity is a feeling of doubt or inadequacy about yourself. It is often accompanied by a great deal of uncertainty. Everyone deals with and experiences insecurtiy slightly differently.

For me, the most comforting thing I’ve come to learn is that as much as we are unique individuals, we are also not so unique at all. We are alone, but also not alone. This is the paradox of what it means to be human. You are not alone in feeling insecure, anxious, or groundless.

Yet, insecurity can often feel lonely. It is helped little by others who say “it will pass” or “you’ll grow out of it.” Insecurities come and go throughout a lifetime. To be insecure and to be anxious is a fundamental part of being human.

This was explained well by Paul Tillich in The Courage to Be, a work that has stood the test of time and continues to resonate today. Because as much as the world has changed—and our time is unique—it is also not so unique in that it is still occupied by humans who experience the same insecurities they always have.

Tillich writes that to understand the fact that we (or anything) exist at all, we must confront the concept of nothingness. To truly glimpse the idea of nothingness is almost unthinkable to the human mind. When we try to imagine nothing, something always comes to mind—blackness, falling, air, space—but never true “nothing.” To approach genuinely conceiving of “nothing” can produce a kind of terror in us.

This sense of unease—that quiet terror we feel when we try to imagine nothingness—isn’t just an abstract thought experiment. Tillich suggests it’s something much deeper. It’s part of what it means to be human. He describes three core types of anxiety that come from this confrontation with nothingness. These aren't just passing moods, but fundamental ways we experience insecurity in our lives.

1. Anxiety of fate and death

It is perhaps easiest to understand nothingness through the concept of death: when someone is gone, they are gone. A primal part of us understands that our sense of reality is always made up of two things—ourselves and the world around us—and they exist together. If either one disappears—if there's no person to experience the world, or no world for the person to experience—then the relationship between them disappears. That reality is gone.

What we call “fate” includes all the factors outside of our control—the random events that happen on a daily, even moment-to-moment basis, to which we have no choice but to respond. In many ways, we are at the mercy of the world around us, and our existence could vanish into nothingness. One wrong move. One car running a red light. A genetic disease that ends our life. Even when the threat of death isn’t present, the anxiety remains—because of the insecurity and fragility of our existence.

The fact that everything we are and do could suddenly come to an end through factors outside of our control makes us anxious, it makes us insecure.

2. Anxiety of emptiness and meaninglessness

Humans have a spirit. I don’t mean this in a religious sense, but in the sense that there’s a part of us that finds meaning and fulfilment. We live creatively. Every action we take—from the way we make our coffee, to our hobbies, to the way we talk to our families at the dinner table—expresses a desire to participate meaningfully. When we change what we participate in, we confirm to ourselves that our lives have meaning.

The anxiety of meaninglessness is the fear of losing what matters most. This anxiety—or insecurity—arises when the beliefs we hold dear begin to collapse, either through external events or internal shifts. We may find we can no longer participate in the culture or causes we once felt passionately devoted to. We are human by shaping and understanding our reality through the meanings and values we assign to it. When we become estranged from what we hold dear and the things which gie our lives meaning disintegrate, we experience deep insecurity.

3. Anxiety of guilt and condemnation

This form of anxiety or insecurity stems from the fact that we, as humans, are answerable to ourselves. We feel responsible for our existence and judge ourselves for what we have made of it. We ask ourselves to be the judge—and so often, we stand against ourselves. In this situation, we become guilty and insecure. We begin to reject and condemn ourselves.

We may have only finite freedom, but we are still free—within our limits. And so the question haunts us: What did I do with that freedom?

But none of this necessarily helps us know what to do about feeling insecure.

If we follow Tillich’s framing of anxiety, then perhaps the task is to figure out what truly matters to us. What values and morals do we hold ourselves to? How much of that is shaped by the world, and how much by us? Is our insecurity a signal that something is misaligned—that we are not living in accordance with our own values?

The model of psychological flexibility aligns with this approach. It emphasizes becoming aware of what we value in life, and taking committed action to live in line with those values. Insecurity might be an indicator—not that we’re broken, but that we’re not yet living the way we want to live.

"But I need to stop being insecure before I can take those steps..."

Well, I’m not so sure. I don’t think it’s even possible to eliminate those feelings without first taking some kind of step.

It is normal—and okay—to feel anxious, to feel insecure. The trick is to identify workable steps and actions. Ones that are doable, that are manageable—no matter how small. Small actions add up quickly. Once you’ve identified them, take them anxious. Take them insecure. Take them in spite of the anxiety.

Tillich named his work The Courage to Be for precisely this reason: that the fact that humans exist and keep going at all is an act of courage. Courage is enacted by each of us in small ways every day—in every moment we defy “nothingness,” in every action we take despite feeling anxious, despite feeling insecure. Despite the fact that you may not be here tomorrow, despite the fact that what you love could vanish, despite the fact you could dissapoint yourself.

Taking a small step toward what matters to you—especially when you’re unsure—is an act of courage.

Growth is possible

The thing is, as you start to take those actions—even small ones—you begin to prove to yourself that you can be the person you want to be. Over time, those small steps add up. They may even become bigger changes.

And the wonderful thing is, you never have to stick to just one set of values. What gives you meaning and fulfillment can evolve as you do—shaped by your experiences, the life you build, and what you come to understand for yourself. You’re allowed to grow, to change, and to redefine what matters. Meaning isn’t fixed. It can shift and deepen as you go.

You are not a fixed thing. Growth is possible.