and This Fear is My Strength
By Ali Ansari
Twenty-five years ago, I launched a technology firm with a couple of co-founders; Ibex Technologies. We chose the name because of the animal’s remarkable ability to climb the steepest heights. For me, it was symbolic of conquering the fear of failing or falling.
Today, even after all these years, I still feel that fear. But instead of resenting it, I use it as a strength to focus. The journey has been long, and here are the lessons I’ve learned.
1. Fear is an emotion
Fear is the primitive brain rebooting the “fight, flight, or freeze” response when facing adversity. The solution isn’t to suppress it; it is to acknowledge it. Appreciate that your subconscious is telling you that you are at an edge. It’s dangerous, there is risk, and you better be fully prepared.
I’m not sure if my training as an auditor has something to do with it, but now my first response to fear is to understand it. Understanding why you are feeling the fear and applying diagnostics, the “what” and the “why” of the threat, is the best way to face the instigation and deal with it.
Diagnostics is usually the first step to fixing a problem, whether it’s a balance sheet or your own nervous system.
2. It’s okay to be overwhelmed
“Losing your shit” is a natural reaction to fear.
Twenty-five years ago, I fell off my motorbike, sliding toward an oncoming car; the driver managed to stop the wheel only two inches from crushing my head. I was so gripped by that trauma that I didn’t ride again for twenty years.
When you are in the grip of fear, you need anchors. Once I acknowledge the overwhelm, I stabilize myself through comfort in what heals: family, friends, meditation, or prayers. I refocus on passions like playing music or taking a long motorbike ride to gain back control of my senses.
Just last month, I finally earned my license for a super sports bike. Riding damp, windy roads is immense fun when you are no longer a hostage to fear, but using it as a tool for focus.
3. The leap of faith
You can minimize fear by choosing a safe path, but you would also be minimizing life. Having a child, letting them go out alone, or starting a business all require a leap of faith.
I had a paralyzing fear of heights and water. When I first tried wall climbing, I froze at just two meters, my arms aching from pure tension. But I persevered.
Today, I can look down from an office on the 37th floor or climb a ladder to my roof without that dizzying nausea. I’ve swum with dolphins, explored coral reefs in the Red Sea, and done bungee jumping. Each time, the same two-meter freeze threatened to stop me. Each time, I moved anyway.
Fear emerges in the unknown, and the unknown is the core of exploration. Without exploration, living is mere existence..
4. Build courage or change course
Confidence is the quiet assurance that you have measured the gap between your reach and the mountain’s demands. I learned this at Ibex. While we built a good franchise, we eventually ran out of working capital.
As trained Chartered Accountants, our failure wasn’t mathematical; it was emotional. We were so afraid of losing each other that we avoided the hard conversations, until there was nothing left to save.
True strength is acknowledging when a gap is too wide to leap alone and finding the right “climbing partners.” There is a specific bravery in recognizing when a route is a dead end and prioritizing the summit over the ego.
5. Preparation as the Equalizer
Fear is your internal early-warning system. I now keep an eye out for it. When I sense it early, instead of panicking, I plan and prepare.
By sensing fear early, you gain the time to double-check your gear and scout a better path. This keeps you humble; the mountain doesn’t care about your past successes, your credentials, or your good intentions
Every new day is a new cliff face. Embracing fear means admitting you don’t have all the answers, which ironically makes you a better leader. If you ever stop being afraid, you’ve likely stopped growing.
The New Mountain
Twenty-five years later, I’m at the base of another mountain. This one looks bigger, but so am I. Over the years, I’ve developed a deep understanding of who I am and where I need help.
This new venture will either validate everything I’ve learned or teach me lessons I can’t yet imagine. Either way, the fear tells me I’m climbing something worth the risk.
I’ve thought through hundreds of potential challenges. The fear is still there, but now I carry it as a guide, not a handicap. The mountain hasn’t gotten smaller, and the drop hasn’t gotten shallower.
But I’m ready, because I’m still afraid, and that fear is my strength.
