Things That Make Me Nervous

There’s a certain silence that speaks louder than words. Like when you send a message and there’s no reply. Or when you say something important and the room just goes quiet. My brain starts filling the gaps. Was I wrong? Did I overshare? Should I have said less?

These moments hit harder during virtual meetings. No eye contact. No reactions. Just a paused screen and a racing mind. I find myself scanning every sentence I said, trying to figure out what went off. The silence stretches. So does the doubt.

It’s strange how something as simple as no response can make you feel like everything’s falling apart inside.

Living with uncertainty

I’ve never liked waiting. I need clarity. I need to know what’s next. Whether it's a message left on read, a decision hanging in the air, or a future I can't predict. The not knowing eats me up.

Even when I try to stay calm, my mind races. I keep checking for updates. I go over all the possible outcomes. And none of it helps. The worst part is, deep down, I know life will never give you full control. Still, the lack of answers always leaves me uneasy.

Some people thrive in the unknown. I get nervous. Always have.

Trying to be liked all the time

I notice small changes. A slightly colder tone. A delayed response. A joke that didn’t land well. And once I notice, I don’t stop thinking about it.

I care too much about how others feel. I try to adjust, smooth things over, keep everyone comfortable. But that effort, done too often, becomes a trap. You lose your edge. You overthink every word. You become tired.

I’ve read all the advice. “Be yourself.” “Not everyone has to like you.” I agree with all of it. But putting it into action is a different story.

Parenting fears I never saw coming

Becoming a parent adds a new layer to everything. I no longer just worry about myself. Now, I worry about her. Her future. Her safety. Her happiness.

There are no straight answers. You do your best, and still wonder if your best is enough. And in a world that feels more uncertain with each passing day, that nervousness never really leaves.

Even the quiet moments are filled with thoughts. Am I doing it right? Will she grow up okay? It’s not panic. It’s just a steady, low hum of responsibility playing in the background of every single day.

Speaking up when it truly matters

I can talk. I can show. I can lead a meeting. But when the topic gets real and close to my heart, my voice hesitates. Not because I don’t know what to say, but because I care too much about how it will land.

There have been times I wanted to speak up but stayed silent. Times I chose peace over honesty. And those moments linger. Not speaking your truth makes you question your courage later.

I’m learning to choose honesty anyway. Even if my hands sweat and my voice shakes.

Final thoughts

Nervousness is not weakness. It’s just a sign that something matters to you. The silence, the waiting, the fear of judgment , it all means you care. And that is not something to be ashamed of.

I’ve made peace with it. Some nerves are good. They keep you grounded. They remind you that your heart’s still in the game.