Worry: The Truth Behind “Don’t Worry About It”
Written by Chan N.
It's 3 AM, and you're drowning in your fifth coffee, eye bags heavy and brain fuzzy. The weight of hours of studying ahead feels unbearable, and the text on your screen begins to blur, appearing almost like hieroglyphs. Overwhelmed and nearing your breaking point, you voice your worries during a call with that one genius friend. They, having already finished their studies, calmly respond, “Don’t worry about it.” But despite your friend’s words, your anxiety continues to build as the looming tests gnaw at you, making every ticking second feel all the more pressing.
Isn’t it funny how ‘don’t worry’ can sometimes make you worry even more? Your friend genuinely wants to ease your concerns, but the phrase unintentionally downplays the seriousness of your anxiety by suggesting that it is easily dismissible. Put another way, telling someone to not worry could be telling them, “Your worry isn’t a big deal.”
Originally derived from the Middle English word “worien”, which meant to strangle or harass, the term was associated with the very real threat of being attacked and killed by a wolf in the 1300s. The feeling of a powerful, untamed wolf lunging at you with lightning speed, teeth bared, jaws snapping shut around your throat — this is what it means to be worried. But now, the weight we assign to our worries falls short of the gravity and intensity they held historically. We casually throw out phrases to assuage people’s worries, but doing so can underestimate the extent of worry that people might be going through. While it may no longer be synonymous with facing a mortal threat, the sensation of worry can still be emotionally consuming.
When I was just 14, I was called up to play for my club’s U17 soccer team. Naturally, the responsibility and trust placed in me felt immense, and I was eager to prove my worth. The game was neck-and-neck, the stakes high, with both teams playing hard. Yet, in a crucial moment, I over-dribbled in the midfield, losing the ball and costing us a goal, which lost us the game. The weight of that mistake pressed heavily on me, but my team captain approached me. He put an arm around my shoulder and simply said, “Don’t worry about it. You played so well besides that, and it’s only your first game.”
How could I not worry about it? It was my first game and my one chance to prove myself to the team above; I knew he was trying to cheer me up, but it felt as if he didn’t understand what this mistake meant to me. I felt as if my other teammates were criticizing me behind my back, their sharp-glaring eyes piercing me as if a pack of wolves were staring down their prey. At that moment, my worry made me feel as if I were in danger.
Thinking back to this moment, I wish someone had genuinely understood and helped me deal with my worries. Not just a simple ‘don’t worry about it,’ but a genuine heart-to-heart conversation. As athletes, while our skills are often recognized, our mental battles are hidden, eclipsed by the glamour of the game. Our worries are our shadows; they’re always with us, looming overhead, yet cast behind us, unseen by others. When our worries are brushed aside, it feels as if a significant part of our emotional experience is unimportant. This experience of mine isn’t just limited on a personal scale — it reflects a pattern of dismissing our worries in the broader society.
The trivialization of the term ‘worry’ can significantly impact societal perceptions of mental health. By portraying worry as a minor emotion, we risk overshadowing the serious implications it can have. This is particularly pressing, given that, according to Carol Landau, a clinical professor at Brown University with a Ph.D. in human behavior, “If you keep raising levels of stress, something’s going to happen, and often it is depression.” This highlights how stress heavily contributes to disabilities today like depression, emphasizing how we need to be aware of our people’s ‘worries’.
When we understate worry as inconsequential by using phrases like ‘don’t worry,’ we unintentionally foster a culture in which those suffering from mental health conditions (which stem from our worries) are further marginalized. As a result of misusing such phrases, not only do we minimize our worries, but we also play down on these mental anguish. Anna Miller, an independent mental health care professional, gives an example where “people use excuses like ‘I have Social Anxiety Disorder’ to avoid going to a party, when their actual excuse is that they just wanted to watch Netflix in bed.” By falsely claiming to have social anxiety disorders as an excuse, we trivialize serious mental health conditions and undermine the struggles of those genuinely suffering from such disorders, reinforcing societal misunderstandings and contributing to the ignorance surrounding mental health. When undermining these mental health conditions, we are, in essence, disregarding the internal worries that many individuals experience since these concerns often lead to the development of these conditions. As these phrases become more common in our everyday language, they obscure the true nature of worry and anxiety, engulfing those genuinely struggling and leaving them feeling isolated — their silent battles with worry hidden in the growing shadows of societal misunderstandings.
Moreover, the struggle with anxiety disorders involves experiencing worry that is intense, persistent, and debilitating. Such profound worry considerably affects daily life, interpersonal relationships, and overall life satisfaction. According to Oliver J. Robinson, a professor of neuroscience and mental health at UCL, “Pathological anxiety disorders promote the detection of potentially harmful stimuli at multiple levels of cognition from perception to attention to memory and executive function.” This scientific insight illustrates how worry, particularly in pathological forms, infiltrates various cognitive functions, impacting our overall mental equilibrium. By trivializing worry, we dismiss the struggles of those with severe anxiety, preventing the establishment of understanding and empathetic environments that could help restore this mental equilibrium.
Some may argue, though, that using phrases like ‘Don’t worry about it’ is a universally understood gesture of goodwill and sympathy. It’s not always about trivializing someone’s feelings, but rather, these statements are intended as expressions of solidarity. For many, saying “Don’t worry about it” is a quick instinctive way to offer support and comfort. For instance, when someone is going through a tough time, and a colleague says, “Don’t worry about it, you’ll get through it,” it’s seen as a bonding moment with no intention of dismissing that person’s worries.
However, at the same time, saying “Don’t worry about it” can be a double-edged sword. While some may be comforted by these words, others might feel that their worries are seen as easily dismissed (as explained earlier). According to Elizabeth Scott, a stress-managing counselor with a Ph.D. in psychology, “Some people are naturally more sensitive and reactive to stress,” suggesting that certain phrases may impact certain people differently. This indicates that while some might find relief in a casual ‘Don’t worry about it,’ for others, it might exacerbate feelings of isolation as they feel that their emotions are less important. For some people, such phrases can cause people to hold their worries within them.
But what happens when we let our uncontrolled worries fester within us, unchecked and unexpressed? Take my close friend, for example. To most of us, he seemed like he had it all figured out. Always confident, always reassuring others with a casual ‘Don’t worry about it.’ He was practically a legend at our school - known for that stellar 4.6 cumulative GPA, a perfect SAT score, and a business he made that generated a couple thousand dollars. But little did we know the depth of his own worries and insecurities. He lied about his grades, fabricated stories about relationships, and even pretended to have hobbies he despised to ‘fit in’ and avoid the judgment he imagined would come if his true self were revealed.
For years, this life allowed him to cope with his worries, but the weight of maintaining these lies grew heavier with each passing day. And eventually, this fake life shattered. The life he had been living, one that was technically not even his own anymore, crumbled as it was exposed. As these unchecked worries had pushed him into creating a whole new persona, he ended up hurting both himself and us who had believed in him, emphasizing the consequences of underestimating the depth of worry that people can hold inside of them.
As I recount this recent experience, the importance of addressing people’s worries becomes undeniably clear. I always think to myself, Could things have been different if we had understood his worries and struggles earlier on? Each of us has worries casting shadows that loom behind us, unknown to others but sometimes deeply felt within. The shadow often lurks silently behind us, following our every move, and it can take on different forms, which we need to realize before people put themselves on the wrong path. Sometimes, it’s a fleeting silhouette that we barely notice; other times, it can stretch long and enshroud us, manipulating our thoughts and actions, just as it did with my friend by the time it was too late.
A small word like ‘worry’ might seem inconsequential, but it carries the weight of our fears, insecurities, and hopes. Think about the countless times you felt overwhelmed, anxious, or uncertain; the weight of those emotions isn’t just a fleeting concern. Many of us have been on both sides of the equation: the worrier seeking reassurance and the comforter offering that reassurance. However, it’s essential to remember that while our intentions might be to comfort someone, a quick ‘don’t worry about it’ can push their worries further into the shadows, causing them to loom larger and more ominously, even as they become less visible to the outside world. While it’s not necessarily a bad way to comfort someone’s concerns, it makes that person’s worries feel easily dismissive. So the next time someone opens up about their worries, maybe we should pause and take a moment to truly listen, recognizing the full shade of their emotional shadow, before resorting to a hurried dismissive comfort.
