The UX of Fear

I used to be terrified of roller coasters.

Not just the kind of fear you push through — the kind that makes your legs lock up at the gate. I’d watch friends get in line while I stayed back, pretending I wasn’t interested. But the truth was: I couldn’t handle not knowing what would happen.

That same fear showed up in other places too.
Big presentations. Live demos. First product launches.
Anything where I didn’t have full control.

I used to think fear was a sign I wasn’t ready.
Now I think fear is part of the user experience of doing something that matters.

And I’ve learned how to use it.

The Rollercoaster That Changed How I Build

Someone once said to me — jokingly, but not really —

“You want to be a CEO, but you won’t ride a roller coaster?”

I couldn’t shake it.

A few months later, I made myself ride not just any roller coaster — but the fastest one in the world. Then the tallest. Not because I suddenly loved thrill rides. But because I needed to teach myself that fear isn’t a stop sign — it’s a signal.

I realized that what scared me wasn’t the risk.
It was the lack of control over what came next.

And that maps perfectly to building.
You design something, test it, and then you ship it.
And in that moment between release and response — you feel the same drop.
Same adrenaline. Same what-if spiral.
The difference is: I’ve learned how to stay in the seat.

Fear Has a UX. You Just Have to Learn It.

When I think about fear now, I think of it like bad UX:
Too much and you freeze.
Too little and you stop paying attention.
The sweet spot is tension with trust — enough to keep you sharp, not enough to paralyze you.

Fear isn’t something to avoid.
It’s something to design around.

In product, that means:

• Building for failure modes before they happen.

• Writing fallback systems that aren’t fragile.

• Releasing with enough logging and memory to understand what breaks — and why.

In life, that means:

• Preparing deeply, but knowing you’ll never control everything.

• Acting before you're ready — but not before you're intentional.

• Trusting that discomfort doesn't always mean danger. Sometimes it just means growth.

Why I Trust Fear Now

The more I’ve built — especially with Kodezi — the more I’ve learned to use fear as a signal.
If a decision doesn’t make me hesitate, it might not be ambitious enough.
If I’m too comfortable before launch, I probably played it too safe.
If I’m scared, it means the stakes are real. And that’s where the best work happens.

Fear used to keep me on the sidelines.
Now, it keeps me focused.

You Can’t Remove the Fear — But You Can Redesign the Ride

Roller coasters still scare me.
So do big releases.
But I don’t avoid either anymore.

I’ve learned how to get on, feel everything, and stay steady anyway.
Not because the drop isn’t real — but because I’ve trained myself to build through it.

Fear isn’t failure.
It’s feedback.
And if you design for it, you don’t just survive the drop.
You come out sharper on the other side.