Anxiety as an Attempt at Protection

Anxiety often gets a bad reputation. It is painted as something we must “get rid of” at all costs. But what if anxiety is not the enemy? What if, instead, it is our mind and body’s way of trying—however imperfectly—to keep us safe?

From an evolutionary perspective, anxiety is rooted in the “fight, flight, freeze” response. When our ancestors faced predators or danger, physiological arousal—racing heart, quickened breath, tense muscles—helped them survive. Modern-day anxiety is this same system, but it can become miscalibrated. Instead of lions or snakes, our triggers might be exams, work presentations, or social interactions.

Neuroscience research shows that the amygdala, the brain’s threat detector, plays a central role in anxiety. When it perceives danger, it activates the sympathetic nervous system. The problem is that the amygdala is not very good at distinguishing between real threats and perceived ones. That’s why even harmless situations can spark intense worry.

Seen in this light, anxiety is a form of protection. It says, “Be careful—something could go wrong.” For some people, this protective instinct is helpful; it motivates preparation, vigilance, and caution. For others, it overshoots, leaving them paralysed or overwhelmed.

Therapeutic approaches such as Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) help clients identify anxious thoughts, test their accuracy, and gently recalibrate the body’s alarm system. Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) goes a step further, inviting us to accept anxiety as part of being human while still choosing actions aligned with our values.

Reframing anxiety as protective does not mean minimising its impact. It can be distressing and exhausting. But it also reminds us that anxiety is not a flaw—it is a signal. By listening to it with curiosity rather than judgment, we can learn to understand what it’s trying to protect us from, and whether that protection is truly needed.

In other words: anxiety is not here to harm you. It is here to help you survive. The work lies in teaching it when it can rest.