The 2 Words That Spark Anxiety—and the 8 Words That Calm It
It’s astonishing how two tiny words—what if?—can unravel your sense of peace in seconds. As a psychologist, I have a front row seat to see how they sneak into our minds quietly, then spiral into every possible worst-case scenario.
What if I fail? What if they don’t like me? What if I get sick? What if something happens to my kid?
Anxiety loves what-ifs. They fuel uncertainty, inflate fears, and hijack the brain’s ability to think clearly. From kids to grown-ups, no one is immune to these words.
But there’s an eight-word antidote that acts like a mental fire extinguisher: “What is the worst thing that can happen?”
It doesn’t encourage doom-thinking. Quite the opposite: It anchors you. It makes your brain slow down, assess reality, and realize that even if the worst happens, you can survive it. This 8-word question is Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) in action—challenging catastrophic thoughts and replacing them with grounded, realistic thinking.
From Childhood to Adulthood: Real-Life Scenarios
The following examples illustrate scenarios I have encountered in my counseling psychology practice.
Calla*, age 10, was afraid to go to a sleepover: “What if they forget about me? What if I want to come home and they won’t call my mom?”
Her dad gently asked, “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
Calla thought it through and replied, “I’d feel scared, maybe cry, but I could call and come home.”
Suddenly, she felt more in control. She ended up staying the whole night and had fun.
Elias, a college freshman, couldn’t sleep the night before his first big presentation: “What if I freeze up? What if I say something stupid? What if I forget my notes?”
He texted his older sister, who responded: “Okay, but what’s the worst thing that can happen?”
He paused, then said, “I’ll be embarrassed, but it’s one class. I’ll live.”
That shift allowed him to focus on preparing instead of panicking.
Simone, 38, was overwhelmed with anxiety after a job interview: “What if I don’t get it? What if I said something wrong?”
A close friend reminded her: “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Simone sighed, “I don’t get the job, and I keep applying.”
That realization didn’t make her love uncertainty, but it soothed the spike of anxiety.
Ronan, 62, underwent a medical test after experiencing some unusual symptoms: “What if it’s serious? What if it’s cancer?”
His therapist calmly asked, “What is the worst-case scenario? And then what?”
Ronan said, “The worst is that it’s something bad. But then, I’d get support. I’d fight it.”
He walked into his appointment less paralyzed by fear and more focused on action.
Why “What’s the Worst That Can Happen?” Works
This question works because it:
- Interrupts the spiral. It stops your brain from running wild with vague dread.
- Grounds you in reality. You’re forced to get specific rather than get lost in a “what if” fog.
- Builds emotional resilience. You start to trust your ability to cope.
- Reveals your strength. You realize you’ve handled difficult things before—and can do so again.
Tips for Using This Tool Effectively
- Say it with calm, not sarcasm. This isn’t a challenge or a shutdown; it’s a way to guide someone out of a state of panic. Use a warm, steady tone.
- Walk through it together. Help the person name what they fear and what they would do. Often, realizing that “the worst” isn’t that bad brings relief.
- Validate emotions first. Say something like, “It makes sense you’re anxious. Let’s think it through.” That builds trust before offering perspective.
- Use it with yourself, too. When your brain starts spinning, ask yourself the question—and answer it honestly.
- Reframe the outcome. After identifying the worst case, ask: “And how would I handle that?” That last part is where confidence grows.
“What if?” sparks panic. “What’s the worst that could happen?” sparks perspective.
Teach it to your kids. Share it with your friends. Whisper it to yourself when your mind races. It won’t erase all your anxiety, but it just might keep the fire from spreading.