I bet I can name something that you hate and/or fear more than anything else. More than spiders, rollercoasters, horror movies, and things that go bump in the night.

Ready?

Ambiguity.

*screams*

Ambiguity is the great unknown. It’s the feeling of not knowing what’s going to happen next—and therefore not having a sense of control over what happens next. It shows up uninvited at some of the toughest moments in life: wondering whether you should stay in your current job or leave (and what if you don’t find something you like?!?), every time your text is left on read, during those awkward relationship phases where you’re left thinking, “Are we together or just friends?”—and, of course, when you’re grappling with the timeless question: “Is this just gas, or am I having a heart attack?”

If uncertainty were a human, it would borrow your favorite sweater and never clearly say when it plans to return it.

Ambiguity is uncomfortable. But I’m not going to teach you how to get rid of ambiguity in this blog. Instead, I’m going to teach you how to sit with it—how to feel that discomfort without flailing like a confused octopus trying to put on mittens.

Why Ambiguity Feels Icky

Your brain is basically a prediction machine. It looks for patterns, familiar faces, plots with clear endings, and for your coffee to taste the exact same every morning. So when life throws you something like “We’ll see…”, your nervous system goes, “Error! Threat! Must panic! “ because ambiguity looks suspiciously like danger.

That’s not you being dramatic. That’s your brain doing its job… just very badly in modern life. Your brain is built to solve problems—like what to do if a dog is chasing you or how to do algebra—but it needs something concrete to work with. When it can’t figure out what’s going to happen next, it fills in the gaps with what might happen to prepare you. And unfortunately, what it comes up with is usually the worst-case scenario.

Ambiguity tends to make us:

• Overanalyze everything like it’s a cryptic crossword.

• Invent interpretations that range from “they’re busy” to “they hate me.”

• Rush decisions just to escape the discomfort.

These reactions make sense. They just don’t work very well.

Ambiguity Tolerance: It’s a Thing and You Can Develop It

Psychologists talk about ambiguity tolerance—basically how well someone can sit with uncertainty without their stress levels doing parkour. People with low tolerance experience “I’m not sure yet,” “I don’t know” or “…” as deeply unsettling. People with higher tolerance see it as annoying, but survivable.

Here’s the good news (finally!): this isn’t a fixed trait. You’re not doomed to be “bad with uncertainty” forever. Like patience, emotional regulation, or not picking your nose, this is a skill you can build.

How to Deal With Ambiguity Without Yelling at the Universe

Here’s what actually helps in real life:

Name what’s happening. When that uneasy feeling kicks in, say it plainly: “This feels uncomfortable because I don’t have clarity yet.” That single sentence creates distance between you and the panic. You’re not falling apart—you’re reacting to uncertainty.

Separate facts from stories. Ask yourself: What do I actually know? What am I filling in because my brain hates blank space?

If your list of all the bad things that could go wrong is long and your list of evidence to support it is short, congratulations—you’ve just proven that what you’re thinking is just your brain making things up.

Set a decision or check-in point. Instead of monitoring the situation constantly, decide when you’ll revisit it. Tomorrow. Next week. After you get more information. This gives your mind permission to stand down instead of ringing the fire alarm all day.

Focus on what is within reach. Uncertainty doesn’t mean you’re powerless. You can still take care of yourself, rest, and live your life. Waiting for clarity doesn’t require putting yourself on pause.

A little acceptance goes a long way. Ambiguity isn’t proof that something is wrong. It’s just the space where life hasn’t given you the next chapter yet. Instead of telling yourself, “I can’t relax until I know,” try: “I don’t know yet—and I can still be okay right now.”

That shift doesn’t remove uncertainty. It removes unnecessary suffering.

You’ve already survived ambiguous situations. And you’re still standing.

Ambiguity isn’t here to ruin your life. It’s here to teach you that you’re more capable than your anxious brain gives you credit for—even when there’s no neat answer, timeline, or guarantee.

So when your brain starts sounding the alarm, try this: “We are not in danger. There is no emergency. Please focus on the important things, like what we should put in my sandwich and which movie we’re watching.”

And if that doesn’t work, distract it completely. As someone once suggested to me: “That’s enough worrying. Count how many bricks are in that house.”

Not knowing is uncomfortable. But you’reallowed to be uncomfortable without being afraid.