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Updated 28 October 2026 · Published by Loopless Mind, the editorial site of the unLooper app's developer. Educational content, not medical advice.
An illustrative example, not a real person: Daniel's commuter train slowed, shuddered and stopped in a cutting somewhere between two stations. The driver's voice came over the speaker: "We're being held at a red signal. I'll update you as soon as I know more." Then nothing. No estimate, no reason. Around him, people reacted in very different ways. A woman opposite went back to her crossword. A student put his headphones in. Daniel opened three travel apps in a row, refreshed each one twice, drafted a message to his manager, deleted it, and started calculating which meetings he would miss if the delay lasted ten minutes, thirty minutes, an hour.
Eleven minutes later the train moved off. He was four minutes late for work. The delay itself cost him almost nothing; the not knowing had cost him most of the journey. If you recognise yourself in Daniel, this guide is about how to deal with uncertainty in everyday life: the small, unglamorous kind that fills ordinary days, and a few habits that make it easier to carry.
Most uncertainty is not dramatic. It is a reply that has not come yet, a medical appointment next Thursday, a vague comment from your landlord about "reviewing the rent", a project at work that might or might not be cancelled. None of these is a crisis. But each one leaves a question open, and an open question tends to pull attention back to it, again and again.
For some people that pull is mild. For others it turns into checking, planning for every outcome and replaying possibilities long after there is anything useful left to think. The question stays exactly as open as it was, but you feel more tired.
Researchers use the term "intolerance of uncertainty" for a tendency to find unknown outcomes especially distressing, regardless of how likely something bad actually is. In a 2016 review, psychologist R. Nicholas Carleton argued that fear of the unknown may be a basic fear that sits underneath many forms of anxiety. That is a theoretical proposal rather than a settled fact, but it matches what many people notice: a clear "no" can feel easier than an endless "maybe".
Older research on worry points in a similar direction. Borkovec and colleagues described worry, back in 1983, as a chain of thoughts that is mostly about possible future events and is hard to control. A common interpretation is that worry feels like preparation: if you think through every scenario, perhaps nothing can catch you off guard. Later work, including Watkins's 2008 review of repetitive thought, suggests that this kind of abstract, "what if" thinking tends to be less helpful than concrete thinking about specific next steps. In other words, the mind is trying to protect you, but it uses a tool that rarely delivers certainty.
Waiting: test results, a job decision, a reply to an important message.
Change at work: reorganisations, new managers, rumours in the kitchen.
Money and housing: rent reviews, irregular income, unexpected bills.
Health: a symptom you have not had checked, or a family member's appointment.
Plans with other people: a friend who has not confirmed, a trip that depends on the weather.
Travel: delays, missed connections, cancellations with no explanation.
Several things feel helpful in the moment but tend to keep the discomfort going. Repeated checking (refreshing the app, the inbox, the tracking page) gives a tiny hit of relief and then trains you to check again. Reassurance seeking works the same way: asking a partner "Do you think it'll be fine?" for the fourth time rarely settles anything. Over-researching can turn one question into twenty. Rehearsing the worst case feels like preparation but often only adds more vivid images, which our guide on how to stop catastrophizing covers in more detail. And avoidance, such as not opening the letter or postponing the call, keeps the question open for longer than it needs to be.
Uncertain moments blur facts and predictions together. Take a minute and write two short lists. Under "What I know", put only things you could show someone: "The train has stopped. The driver said red signal. My first meeting is at 9:30." Under "What I'm guessing", put the rest: "It'll be an hour. My manager will be annoyed. I'll look unreliable."
The second list is usually longer and much louder. Seeing it written down does not make the guesses false, but it shows you how much of the stress is coming from predictions rather than events. You can then ask a gentler question of each guess: "How likely is this, really, and what would I do if it happened?"
Most uncertainty has a point where you will learn more: the next announcement, the date the results are due, the meeting on Friday. Name that moment explicitly. Then decide what you will do until then, and what, if anything, you will do once it arrives.
On the train, that might sound like: "The next update will come from the driver. Until then I'll send one short message to my manager and read my book. If we haven't moved in twenty minutes, I'll move my first meeting." This is close to what Peter Gollwitzer calls an implementation intention, an "if this happens, then I'll do that" plan, and research suggests such plans make follow-through more likely. The point is not to control the outcome, but to give your mind somewhere to rest between now and the next real piece of information.
Tolerance for uncertainty seems to behave a little like a muscle: it may grow with practice, in small doses, when nothing much is at stake. Some low-stakes experiments:
Order a dish you have never tried without reading reviews.
Wait an hour before checking whether someone has read your message.
Take a different route home without checking the map first.
Leave one small decision until the day itself, such as what to cook on Saturday.
Notice what happens. Usually the discomfort rises, peaks and fades on its own, and the outcome is fine or merely average. Each time, you collect a small piece of evidence that you can handle not knowing.
Another illustrative example. Priya, a payroll coordinator, receives a company-wide email on Tuesday: "We are reviewing team structures and will share more by the end of the month." By Tuesday evening she has read it nine times and searched online for "restructuring what to expect".
She tries the two-list method. What I know: there is a review; details will come by the end of the month; nobody has spoken to me directly; my last appraisal was positive. What I'm guessing: my role will be cut; I won't find another job; we'll have to move.
Next she names the next known moment: the update promised by the end of the month, about three weeks away. Until then she chooses two useful actions, updating her CV on Sunday afternoon and asking her manager one direct question at their regular one-to-one, and she gives herself permission to stop researching. When the restructuring thoughts return during the evening, she notes them briefly in a "for the end of the month" list rather than starting another search. The uncertainty is still there. But it now has edges, a date and two concrete tasks. If a real decision does follow, our guide on making a hard decision without all the information picks up from there.
Waiting to feel certain before acting. Certainty may never come; a good-enough next step usually can.
Treating every "what if" as a task. Some questions cannot be answered yet, and planning for all of them is exhausting.
Trying to stop thinking about it. Pushing a thought away often makes it return. Giving it a time and a place tends to work better.
Expecting the discomfort to disappear. The aim is to carry it more lightly, not to feel nothing.
Pause and name it: "I don't know yet, and that's uncomfortable."
Write two lists: what you know and what you are guessing.
Identify the next known moment, when you will realistically learn more.
Choose one small, useful action for now and one "if, then" plan for later.
Return to something absorbing until that moment, and notice when you start checking again.
Yes. Most people find uncertainty uncomfortable to some degree. It becomes a problem mainly when it takes up a lot of time, drives constant checking or stops you from doing things that matter to you.
Some preparation is useful. The difference is whether the thinking leads to a specific action. If you have gone over the same scenario several times without a new step emerging, it has probably turned into worry rather than planning.
There is no fixed timeline. People often notice small changes after a few weeks of practising the habits above in low-stakes situations, but this varies a great deal.
The same habits apply, but take practical steps first: book the appointment, ask your doctor what the next step and timeline are, and write down your questions. Clear information, where you can get it, reduces a lot of guessing.
If worry about the future seriously affects your sleep, work or relationships, or you have thoughts of harming yourself, speak to a doctor or a licensed mental health professional. In the US you can call or text 988; in the UK you can call Samaritans on 116 123.
You will not get rid of uncertainty, and you do not need to. What you can change is how much of your day it takes. The next time your train stops between stations, or an email says "more details soon", try the two lists and name the next known moment. Then let the woman with the crossword be your model for a few minutes.
If you would like a structured way to work through an uncertain moment, unLooper, an iPhone app made by the publisher of this site, includes a feature called the Overthinking Breaker. It is a short guided session of about three minutes: you capture the thought, separate fact from fear, look for other angles and pick one small next step.
It is completely optional, and it is a self-reflection tool, not therapy. Everything on this page works with a pen and paper. If a guided version suits you, you can find unLooper on the App Store.
Carleton, R. N. (2016). Fear of the unknown: One fear to rule them all? Journal of Anxiety Disorders. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.janxdis.2016.03.011
Borkovec, T. D., Robinson, E., Pruzinsky, T., & DePree, J. A. (1983). Preliminary exploration of worry: Some characteristics and processes. Behaviour Research and Therapy. https://doi.org/10.1016/0005-7967(83)90121-3
Watkins, E. R. (2008). Constructive and unconstructive repetitive thought. Psychological Bulletin. https://doi.org/10.1037/0033-2909.134.2.163
Gollwitzer, P. M. (1999). Implementation intentions: Strong effects of simple plans. American Psychologist. https://doi.org/10.1037/0003-066X.54.7.493
NHS Every Mind Matters. Tackling your worries. https://www.nhs.uk/every-mind-matters/mental-wellbeing-tips/self-help-cbt-techniques/tackling-your-worries/