Where does it come from?
As a woman, have you ever hesitated to try something, simply because you weren’t sure you could pull it off?
I have. And I’ve lost count of how many brilliant women I’ve worked with who feel exactly the same.
This fear of failure, often quiet but very real, is not a matter of personality. It has a history. It crept into us—women—very early on.
- When we were praised for our wisdom rather than our audacity.
- When we were politely – but firmly – corrected for an oversight that we would have considered “normal” in a boy.
- When we were taught to do well, rather than try.
Over time, we began to tie our worth to our ability to avoid mistakes. And that’s a poison to ambition.
What I want to share with you here is what the research says, but also what I see in the field: women are no less daring. They’re just often less allowed to fail. And until we look this mechanism in the eye, it will keep holding back careers, potential, and freedom.
Research proves it: fear of failure hits girls harder 😨
Far from being an impression, this reality has been massively documented.
PISA 2018 data, collected from over 400,000 teenagers in 63 countries, shows that 15-year-old girls report a significantly higher fear of failure than boys.
They are more likely to avoid situations where they might make a mistake, and this anxiety has a direct impact on their psychological well-being and commitment to school.
A striking paradox emerges: the more advanced a country is in terms of equality, the wider the gap.
Why is this? Because in places where girls are supposed to have “every opportunity,” failure becomes even more stigmatizing. “You have all the keys—don’t mess it up.”
The implicit pressure rises. So does the fear of falling short.
Researchers Eriksson and Strimling (2023) speak of a cumulative effect: high expectations, combined with rigid social norms, reinforce this fear in girls, even in favorable contexts.
This is far from a question of personal willpower: we’re talking about structural conditions that take effect from adolescence onwards.
Early conditioning: educating girls in p.e.r.f.e.c.t.i.o.n.
Behind this early fear of failure lies a phenomenon well known in developmental psychology: gender-differentiated attribution bias.
➡️ The girls are congratulated for their behavior and precision;
➡️ The boys, for their initiative and courage.
When a girl succeeds, she is often told “You’re very intelligent”. When she fails: “You don’t have the skills”. This sets up a pernicious logic: performance becomes an indicator of personal worth.
According to Carol Dweck, this feeds what she calls a fixed mindset ( where mistakes become proof of identity failure, rather than an opportunity to learn.
The consequences are manifold: perfectionism, fear of criticism, self-censorship and anxious procrastination.
Studies show that girls censor themselves as early as middle school: they don’t dare raise their hand if they’re not sure of their answer.
Boys, on the other hand, test, dare, make mistakes and learn.
In adulthood: judged more harshly, awaited with bated breath
You’d think that when you grow up, you’d grow out of it.
That once we’re grown-up, qualified and competent, we’re all on an equal footing. But we’re not. This fear of failure, nurtured since childhood, is transformed. It becomes more subtle, more insidious… but always present.
In many workplaces, women constantly have to prove they belong.
They are expected to be efficient, diplomatic, inspiring… without ever being a nuisance.
➡️ A man who screws up? He took a risk.
➡️ A woman? She overestimated herself.
This is exactly what the Role Congruity Theory women are judged on both their performance and their conformity to gender expectations. Not too assertive, but not too soft. Not too directive, but not too fuzzy. And if you step out of line? You pay. Double.
[If you’ve attended my workshops on strengthening women’s leadership, you already know all this…😊]
Even at university, it starts early.
Claudia Goldin found that when a female student scores a 4 instead of a 5 (on a 6-point scale), she’s far more likely than a male student to switch majors. Not because she’s incapable, but because she takes that grade as proof she doesn’t belong. It’s not a failure—it’s an identity alarm bell.
So yes, we’re making progress. But not on equal terms.
Because we weren’t prepared for failure.
We were prepared to avoid it.
Changing the game: what we can do in concrete terms
This conditioning is not inevitable. Once we see it, we can dismantle it. And it starts with our everyday actions. Because no, it’s not “just in your head”. It’s in the words we use. The expectations we set. The looks we give. In our actions.
So what can we do? Can we change our culture, so deeply imprinted on our collective unconscious?
In private life:
- Stop congratulating only perfect results, and start valuing effort, daring and progress: “You’ve taken the plunge”, “You’ve persevered”, “You’ve dared to try something new”, etc .
- Normalize mistakes. Don’t erase them—make them a step, not a shame.
- Make it clear: “It’s not about your skill level. It’s about learning. And you are learning.”
At work:
- Watch your judgment: would you react the same way if it were a man?
- Create feedback spaces where imperfection is allowed—where learning is the goal.
- Encourage the sharing of mistakes and honest feedback, without disqualification or shame
There’s no need to pamper.
But we need towiden the margin of error for everyone. Otherwise, we’ll continue to reward the most confident, not the most competent.
And what about the gentlemen?
We can’t change things between women. Not alone.
Because these mechanisms – implicit judgments, asymmetrical expectations, double standards – are not “girls’ stories”. They are collective norms. And they don’t reverse themselves in a vacuum.
Men, dads, lovers, spouses, teachers, coaches,…. have a super-important role to play.
Not to “save” or “support” women, but to dare to question themselves, to set an example, and to “save” them.
- Noticing their own biases
- Listening without defensiveness
- Asking questions, and
- Correcting course when needed.
In contexts and situations as diverse as :
- Job interviews
- Feedback sessions
- Meetings (where a woman’s idea is often ignored—until repeated by a man and applauded)
Gentlemen, the above is an invitation to participate in the development of our humanity, and is certainly not an accusation. You can’t know what you don’t know…
Because when people become conscious allies, everyone wins.
Taking back the right to make mistakes
You weren’t born with a fear of failure. You learned it.
And often, you learned it very early on, especially if you’re a girl.
But nothing is set in stone. You can deconstruct this conditioning. First by naming it. Then by confronting it. And above all, by allowing yourself – really allowing yourself – to learn. To test. To make mistakes. To start again.
I’m not saying it’s easy. But I do know one thing: the more you dare to talk about what holds you back, the more you free up what drives you.
So if you recognize yourself in these lines, remember:
You’re not alone.
You’re not fragile.
And you don’t have to be perfect to be legitimate.
You have the right to try. And even to fail. That’s how we move forward.
