Why Is "the Other" So Scary And How To Get To Acceptance
One of the things I find most distressing is how we treat others. Yet, there’s a quiet fear many people carry—one that’s rarely spoken but often felt. It’s the fear of the other. The person who looks different, speaks differently, worships differently, or attracts a community that doesn’t resemble yours. In a world increasingly interconnected, this fear can surface more frequently, whether in the workplace, in neighborhood shifts, or even in spiritual spaces.
Sometimes it’s subtle. A tension in the body. A quick judgment. A vague discomfort. Sometimes it’s more overt—a dismissal, a refusal to engage, or even open hostility. The fear says: This person doesn’t look like me. They don’t talk like me. Their people aren’t mine. And then the kicker, Can I trust them?
This is becoming a default, overt action, to the point where there is real harm occurring. So I think one of the first things we must do, is stop and ask: Where does this fear really come from?
At its root, fear of the other is often fear of the unknown. It’s a reaction wired into our biology, but it’s been exaggerated by conditioning—social, cultural, and even spiritual conditioning that has taught us to seek safety in sameness. The illusion here is that sameness equals safety, truth, and goodness. But that simply isn’t so.
If sameness were the only way to truth or connection, we’d never grow. We’d never learn from new perspectives or be challenged to deepen our compassion. The universe itself thrives on diversity—from ecosystems to human souls. Every tree in the forest does not look the same, and yet the forest thrives through difference, not despite it.
Just because someone has a different look or a different kind of customer doesn’t make them a threat. It simply means they’ve walked a different path. Their audience may need something you don't offer—or can't offer—and that’s okay. Diversity of service is part of how healing, creativity, and insight reach everyone. One voice cannot speak to all ears. And one face cannot reflect every experience.
So how do we move beyond the fear?
It starts with curiosity over judgment. When you notice fear rising—when you catch yourself tightening up around someone different—pause and ask: What am I believing right now? Often, the ego will try to create a story: “They don’t belong,” “They’re not qualified,” “They’re trying to take something from me.” These stories are often more about our own insecurity than any real danger.
Instead of feeding the fear, feed your curiosity. Learn about that person. Listen to their story. Ask yourself: What if they’re bringing something into the world that I can learn from—or even support? Real connection starts with openness.
Second, practice de-centering your own experience without devaluing it. You don’t have to erase your identity, beliefs, or background to embrace someone else’s. But you do have to realize that your view is one of many, not the view. And someone else’s difference is not a threat to your truth—it’s an expansion of what’s possible.
Finally, remember that our shared humanity is always greater than our visible differences. Underneath language, skin color, customer base, or spiritual expression is a heart that wants the same core things: love, belonging, safety, and meaning. When you connect at that level, fear dissolves. Respect grows. And real bridges are built.
Getting beyond the fear of the other isn’t about becoming the same. It’s about honoring the truth that we can stand side by side, different and whole, and still be allies in creating a better world.
Reflection exercise: The next time you feel fear around someone who’s different—who attracts a different crowd, or walks a path unfamiliar to you—breathe. Open your heart a little wider. Ask questions. Listen more deeply. You may just find that the other is not so “other” after all.
