Why Do I Dread All the Plans I Make?

I know the feeling well. You probably do, too. I’ve made plans to go out, but as the clock ticks down, suddenly, I want to cancel. The thought of walking out the door, facing the big, loud noises of New York, navigating through throngs of fellow subway commuters only to squish into a teeming restaurant and shout over the din only to make small talk just doesn’t feel appealing. Actually, it fills me with minor dread.

As a Gen Zer, I can’t say I’m unique. We are a generation who grew up on the acceptability of cancelling and being canceled on. The American Survey Center reports that 55 percent of Gen Zers feel a sense of relief when plans are cancelled; the Institute of Practitioners in Advertising in the U.K. published research highlighting that 68 percent of those under 34 have flaked on their plans, with 10 percent doing it “very often.”

Perhaps that explains why, after I had planned a (homemade!) ice cream party for 20 people, only three showed up. No one else deigned to send me a “can’t make it” text. PureWow’s Associate Social Strategist Rachel Schleider (age 23) recounts experiences even worse than mine. “Every time I make plans with anyone I just always have to keep it in the back of my head that it’s probably not going to happen,” she told me. “I literally dread making plans for my birthday every year because I know people are going to cancel the day before.”

Indeed, the idea of “protecting your peace” has become wildly popular, but, as Schleider notes (and I agree): “We've kind of taken it too far and now people are way too comfortable bowing out.”

Are you, too, dreading all the plans you make? Well the good news is, there’s a name for this—and it’s totally, completely surmountable.

According to Dr. Mindy DeSeta, LMHC, the dread that fills you in the hours leading up to your social plans is called “anticipatory anxiety.”

“It’s the stress we feel before something happens,” she explains. “Home is where our nervous system rests. It is where we feel the safest. We’re in control; we know what to expect and no one is watching. Walking through the doorway is the visual trigger that separates your safe space from the unknown.”

Think of it as similar to the way your heart starts to beat wildly before you have to give a public speech or walk into an important meeting. The lead-up is horrible. Right before I had to play the piano for my elementary school talent show (which was a train wreck for other reasons), I thought my heart was going to punch itself out of my ribcage. The anticipation of going on stage felt like it was going to kill me. But that’s where Dr. DeSeta comes in with this advice: “In most cases, the anticipation anxiety is often worse than the event itself. Don’t allow the jitters to deter you!”

Personally, panic often induces me to make a snap decision—call off the dinner reservation, fake a headache. And while those feelings are important, Dr. DeSeta cautions against letting anxious thoughts have the final say. She recommends doing the following when you feel the dread coming on:

• Name what is happening—anticipatory anxiety.
• Remind yourself “this feeling does not mean I should cancel.”
• Take some deep breaths. Dr. DeSeta recommends trying a breathwork exercise to help calm your mind and body.
• Remind yourself that the anxiousness signals that something is important to you, and that creates nervousness.
• Set an alarm. You’re free to bed rot, but when it goes off, pull yourself into the shower and get dressed. You’ll feel better once you walk out the door.

Of course, some days the burnout is real, you’re actually sick or about to fall over from exhaustion. In those instances, take care of yourself. But don’t just cop out, for the sake of your friends and the sake of yourself.

After all, in a world rife with loneliness and overrun with AI agents, try to remember how gratifying it is that someone wants to see you, in the flesh and not a tiny corner of their computer screen. So before you hurriedly tap out “Sorry, can’t make it,” and get back to doom-scrolling, think about the way you’ll feel after you get home, having been with another human being, gossiping over a chocolate molten lava cake. That would get me out of bed, too.