Once you're able to complete short trips with minimal safety preparations, fear often doesn't disappear immediately but rather "escalates." It starts making new demands: what if the distance is farther? What if it takes longer? What if you can't return home immediately? What if you're not familiar with the route? Thus, safety preparations return in a more subtle way. You might no longer frequently check your belongings, but you'll mentally rehearse your response to discomfort. You might appear to have brought nothing, but internally maintain a "ready to retreat" mindset. The key at this stage isn't to perform perfectly, but to recognize the escalating fear strategies. It's not reminding you of real risks, but testing whether you're still willing to let it dictate your actions. Increasing the difficulty doesn't require you to suddenly abandon all preparations, but rather to deliberately stop where you would normally take an extra step. For example, stop checking all exits beforehand, stop repeatedly confirming your physical condition before leaving, and stop setting a mandatory safe return time. You're practicing continuing with a bit of the unknown, not clearing the unknown before you start. You'll find that what truly tires you out isn't the trip itself, but the invisible mental battle of preparation before leaving. When you reduce this internal struggle, even longer journeys will feel easier. Upgrading difficulty doesn't equate to coercion, but rather shifts the focus from "Will I get into trouble?" to "Am I living my life?" You can allow worries to exist but no longer respond to them with preparation; you can go out with a racing heart but without defenses. Every time you complete a trip without extra preparation, your nervous system learns new lessons. I don't need so many safeguards to cope with fluctuations. Freedom is not the absence of fear, but rather that fear no longer determines how far you can go.