I’m Mad as Hell and I’m Not Letting Fear Run my Life Anymore

Do things differently.

The Review

As part of my review of last year, I started thinking about the one thing I regret most. That sent me into a small emotional tailspin — because once you open the door to regret, all the others come marching in like they’ve been waiting for the cue. Not pretty.

The Pattern

One pattern jumped out immediately:
Every regret I had was an action I didn’t take.
Classes I didn’t sign up for. Trips I didn’t go on. Situations where I let fear yell louder than desire.

And honestly? I’m done with that.
Cue the line from Network:
“I’m mad as hell and I’m NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE!”

I am tired of letting my lizard brain — fear — run the whole show.

The Shift

If I want things to be different, I have to do things differently.

What does “different” look like?

Photo by Preillumination SeTh on Unsplash

Well, last Monday night it looked like salsa dancing.

For years, I wanted to take dance lessons, but my husband didn’t wanted to go.
Now I don’t have a husband… and I can do what I want.
So I signed up for salsa and put “first class” on my calendar.

And then I went.
By myself.

To be completely honest (and why wouldn’t I be?), my heart was pounding so loudly I wasn’t sure I’d hear the music. To manage the nerves, I started chatting with the people standing in line with me — in the pouring rain, I might add.
(A line! On a Monday night! In the dark! In a storm! People are fascinating.)

I met a sweet young couple and stuck to them like glue.

Once inside, we lined up single file, so no one could tell I was there alone. Then we paired off and rotated partners. It was shockingly easy — a new partner appeared every few minutes like a dancing conveyor belt.

And in two and a half hours, I only stepped on three feet.
Not bad for night one.

The Lesson

Here’s the part that surprised me:
Afterward, I felt brave.

Not because I went to a dance class by myself.
But because I didn’t let the fear of going stop me.

I drowned out the negative voice in my head by filling it with the chatter of meeting new people. I focused on talking to others, not my own nerves. I took action. I had fun. And afterwards, I slept like a baby.

If you’ve been letting your fear-lizard run your life, go ahead and turn him into a pair of shoes.

The Truth

Here’s the truth:
You don’t want to be on your deathbed thinking about the life you didn’t live — all because fear had the final say.

When I listed my regrets this year — all the places I’d let fear, other people’s opinions, or someone else’s comfort take the wheel — I was pissed. At myself. For shrinking. For not standing up for what I wanted.

And now I see how easily that pattern passes itself along.

Generational Shift

When one of my kids says they want to try something new, I sometimes hear my mother’s old fear-voice slide right out of my mouth. Madde said she wanted to play ice hockey and my immediate response was, “Oh, you’ll lose your teeth.”
(Hello? Mouth guard Anyone?)

I learned from a Master Parade Rainer — my mother — and I’m determined to unlearn it.

These days I focus on a growth mindset. I add “yet” to the end of my sentences. And when fear tries to flare up, I respond with curiosity instead of panic. My kids call me out when I slip. I tell them I was brainwashed as a child; they tell me to change the soap.

So here are my intentions for 2026:
Do things differently. Choose growth instead of fear. Take action instead of collecting regrets.

Fear will always show up — that’s its job.
But it doesn’t have to run my life.

When fear rears its fire-breathing head, meet it with loving kindness. And then do the thing anyway.

It makes all the difference.

Tarot Pull

The Lovers Reversed

The Lovers

This card is shockingly appropriate. The Lovers reversed is about self-abandonment, which is all the regrets I revealed at the beginning. It’s about choosing fear over desire and betraying myself without realizing it. It’s about being aware of the patterns of letting others drive my life and choosing a different path. This card reflects the internalized voice of a parent in the reversed, and now I am breaking that cycle.