Let’s talk about worrying.

But before we dive in, I’ve got a little gift for you: a book recommendation that could shift your perspective entirely.

If you haven’t yet read The Courage to Be Disliked, consider this your sign. It’s an engaging and surprisingly easy read, written as a dialogue between an unhappy youth and a philosopher. Since I care about you, my beloved reader, let me warn you upfront: this philosopher will challenge you. Expect moments of deep disagreement, maybe even outright rage at some of his ideas. But stick with it. With patience, you’ll find yourself nodding along more often than not, possibly even having a few lightbulb moments.

Now, let’s get back to worrying.

Worrying is what happens when your mind starts time-traveling into the future—and instead of planning a fabulous holiday, it goes full Hitchcock, crafting worst-case scenarios with alarming detail. This, my friend, is how we take our incredible superpower of imagination and misuse it to scare the living daylights out of ourselves.

“Ah, but worrying helps us survive!” some might argue. “If I can predict danger, I can prepare for it!”

To which I gently (but firmly) say: Yes, but what danger?

Here’s a challenge for the next time you catch your mind spiralling in the worry vortex. Pause. Take a breath. Then ask yourself:

What are the odds of this scenario actually happening?

Am I really going to die?

Am I really going to lose my home and end up homeless?

Am I really going to prison?

Am I really going to starve?

Am I really going to live alone forever?

If you’re tempted to answer “Yes,” stop and ask again. This time, be stricter: “Really? REALLY?”

Nine times out of ten, your worry will crumble under the weight of that second interrogation. Your inner voice will sheepishly admit, “Well…not really, but…”

And there it is—the crack in the armour. That “but” is your ticket out of the spiral. It’s your proof that most worries aren’t premonitions; they’re overblown stories your mind tells when it’s trying to fill in blanks about the future. And like any story, they can be rewritten.

So, the next time your brain hires itself out as a horror screenwriter, take back creative control. Remember: you hold the pen.

And while we’re talking about rethinking the stories we tell ourselves, here are two more books that I think pair beautifully with The Courage to Be Disliked:

Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway by Susan Jeffers—a guide to breaking free from the paralysis of fear and embracing life with confidence.

The Lies We Tell Ourselves by Jon Frederickson—an unflinchingly honest look at how we sabotage ourselves with false beliefs and how to stop.

Because worrying less isn’t just about calming the mind; it’s about living boldly. And you, my dear reader, deserve nothing less.