Has Worrying Ever Changed the Outcome?
I used to worry myself sick about everything. It wasn’t until I started therapy—after one long session where I poured out all my fears about my dad’s cancer and watching my kids struggle through different stages of life—that something shifted. My therapist paused, then asked me a simple question: “Has worrying ever changed the outcome?” I sat with it for a moment and realized the honest answer was no.
Not once has my worrying ever stopped something from happening. I used to tell myself that worrying meant I was being productive—that I was staying ahead of things, preparing for what could go wrong. It gave me a false sense of control, like I was somehow being responsible enough to influence the outcome.
But as I sat with that question and started working through the things I was holding onto, I saw it more clearly. Worrying wasn’t helping—it was pulling me out of the present and dropping me into a future that hadn’t happened yet, or at the very least; a past I couldn’t change. It drained me. It took my energy, my focus, and my peace.
And the hardest truth? Most of what I do worry about never even happens. All I’m doing is rehearsing problems that don’t exist, carrying situations that aren’t mine to control and living in “what if” instead of “what is.” It’s exhausting.
I used to believe that worrying about my kids was just part of being a good mom; like it was some kind of rite of passage to live in a constant state of concern. If they were traveling or driving late at night, I’d lie awake staring at my phone, waiting for that text: “I’m here” or “I’m safe.” And half the time? They had already arrived—they were just busy jumping into their lives. They didn’t actually owe me that immediate reassurance, even though I felt like I needed it.
And texting? That can make it even worse. It’s so easy to read into a message, imagine a tone that isn’t there, and suddenly convince yourself something is wrong.
One of the most helpful things my therapist taught me is this: there’s a difference between thinking and worrying.
Thinking asks: What can I do about this right now?
Worrying asks: What if something goes wrong? What if I’m not ready?
Thinking moves you forward.
Worrying just keeps you stuck, going in circles.
So, I’ve started asking myself a simple question when I catch my mind running: Is there something I can do about this right now?
If the answer is yes—then do it. Even a small step.
If the answer is no—then worrying about it isn’t helping. It’s just keeping me stuck.
That doesn’t mean it’s easy to stop. Worry can feel like a habit, even a comfort in a strange way. It tricks us into believing we’re doing something useful. But we’re not, we’re just tiring ourselves out.
Maybe the goal isn’t to never worry again. That’s unrealistic.
Maybe the goal is to notice it sooner… and choose differently.
To come back to the present and focus on what’s actually in front of us.
AND the most important thing I have learned? Let go of the need to control everything that hasn’t happened yet. Because at the end of the day…worrying doesn’t protect us from tomorrow, it just takes away from today.
I’ve started to understand something I couldn’t see before my worry isn’t protecting anyone… it’s just exhausting me.
Stop believing that your fear has the power to change reality.
Because at the end of the day, worrying never changed the outcome.
But learning to let go of it?
That’s changed everything for me.
The Other Side of Nice 