The Day the Fear Lost Its Grip

Day 14 — December 7, 2025

Today was different in a way I can’t neatly explain.

I woke up with the same fear and dread that’s been living under my skin for a year. That familiar, heavy, predictable creature. But it didn’t knock me down this time. It didn’t send me back under the blanket with Roger curled into my stomach like a furry shield.

It didn’t make me cry. Mind-blowing, truly.

The fear was there. But for the first time, it didn’t get a reaction out of me.

It sat in the corner.
I noticed it.
And then I went on with my day.

There were no theatrics. Not from the fear, and not from me.

What surprised me more was the spark inside me. The one I’ve been feeling for weeks now. That flicker, that pulse, that tiny rebellious flame that keeps showing up uninvited.

Today it felt stronger. Steadier. Almost rhythmic.

Like it’s no longer a spark but part of my internal wiring now.
Like my system updated overnight and installed a new operating mode called Do Not Bow.

And maybe it’s fueling the quiet fury that’s been building in me. A fury not directed outward, not messy or destructive, but inward and foundational, like my entire being is rising in slow motion and fear can only watch.

But I refused to linger on that feeling too long.
Too easy to fall into spiral-town if I stare directly at it.

Not today. Not this version of me.

Instead, I worked on the Wild Poise website all day. And night. Not because it needed anything. It was finished on Friday. It went live…my journal, my voice, my entire becoming, all of it out in the open, breathing in public for the first time.

It’s terrifying. And somehow, today, that terror didn’t matter either.

Being myself fully, unapologetically, messily, brightly didn’t send my nervous system into exile.

It didn’t shrink me. It didn’t choke me. It didn’t even make me pause.

I spent hours making microscopic design changes no one but me will ever notice. Colors, spacing, fonts. I rearranged them all until the rainbow itself would’ve quit out of sheer exhaustion.

And in the end, I kept Wild Poise simple. Calm. Inviting. Raw.

Uncomfortably real.

Because that’s what I am becoming.
And that’s where the real things happen.

Fear should be scared.

Not because I’m fearless. I’m absolutely not.
The fear is still here. It’s still heavy. It still knows my name and address and schedule.

But today, it had no mouth. No command. No pull. No power to shape the way I moved through my day.

I moved anyway. Forward. Steady. Unapologetic.

Driven by something older and deeper and fiercer than fear will ever be.

Today was a day. Not victorious. Not emotional. Not dramatic. Just quiet. Focused. Strangely energized.

And under all of that — a simmering certainty I haven’t felt before:

I am becoming someone fear should be very careful with.

Chaos in one hand.
Grace in the other.
And a spark under my ribs that refuses to go out.