Has someone ever said something to you that made you stop in your tracks? Because you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that what they said is right. And you just know that the words you just heard will change your life.

That happened to me recently. For weeks, the stress of getting out of the house in the morning was rising. I felt the clenching of my jaw. The tension in my shoulders, which for me get moved upward and remain static in a shrug position until I catch on and take a moment to breathe and release. The uncomfortable heaviness in the chest. This is how I experience stress and frustration.

My mornings start early. I’ve got lunches to make, two kids to clothe, a cat to care for, bags to pack, breakfast to make and serve, all before I get myself ready to get out the door. There are two separate drop off destinations for my children. Navigating through Long Island morning school traffic is usually enough in itself to cause stress. Doing so while trying to get the three of us where we need to be, safely and timely, it’s been causing some friction for me. I found myself rushing and snapping and feeling agitated. Getting cut off by rude and reckless drivers just about every single morning adds to it. To be fair, I’ve let it happen. I chose that reaction. I could have chosen a different reaction.

As a dad, I do my best not to show that side to my kids too often. They don’t need it and they certainly don’t deserve it. I do my best to practice gratitude because I’ve been blessed in so many ways. But I am human and make mistakes. Over the past month, I’ve made more than I care to admit. I’ve outwardly displayed frustration, been snippy, felt rushed (and made others feel rushed) and said one or two things out loud that I wished I hadn’t. Kids see and hear it all.

One recent sunny morning, I had just dropped my daughter off at day care and was ready to take my son to his preschool. Just as I pulled out of the drive, I apologized to him for being impatient. He didn’t do anything wrong. In his little voice, which is filled with the wisdom of a child who lives life right, he sweetly and patiently said “Maybe you have a bad germ in you”. Brake. Car in park. Say that again please buddy. He did. I asked him why he said it and he replied “because you’re always frustrated in the morning time”. With that, my life changed. Immediately, the stress of the mornings was put into perspective and I knew right there how to handle it. And it’s not just morning time stress, it can be any stressor at any time of day.

I knew what he said was right. Unequivocally. I wanted him to repeat it because it was simple and brilliant. Truly brilliant. I needed to hear it again because I was enlightened. Here I am, a 40-something who successfully coaches people on personal development. I wrote an eBook on self-improvement. When I needed a hand with a problem, it wasn’t my experience or an experienced, expensive coach that came through. It was my 4-year old son. I love how it all happened! I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’ve long said that kids live life right. They know happy. They know joy. They know play and they spend almost all of their time doing things they love to do. That’s the way to do it. My son and other kids his age- they don’t know complicated. They know fun and free. And now, every time I find myself stressing about something that isn’t worthy of the effort, I say to myself “I have a bad germ in me”. Then, I visualize the germ being quickly eradicated from me. I smile. Then get on with my day. I haven’t felt an ounce of that stress since. My mornings are so much more enjoyable. I'm showing the good stuff again. It literally changed my life and how I view stressors. It works. Like magic!

“Beware lest in your anxiety to avoid war you obtain a master”. Demosthenes

“I can’t go tonight. I am working overtime tomorrow”. The disappointment in my friend’s voice on the other end of the line was evident. It won’t be as much fun without you. Next time.

His tone revealed that I let him down. I knew I wasn’t going to work overtime tomorrow. So why did I “back out” on my friends yet again? I didn’t have an answer. I let myself down too.

Contained in my youth were a number of similar instances. Those who don’t know any better would call it lying. I won’t argue, rather will add the full perspective.

While I understand that view, I see it differently. Holistically. Lying implies being deceitful. That was not what l was trying to be. My intent was solely to avoid another rumble with anxiety. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it at the time. That came several years later when, in desperate need of an answer to the anxiety overtaking me, I simultaneously began studying counseling theory in college and seeing a therapist. Everything began to make sense. The fog of confusion lifted and was replaced with the bright shine of clarity.

I grew up much differently than my friends. Most enjoyed stable homes with both parents home each night for dinner. They took vacations to happy places and when they got a little older, did things like walking fifteen fun –filled minutes down the road with a group of pals to catch an afternoon matinee. Teenagers expect to be able to do things like this. At least my generation that grew up in the 1980’s did. But when your biological father is the deadly leader of a violent and sinister motorcycle gang, you don’t have the same childhood as your friends. You just don’t.

Making excuses was commonplace for my mother during my childhood. It took me a while to understand why but when I became a parent myself the answer hit me in the gut with the force of a hulking linebacker. You do what you have to do to protect your family, especially your children.

My biological father had physically attacked her on a number of occasions, including pushing her down to the asphalt and breaking her arm when she was 9-months pregnant with me. It’s understandable that I let anxiety run rampant for a couple of decades.

No doubt I experienced it in the womb- feeling the jolt of the ground, being bathed with stress hormones as they flooded the space that was supposed to be my place of nourishment. Hearing the drumroll of the racing heartbeat that accompanies panic. By the time I made my way into this world, I knew anxiety on a level that no kid should ever have to know. Kids deserve better.

One day, after another argument, he made an ominous threat to my mother. It was straightforward enough: ‘You better hold those kids close because if you let them out of your sight, they’ll be gone”. That’s enough to make any parent get into overprotective mode. Or engage in criminal activity. Fortunately, my mother did not resort to the latter. But what she did do was keep me close to home. All. The. Time.

I didn’t get to experience those memories made at matinee movies like my older brother and friends. Being three years younger and far more emotionally sensitive, I learned in my formative years that making excuses to avoid situations and staying close to home keep you safe. Physically and mentally. And so those lessons learned in the tender toddler years became ingrained. It was what I knew.

Going back to the phone call with my friend, I was not trying to lie or disappoint. I was trying to keep myself comfortable. After a lifetime of staying close to home, that was where I felt safe. I went out countless times with my friends, far more than not. My memories are crammed with late nights singing Karaoke, enjoying being young and driving home in the blue of dawn. And lots of laughing. Some chose to remember the times I wasn’t there and have forever tied me to it. Because of anxiety, I lost a few friends. By choice.

The guys who couldn’t differentiate between a lie and a legitimate reason, who kept bringing up the past, who wanted to be seen for the changed men they had become but were not willing to reciprocate. I decided I was not going to let their weight cuff me to the past one day longer. I had to make changes.

I took quiet time for deep self-reflection, identified behaviors I wanted to change, replayed the things I had seen as a kid and saw similarities in what I was doing and what my mother had to do. I then started out to become a new me.

These are gifts that anxiety gave me—the ability to look within, be authentic in my actions, take responsibility for my missteps and use it all to make myself better than before.

How did I make myself better? Anxiety attacks struck for nearly twenty years, including multiple times each day for over a year. My head and limbs would tingle incessantly. I’d wake in the dark of night trembling in terror, soaked in sweat. The force of the anxious energy would cause nausea and vomiting.

Since those nervous nights, I have not had one in nearly five years. Because I know where it comes from, anxiety no longer elicits a fear based response. Uncovering its origin changed my life. It’s like discovering the boogey man is not real. Once you do, the fear is erased forever.

Instead of suppressing my dreams, I pursue with great joy my authentic calling—writing (note- I believe anxiety can be triggered when one does not pursue their dreams and instead lives a life incongruent with who they are truly meant to be). I used to be underpaid and undervalued by any definition and had no vision for my life’s direction. Since then, I doubled my income, have a clear vision of the husband, father and man that I am and want to be. I’ve reinvented myself and achieved wonderful things that were once distant dreams.

I have freed myself from the heaviness that restrained my upward momentum. Changing the perceptions of others isn’t important anymore. Choosing not to surround myself with unsupportive people was inspiring and invigorating. I’ve got amazing things to enjoy and focus on and that is where I put my energy.

If anxiety is holding you back, you can do the same. Take time alone with your thoughts, map out your past, write in a journal, talk with a relative about missing pieces of family history or speak with a mental health professional. These are just some of the things you can do today to start gaining insight. Once you become aware of where your anxiety comes from, you have the power to set expectations and make informed decisions that will literally change your life.

Fortunately, the friend on the other end of the telephone line is still that today. A damn good friend. You may have lost friends, family or a job due to anxiety. Accept it and be appreciative of what was. Regretting the past will not serve you well. Use your time productively. Make a conscious effort to see the whole person and not just a skewed portion of that person.

If you’ve struggled with anxiety for any length of time, dive in and find out where it is coming from. I can tell you from experience, you’ll be glad you did. And chances are, you just may reinvent yourself along the way.