If Anxiety Were a Person

If anxiety were a person, he’d be the guy who always has something to say, but never has a solution.

He’d sit next to you at the edge of the big moment—

Right before the pitch.

Right before the call.

Right before you said yes to something that scares you a little and excites you a lot.

He wouldn’t scream.

He’d whisper:

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Maybe wait a little longer.”

“What if you mess this up?”

And then he’d pull out his favorite tricks:

He’d call himself perfectionism, and convince you not to start until everything is flawless.

He’d pose as overthinking, replaying every possible outcome until your confidence cracks.

He’d dress up as procrastination, convincing you to wait until Monday, or next month, or “after things settle down.”

And his best disguise? Imposter syndrome—convincing you that there is no way in hell you belong where you are.

Anxiety doesn’t make a scene.

He sabotages quietly.

He constantly manipulates.

And his goal is simple:

Keep you safe and comfortable.

In other words, unfulfilled.

“Safe” never launched the business.

“Comfortable” never looked for a new job.

Neither of them changed the world.

Or more important, never changed their world.

Here’s the truth:

Anxiety only shows up when you’re close to something that matters.

He’s not a stop sign—he’s a spotlight.

A signal that you’re playing in the right arena.

So the next time he takes the seat beside you, let him talk. Listen even.

And then do it anyway.