If you’ve ever said, “I just want my anxiety to go away,” you’re not alone.

But here’s the paradox — hating your anxiety often keeps it alive longer.

Because when you start seeing anxiety as an evil villain in your mind, your body believes the story.

It reacts as if there really is a villain — heart racing, muscles tensing, adrenaline pumping.

Your body doesn’t know the difference between a tiger and a thought.

So when you go to war with your anxiety, your nervous system gears up for battle too.

You end up fighting yourself.

Why Are We Villainizing the Thing Trying to Protect Us?

Anxiety’s job isn’t destruction — it’s protection.

It’s just… not very good at its job.

Think of it like an overprotective friend who follows you around with pepper spray because they once saw a scary movie.

Their heart is in the right place, but their execution is exhausting.

When we treat anxiety like a monster, we activate the very fear response we’re trying to calm.

But if we approach it with curiosity — “What are you trying to tell me?” — something amazing happens: our body gets the memo that we’re safe.

And a safe body listens better than a scared one.

The Two-Year-Old Analogy

Imagine your anxiety as a toddler tugging at your sleeve:

“Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong!”

You could snap, “Stop it, you’re being ridiculous!” — but that toddler just cries louder.

Or you could get down to their level and say, “You’re scared, huh? Tell me about it.”

That’s when the nervous system starts to settle.

Because you’ve replaced resistance with recognition.

Your anxiety isn’t soothed by logic; it’s soothed by safety.

What Happens If We Listen to It?

If you fight your anxiety, it fights back louder.

But if you listen to it, it starts to listen to you.

This doesn’t mean agreeing with every intrusive thought — it means creating a dialogue instead of a dictatorship.

You’re teaching your mind that it can trust you to keep it safe — not the other way around.

Try This Next Time

When anxiety shows up, try this:

Pause. Notice your body before your thoughts.

Name it. “This is anxiety, not danger.”

Validate it. “You’re trying to protect me — thank you.”

Reassure it. “We’re safe right now.”

Every time you respond with gentleness, you’re reprogramming your nervous system to stand down.

Final Thought

Maybe your anxiety isn’t a villain.

Maybe it’s a bodyguard who got the wrong memo.

And like any overprotective friend, it doesn’t need punishment — it needs patience.

Because when you stop treating your mind like the battlefield and start treating it like the home you live in,
your anxiety learns to stop banging on the walls.

Healing doesn’t come from fighting your mind — it comes from understanding it.