The "WORRY" Gene - Stop Worrying and Start Living!

I’ve always been aware, sometimes too aware. I notice everything around me, even when I’m not trying to. It’s ironic, really, because one of my mom’s favorite stories about me is how absent-minded I was as a child. She loves to recall the time when, at three years old, I was so distracted that she took me to a therapist to see if something was wrong. After a psychometric test, the therapist reassured her not to worry.

That’s the funny part: she worried anyway. And so do I.

If there’s one trait I wish I could tweak, it’s my tendency to worry. I call it my “worry gene.” One of my former supervisors coined the term when he told me, “You have the worry gene. You worry about everything, and 90% of the time, what you worry about never happens. The other 10%? There’s usually a solution.” 

Upside of Worry

To be fair, there’s a hidden strength in this trait. People like us—professional worriers—tend to be organized, thoughtful, dependable, and tuned in to others’ needs. We’re planners, problem-solvers, and caretakers. These are qualities that make us valuable colleagues, friends, and family members.

But like most double-edged swords, worry can also wound the wielder. Over the years, the constant striving to be the perfect student, employee, and person took a toll on my body, mind, and spirit. I eventually realized that chasing perfection is like running a marathon on a treadmill, the finish line keeps moving, and you never truly arrive.

When “Perfect” Becomes the Problem

Perfection is a moving target. What seems ideal today may look flawed tomorrow. There will always be someone who does it better, faster, or with more ease. And life, beautifully unpredictable as it is, has a way of wrecking even the best-laid plans.

When we cling too tightly to control, we lose sight of joy. Worse, we might unintentionally dampen the joy of others by making them feel guilty for simply enjoying life as it is.

Learning to Let Go (A Little)

So how do you keep the gifts of the worry gene while softening its grip? I’m learning, slowly but surely. These are a few of the practices that help me find balance:

• Manage what you can control. I try to direct my awareness inward—to my thoughts and actions, instead of fighting external chaos.
• Pause before reacting. When I feel triggered, I remind myself to go with the flow and avoid spinning a dramatic “mental story.” Asking whether something was intentional helps me not take things personally.
• Feel, then move on. I give myself permission to feel frustration but not to live in it. I still plan and prepare, but I no longer let outcomes dictate my happiness.
• Be present and gentle. I let my family enjoy life their way, resist the urge to overplan, and embrace silence. I’m learning that example speaks louder than advice.

Gratitude in the Imperfection

I’m still a work in progress, far from mastering this art of joyful imperfection. But I’m grateful to God and the universe for nudging me toward awareness before it’s too late.

If you, too, carry the worry gene, I hope you’ll give yourself permission to let go, even a little. The world won’t fall apart. In fact, it might just open up to you in ways you never imagined.

Stop worrying. Start living.