I am a worrier, and have been for most of my life. At some point, someone dear and smart teased me that I worry about the wrong things. The things that hit me, she noted, were never the things I worried about. For a while that left me feeling like an incompetent worrier-until my research caught up. I realized that the things I worry about often don't end up hurting me precisely because worrying helps me diffuse them ahead of time.
There's something about walking into our childhood home that can make many of us feel like we're 13 again. We arrive as capable adults with our own lives, and 10 minutes later find ourselves defending choices we made years ago or falling into arguments we swore we would never have again. It can be hard to watch ourselves from the outside and think, I don't act like this anywhere else, so why do I do it here?