Little Monster, Big Anxiety
Morning Meltdown to Growth in Mayhem
When I woke up on concert day, I thought the hardest part would be choosing an outfit. Instead, my morning spiraled into panic attacks, sweaty hands, and one of the most emotional rollercoasters I’ve been on in a while. But by the end of the night, I was buzzing with adrenaline, laughter, and gratitude.
This wasn’t just a concert. It was a story about growth, perspective, and learning to thrive even when anxiety tries to take the wheel.
That morning, my phone buzzed with a text: the friend I was supposed to go with couldn’t make it. No explanation, just “sorry, you’ll have to find someone else.”
I lost it. I sobbed. My chest was tight, my hands were shaking, and my brain was screaming: How am I supposed to find someone last minute? The train leaves in 3 hours!
Panic attack city.
But then, bless her, another friend gave me a pep talk that shifted everything. “What if you went alone? What if it’s liberating?”
At first I laughed. Me? Do this alone? But once the tears dried and my breathing slowed, I thought… maybe she’s right. Maybe I can do this.
I was still sweaty, nauseous, and trembling, but I shoved my things into a bag, grabbed my trusty portable fan (motion-sickness lifesaver), and headed to the train station.
Of course, my anxiety had one more joke to play: there was zero parking at the station. I ended up basically in another zip code, hoofing it across the lot, muttering under my breath.
When I finally got inside, I stared at the train schedule like it was written in ancient Greek. Platforms? Timetables? Excuse me? Thankfully, a kind girl noticed my deer-in-headlights face and helped me figure it out (whoever you are, you’re an angel).
On the train, I sat down with my music and fan, determined to stay calm. But motion sickness hit hard. By the time we were one stop from Union Station, I was swallowing back vomit, praying I wouldn’t puke on the sweet elderly couple in front of me. Spoiler: I made it. Barely.
Here’s the thing: normally, I would’ve bolted through Union Station like a stressed-out squirrel, glued to Google Maps and sweating bullets. But this time, something made me pause.
I stopped in the middle of the chaos and looked up. The ceiling. The arches. The light streaming through the windows. I’d been there before, but I’d never seen it.
That moment, just standing there in awe of the architecture, felt like proof of my growth. Proof that even with anxiety humming in the background, I could still be present enough to notice beauty.
Of course, the pause didn’t magically give me a sense of direction. 😂 I had a 10-minute walk to my hotel… which turned into 15 because I aimlessly wandered up and down the same street multiple times. I swear I looked like a Sims character glitching out.
Eventually, I found my way and checked in, only to be upgraded to a room on the 25th floor with a harbour view. After the mess of a morning, this felt like the universe throwing me a bone. I stood there at the window, soaking in the skyline, and felt a wave of gratitude wash over me.
Instead of hiding in my room (which the “old me” absolutely would’ve done), I freshened up and took a walk down to the harbour.
The sounds; birds chirping, waves lapping, traffic horns in the distance, were strangely calming. The mix of chaos and peace mirrored what was going on inside me. It felt grounding, like proof that I was capable of finding little islands of calm, even in the busiest city.
Plot Twist: A Friend Joins!
Then came the text that made my day: another friend said she’d drive to Toronto and join me for the concert. I nearly cried (happy tears this time).
Knowing someone would be there with me settled my nerves instantly. And in a fun twist, she had never been to a concert before, so suddenly, I went from “anxious mess” to “experienced guide.” My anxiety? POOF. Gone.
We grabbed dinner (street meat, nothing fancy but chef’s kiss) and walked five minutes to the arena. I braced myself for massive lines and stress, but nope. Walked right in, easy peasy.
The energy inside was electric. As the arena filled, we could both feel the buzz building.
When the lights went down and Gaga’s voice filled the stadium, it was pure magic. For 2.5 hours, I was transported. The visuals, the music, the adrenaline, I was floored. Gaga even had us scream our inner monsters out loud, which was basically a free group therapy session.
Top 5 concerts of my life (and yes, I went to the Eras Tour, so that’s saying something).
We pulled a little hack: slipping out before the encore to grab merch and avoid the rush of 20,000 people. We snagged matching t-shirts, strolled out stress-free, and headed back to the hotel, buzzing with excitement.
Back in our room, we stayed up until nearly 1 a.m., rehashing every moment. My friend crashed quickly (early work call, bless her), but I tossed and turned, too hyped to sleep.
By 6 a.m., she was gone, and I was left scrolling on my phone, sipping coffee, and trying to wind down. Eventually, I packed up and checked out.
This time, I walked to Union Station with way more confidence (though, yes, still asked security for help because #directionallychallenged). Found a Starbucks (thank god), grabbed my iced coffee, and sat there sweating while I waited the longest 30 minutes of my life for the train platform announcement.
Once on board though? Peace. The ride back felt shorter, calmer. By the time I got to my car, life felt normal again. No panic, no nausea, just the urge to shower and crawl into my own bed.
The Lady Gaga concert was phenomenal, but the real highlight was realizing how much progress I’ve made.
• I didn’t let panic win.
• I didn’t cancel or hide.
• I found beauty (Union Station’s ceiling, the harbour view) even in anxious moments.
• I let myself live the experience.
The “old me” would’ve backed out. The me today? I sweated, panicked, wandered in circles and still had one of the best nights of my life.
✨ Takeaway for my fellow anxious souls: You don’t need to wait for anxiety to disappear before you go after joy. Sometimes, you take your sweaty palms, shaky legs, and motion-sickness fan and you go anyway.
What Helped Me Get Through This Trip
Even though I had my shaky, sweaty, chaotic moments, I leaned on the same tools I teach inside my resources and community.
Here are a few that kept me grounded:
1. Breathwork + Pep Talks
In the middle of my morning meltdown, I used simple breathing techniques to slow my heart rate before texting a friend for encouragement. Sometimes, it’s not about “fixing” the anxiety but softening it enough to take the next step.
2. Sensory Anchors
My portable fan, music, and iced coffee weren’t just comfort items—they gave my body something to focus on besides panic. Small sensory anchors can make a huge difference when you’re overwhelmed.
3. Pausing to Notice Beauty
Union Station’s architecture, the harbour sounds, the skyline view—these mindful pauses reminded me I wasn’t just anxious, I was also experiencing wonder.
4. Reframing the Narrative
Instead of seeing myself as “a mess who couldn’t do this alone,” I chose to see myself as “someone growing, trying, and learning.” That shift changed everything.
5. Exit Strategies
Leaving before the encore, screenshotting my train schedule, giving myself extra time to wander aimlessly—these little prep steps were like love notes to my future anxious self.
✨ If these tips resonate, they’re just a taste of what I share in my free Mindful Living Kit and inside the Members Circle. These are the exact tools I leaned on during this Gaga adventure, and they’re the same ones that can help you navigate anxiety with more ease, calm, and confidence.
Because if I can survive sweaty train rides, motion sickness, and 20,000 Little Monsters… you can absolutely navigate whatever’s in front of you too.
