In 2015, my life was out of my control. Living in the suburbs of Los Angeles had taken its toll on me. By the time I realized there was a serious problem, I was nearly 50 lbs overweight, experiencing panic attacks and extreme anxiety.
I was working myself into an early grave. Trying to keep up with other people's expectations left me constantly burning the midnight oil. I'd become a victim of my success.
Rather than work on myself during my free time, I relied on alcohol to lubricate my senses. Towards the end, I became unbearable to be around. That's when I knew it was time to make a change.
In 2016, I came up with a plan that required a complete overhaul. I quit my job, sold most of my belongings, and moved to Tokyo, where I still live today.
I cut back on the alcohol, lost over 50 lbs, and got my mental health in order. My time and energy were focused on becoming a better version of myself.
Since then, I've created a work-life balance, that puts me in the driver's seat. I only work with people passionate about achieving growth, which gives me tremendous energy.
"I feel like I could talk to you all night." The woman I'd been enjoying the evening with leaned in and said with a devilish smile. That's when I knew that I was onto something big. The next day thoughts danced inside my head like ancestral cavemen who had just discovered fire. Over the next month, the same scenario played out again and again and again. It seemed like I'd slipped into a modern version of Groundhog Day. Would you believe I hadn't really said anything? In fact, I had barely told this person anything about myself. And it wasn't because I was trying to be evasive. I was simply practicing a newfound skill that made talking about myself almost irrelevant.
If I could do it all over again, I would have practiced my negotiation training and calmly replied in my best FM DJ voice, “You’re from Chicago?” I hate getting sidetracked. Whenever I learn something new, I try to practice that new skill. But someone or something always seems to appear out of thin air to distract me like a jelly donut brigade parachuting into a fat camp. Then, I spend days or even weeks ruminating before unlocking the hidden lesson.