The wind was howling. The sky looked a murky shade of green. I saw the patio umbrella blow past the back door. I've been here before. It's tornado season in Atlanta.

The house in which I live has no basement, and, I realized this week, no interior rooms without windows on the first floor other than a small coat closet. There my kids sat, inside the closet, among bunches of pillows. I couldn't fit too, so I sat with them just outside the closet.

Tornado sirens were blaring.

As I sat there, I realized how calm I was. My small daughter was very upset and I told her everything would be fine, and I actually believed what I was saying.

That may seem normal to you, but it isn't for me. I recall several years ago, before I was treated for anxiety, being scared out of my wits every single time there was a tornado warning. As an adult. My heart would race, my chest would tighten and I would be sure that our house would be hit. I would be completely frantic. I actually used to dread Spring because of the spate of tornado warnings that would inevitably occur, knowing that I'd have to go through my regular experience of panicking about it.

Only now, I'm not panicking. I'm fine. I'm a calm leader of my household, doing what I need to do. My husband's not here, but that's okay because I'm an adult and I can handle this come what may. I sit outside the closet and talk to my kids. I tweet. I listen for when the sirens end. My heart beats normally.

This may not seem remarkable, but I notice the change. I had always thought it was my reality to be overwhelmingly nervous about so many things. This was the way it was. I was wrong. After being diagnosed with postpartum OCD 9 years ago, I found out I'd had OCD all along. I've been treated ever since that time.

Does this mean I'm always perfectly calm, never a worry to be seen? Hell no! I can still get anxious. In times of stress I can find myself going back to my old ways. But I am changed. I'm not like I was. A tornado warning told me so.