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"My clients are often surprised to realize that their mind isn’t malfunctioning. It’s actually doing exactly what it learned to do: trying to prevent problems, avoid regret, and keep relationships intact."
Overthinking is one of the most common struggles I hear about from the women I work with. It often sounds like this: replaying a conversation long after it’s over, weighing every possible option before making a decision, or lying awake at night mentally revisiting something that happened earlier in the day.
Many people assume overthinking is a personal flaw — that it means they are anxious, indecisive, or not confident enough. But in my work with clients, I’ve come to see overthinking very differently. Most of the time, it’s not a weakness at all. It’s a strategy that once made a lot of sense.
For many women, overthinking begins as a way to stay safe in relationships.
If you grew up learning to be thoughtful about other people’s feelings, careful with your words, or responsible for keeping things smooth and harmonious, your brain likely became very good at scanning situations and anticipating outcomes. You may have learned to think ahead, read between the lines, and consider how others might react before speaking or acting. These skills can be incredibly useful. They help people navigate social situations, maintain relationships, and avoid unnecessary conflict.
But the same strengths that make someone thoughtful and considerate can also turn inward. Instead of simply reflecting on an experience, the mind starts trying to solve it repeatedly: Did I say the wrong thing? Should I have handled that differently? What will they think of me now?
At that point, thinking stops being productive and becomes a loop. The result: Lots of overthinking which can lead to over-functioning to keep the peace, keep people happy, etc.
Another reason overthinking develops is that many of us were never taught to trust our own internal signals. When decisions feel high-stakes — or when we’ve learned that mistakes might lead to criticism, disappointment, or conflict — the brain tries to protect us by gathering more and more information before acting.
In theory, this sounds logical. If we think long enough, we should eventually arrive at the perfect answer.
But human decisions rarely work that way. Life contains uncertainty, imperfect information, and moments where we simply have to choose and see what happens next.
When people come to see me about overthinking, they are often surprised to realize that their mind isn’t malfunctioning. It’s actually doing exactly what it learned to do: trying to prevent problems, avoid regret, and keep relationships intact.
Understanding this can be incredibly relieving.
Instead of viewing overthinking as a failure of confidence or willpower, it becomes easier to see it as an understandable pattern — one that developed for good reasons, even if it no longer feels helpful. And that shift alone can soften a lot of the self-criticism people carry about how their mind works.
The women I work with are often capable, thoughtful, and deeply conscientious. The goal is not to eliminate those qualities, but to understand how they sometimes turn into mental loops.
When we can see the roots of a pattern clearly, we’re much less likely to blame ourselves for it. And that understanding is often the first step toward relating to our thoughts with a little more patience and a lot more self-trust.
Many people assume overthinking is a personal flaw — that it means they are anxious, indecisive, or not confident enough. But in my work with clients, I’ve come to see overthinking very differently. Most of the time, it’s not a weakness at all. It’s a strategy that once made a lot of sense.
For many women, overthinking begins as a way to stay safe in relationships.
If you grew up learning to be thoughtful about other people’s feelings, careful with your words, or responsible for keeping things smooth and harmonious, your brain likely became very good at scanning situations and anticipating outcomes. You may have learned to think ahead, read between the lines, and consider how others might react before speaking or acting. These skills can be incredibly useful. They help people navigate social situations, maintain relationships, and avoid unnecessary conflict.
But the same strengths that make someone thoughtful and considerate can also turn inward. Instead of simply reflecting on an experience, the mind starts trying to solve it repeatedly: Did I say the wrong thing? Should I have handled that differently? What will they think of me now?
At that point, thinking stops being productive and becomes a loop. The result: Lots of overthinking which can lead to over-functioning to keep the peace, keep people happy, etc.
Another reason overthinking develops is that many of us were never taught to trust our own internal signals. When decisions feel high-stakes — or when we’ve learned that mistakes might lead to criticism, disappointment, or conflict — the brain tries to protect us by gathering more and more information before acting.
In theory, this sounds logical. If we think long enough, we should eventually arrive at the perfect answer.
But human decisions rarely work that way. Life contains uncertainty, imperfect information, and moments where we simply have to choose and see what happens next.
When people come to see me about overthinking, they are often surprised to realize that their mind isn’t malfunctioning. It’s actually doing exactly what it learned to do: trying to prevent problems, avoid regret, and keep relationships intact.
Understanding this can be incredibly relieving.
Instead of viewing overthinking as a failure of confidence or willpower, it becomes easier to see it as an understandable pattern — one that developed for good reasons, even if it no longer feels helpful. And that shift alone can soften a lot of the self-criticism people carry about how their mind works.
The women I work with are often capable, thoughtful, and deeply conscientious. The goal is not to eliminate those qualities, but to understand how they sometimes turn into mental loops.
When we can see the roots of a pattern clearly, we’re much less likely to blame ourselves for it. And that understanding is often the first step toward relating to our thoughts with a little more patience and a lot more self-trust.
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