Tag: NotesFromAnOverthinker

• A Note From the Resident Overthinker: It’s Okay to Sit in a Good Moment

  Note 047

  

  I heard a line in a YouTube video recently that stopped me and had me overthinking.

  A young woman was sharing how she rebuilt her life after divorce while navigating postpartum. She was talking about the challenges she faced, the responsibilities she carried, and the process of putting her life back together.

  And then she said something that I believe was a word for the ages.

  She said she had to learn that it’s okay to sit in a good moment, even when everything isn’t finished.

  Let me say that again.

  It’s okay to sit in a good moment, even when everything isn’t finished.

  That is the kind of reminder you may need to write down, put on a sticky note, and revisit when life starts feeling like one long to-do list.

  Because When Is Everything Ever Really Finished?

  As someone who tends to overthink, plan, anticipate, and mentally prepare for the next thing, I understand how easy it is to overlook the moment you’re actually living in.

  You’re enjoying your morning coffee, but you’re thinking about the laundry.

  You’re having a good day, but you’re worried about the thing you haven’t figured out yet.

  You’re laughing with your family, but part of your mind is somewhere else, making a list of everything that still needs to be handled.

  You’re on vacation, but you’re thinking about what needs to be done when you get home.

  And sometimes, even when things are going well, we struggle to fully enjoy them because we believe we need to finish everything first.

  We tell ourselves:

  “I’ll relax when the house is clean.”

  “I’ll enjoy myself when my finances are in order.”

  “I’ll celebrate when I reach my goal.”

  “I’ll feel good when everything finally falls into place.”

  But what if everything never completely falls into place?

  What if there is always another bill, another responsibility, another goal, another decision, or another area of life that needs your attention?

  Does that mean we should postpone our happiness indefinitely?

  I don’t think so.

  You Don’t Have to Earn Every Good Moment

  There is a difference between acknowledging what still needs to be done and refusing to enjoy anything until it’s done.

  You can have goals and still enjoy your current life.

  You can be working on yourself and still appreciate who you are today.

  You can be rebuilding your finances and still enjoy a nice dinner.

  You can be navigating a difficult season and still laugh.

  You can have an unfinished house, an unfinished plan, or an unfinished dream and still experience a beautiful moment.

  The unfinished parts of your life do not disqualify you from enjoying the finished moments.

  Read that again.

  The fact that you still have work to do doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to experience joy.

  Sometimes we act as if happiness is a reward we receive only after we’ve successfully completed every assignment life has given us.

  But life isn’t a checklist that we get to finish before we’re permitted to live.

  Everything Doesn’t Have to Be Complete for You to Feel Complete

  This is the mental reminder I took from that woman’s words.

  Things don’t have to be perfect for you to feel grateful.

  Your life doesn’t have to look exactly how you imagined for you to appreciate what is good about it.

  You don’t have to have every answer to enjoy the question you’re currently living through.

  You can be in the middle of rebuilding and still recognize that something beautiful is happening.

  You can be healing and still smile.

  You can be growing and still rest.

  You can be uncertain about the future and still enjoy today.

  Your circumstances may be unfinished, but that doesn’t mean your life is without meaning, beauty, or joy.

  And honestly, if we’re always waiting for the next milestone, we may miss the small moments that make the journey worth taking.

  The quiet morning.

  The unexpected phone call.

  The meal that turned out better than expected.

  The conversation that made you laugh.

  The outfit that made you feel good.

  The moment you realize you’re handling something today that once felt impossible.

  Those moments deserve your attention, too.

  Stop Waiting for Life to Be Perfect

  There will always be something to improve, organize, fix, achieve, or figure out.

  That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have goals. It doesn’t mean you stop being responsible or abandon the things that matter.

  It simply means you learn how to work toward what you want without overlooking what you already have.

  You can pursue a better life while appreciating the life you’re currently living.

  You can want more without believing that what you have right now is worthless.

  You can be ambitious and present.

  You can be a work in progress and still enjoy the process.

  Because the truth is, life isn’t just about reaching the destination.

  It’s also about learning to recognize the moments along the way.

  And if you spend your entire journey waiting for everything to be complete, you may miss the very life you’re working so hard to build.

  The Overthinker’s Reminder

  The next time you find yourself saying:

  “I can’t enjoy this yet. I still have too much to do.”

  Pause.

  Look around.

  Is there something good happening right now that you can allow yourself to experience?

  Can you sit in the laughter without thinking about tomorrow?

  Can you enjoy the accomplishment without immediately moving on to the next goal?

  Can you let yourself rest without feeling guilty?

  You don’t have to ignore your responsibilities.

  You don’t have to pretend everything is perfect.

  You simply have to give yourself permission to be present for the good moments, too.

  Because you deserve to live your life while you’re building it.

  A Note for Today

  Everything doesn’t have to be finished for you to enjoy your life.

  The laundry can wait.

  The next goal can wait for a moment.

  The unanswered question can remain unanswered for today.

  Take the picture. Enjoy the meal. Laugh with your people. Sit in the sunshine. Celebrate the small win.

  Let yourself experience the moment without requiring it to be perfect.

  There will always be something else to do.

  There will always be another goal to pursue.

  There will always be another chapter to write.

  So don’t spend so much time preparing for the life you want that you forget to enjoy the life you’re living.

  It’s okay to sit in a good moment, even when everything isn’t finished.

  Until the next note,

  Your Resident Overthinker 🤎

  2026.09.24

• A Note From the Resident Overthinker: Your Brain Is Telling You It Will Take Longer Than It Actually Will

  Note 046

  

  I was watching a video recently of a professional cleaner.

  She specializes in cleaning homes that have reached the point where professional intervention is needed—the kind of homes you might see featured on Hoarders.

  At the beginning of the video, she’s standing in what looks like a completely overwhelming living room.

  And before she even starts, she says something that immediately caught my attention:

  “Your brain is telling you it will take longer than it actually will.”

  I paused.

  Because…

  She’s right.

  And not just about cleaning.

  I’ve done my fair share of deep cleaning and decluttering.

  I’ll look at a dresser drawer and think:

  “I’ll clean this really quickly.”

  And somehow…

  three hours later…

  I’m sitting on the floor going through things I forgot I owned, deciding what to keep, what to donate, what needs to be thrown away, and wondering how one drawer became an entire life project.

  But what she’s talking about isn’t necessarily how long something actually takes.

  It’s how overwhelming our brain makes it feel before we begin.

  And that got my Overthinkers brain going.

  Because how many things have we avoided simply because we convinced ourselves they were going to be too hard?

  Too complicated.

  Too uncomfortable.

  Too time-consuming.

  Too scary.

  Too much.

  We do this with our lives too.

  Maybe you’ve been thinking about changing careers.

  And your brain says:

  “Starting over is going to take forever.”

  So you stay.

  Maybe you’ve been wanting to go back to school.

  “I’m too old. It’ll take years.”

  So you don’t.

  Maybe your finances need some serious attention.

  “I’ll never get this under control.”

  So you avoid looking at the numbers.

  Maybe your house needs decluttering.

  “This is going to take me weeks.”

  So you keep walking past the mess.

  Maybe you’ve outgrown a friendship.

  “Ending this relationship is going to be so complicated.”

  So you stay.

  Maybe you’ve been unhappy in a particular season of your life.

  “Changing everything would be too much.”

  So you convince yourself to tolerate it a little longer.

  Maybe you’ve been dreaming about starting a business, writing the book, taking the class, getting healthier, creating something, or simply becoming a different version of yourself.

  And your brain whispers:

  “That’s going to take too long.”

  So you don’t start.

  But here’s the problem with that thinking.

  You’re calculating the difficulty of the entire journey before you’ve taken the first step.

  You’re looking at the mountain instead of the next step.

  You’re imagining six months from now.

  A year from now.

  Five years from now.

  You’re thinking about everything that has to happen.

  Everything that could go wrong.

  Everything you don’t know.

  Everything you’ll have to give up.

  Everything you’ll have to learn.

  And suddenly…

  doing nothing feels easier.

  But doing nothing has a cost too.

  You just don’t always see the bill immediately.

  Staying stuck takes time too.

  That’s the part we don’t think about.

  You might say:

  “Changing careers will take two years.”

  But staying in a career you hate for another two years also takes two years.

  You might say:

  “Getting my finances together will take forever.”

  But ignoring your finances for another year doesn’t make the problem disappear.

  You might say:

  “Decluttering my house will take too long.”

  But living surrounded by things that overwhelm you every day is costing you something too.

  You might say:

  “Starting over will be difficult.”

  It probably will.

  But staying somewhere you’ve already outgrown can be difficult too.

  Time is going to pass either way.

  The question is:

  What will you have to show for it when it does?

  Sometimes we need to stop thinking about the entire project.

  Maybe you don’t have to clean the whole house today.

  Clean the drawer.

  Maybe you don’t have to figure out your entire career.

  Research one option.

  Maybe you don’t have to fix your entire financial life overnight.

  Look at one account.

  Maybe you don’t have to become a completely different person tomorrow.

  Change one habit.

  Maybe you don’t have to know exactly where you’re going.

  Just take the next step.

  Because once you start, something interesting happens.

  The thing that looked enormous from a distance starts becoming manageable.

  One drawer becomes clean.

  One application gets submitted.

  One class gets researched.

  One conversation happens.

  One payment gets made.

  One workout gets completed.

  One page gets written.

  One decision gets made.

  And suddenly…

  you’re moving.

  Overthinkers, this is where we can get ourselves in trouble.

  We can spend so much time thinking about doing something that we confuse thinking about it with actually doing it.

  We plan.

  We research.

  We analyze.

  We prepare.

  We imagine every possible outcome.

  And eventually we’re exhausted from something we haven’t even started.

  😂

  Sometimes the answer isn’t another hour of thinking.

  Sometimes the answer is:

  Just start.

  Not because you know exactly what you’re doing.

  Not because you know how long it will take.

  Not because you know exactly how it will end.

  But because you’ll never know what is possible if you never begin.

  And maybe the cleaner’s advice applies to more than clutter.

  Maybe your brain is telling you that rebuilding your life will take longer than it actually will.

  Maybe it’s telling you that becoming healthier will take too long.

  That rebuilding your confidence will take too long.

  That making new friends will take too long.

  That finding yourself again will take too long.

  That starting over will take too long.

  That learning something new will take too long.

  That healing will take too long.

  That creating the life you want will take too long.

  Maybe.

  Maybe it will take time.

  But time is going to pass anyway.

  And you don’t have to complete the entire journey today.

  You just have to be willing to begin.

  A Note for Today

  The next time your brain tells you:

  “That’s going to take forever.”

  “That’s too much.”

  “I’ll never be able to do all of that.”

  Stop.

  Ask yourself:

  “Do I actually know that, or am I overwhelmed by the thought of beginning?”

  Because sometimes the hardest part isn’t the work.

  It’s the story we tell ourselves about the work before we ever start.

  So clean the drawer.

  Send the email.

  Make the appointment.

  Fill out the application.

  Take the walk.

  Open the book.

  Start the business plan.

  Have the conversation.

  Take the first step.

  You don’t have to finish today.

  You just have to begin.

  Because your brain may be telling you it will take longer than it actually will.

  And even if it does take a while…

  you’ll be further along than you are today.

  Until the next note,
  Your Resident Overthinker

  2026.09.10

• A Note From the Resident Overthinker: Strive for Growth, Not Perfection

  Note 045

  

  I had one of those conversations with my daughter recently that started out as a normal conversation and ended with a little life lesson.

  We were talking about one of her AP classes.

  She’s having a little difficulty with it.

  And honestly?

  That’s a good thing.

  Not because I want her to struggle, but because sometimes we need to struggle.

  She’s a perfectionist, so when something doesn’t come easily, her natural response is to shut down.

  She’s used to understanding things quickly.

  She’s used to doing well.

  She’s used to knowing what she’s doing.

  So when something challenges her, it’s uncomfortable.

  And instead of saying:

  “I don’t understand this.”

  or

  “I need help.”

  her instinct is more like:

  “I’m fine.”

  Everything is fine.

  Nothing to see here.

  So I asked her how we could support her.

  How could her teacher help?

  How could Dad help?

  How could I help?

  But she didn’t really want to acknowledge that she needed help.

  And I understood it.

  Because admitting you don’t know something can feel uncomfortable when you’ve built an identity around knowing.

  But eventually, I said something to her that I think all of us could use as a reminder:

  Strive for growth. Don’t strive for perfection.

  And I started thinking about how often we put unnecessary pressure on ourselves because we believe we’re supposed to already know.

  We’re supposed to already understand.

  We’re supposed to already have it figured out.

  We’re supposed to be good at it.

  We’re supposed to get it right the first time.

  But…

  Why?

  Who told us that?

  Life was never designed for us to know everything.

  Think about how much you have learned simply by living.

  You learned through experience.

  Through mistakes.

  Through relationships.

  Through failure.

  Through success.

  Through uncomfortable conversations.

  Through jobs that didn’t work out.

  Through relationships that taught you something.

  Through parenting.

  Through heartbreak.

  Through starting over.

  Through trying something and realizing:

  “Okay…that wasn’t for me.”

  We’re constantly learning.

  And I hope we never stop.

  Because the moment we believe we have nothing left to learn is the moment we stop growing.

  Sometimes being challenged is the point.

  I told my daughter that I don’t expect her to know everything.

  Her teacher doesn’t expect her to know everything.

  Dad doesn’t expect her to know everything.

  And I certainly don’t expect her to know everything.

  She’s learning.

  That’s the whole point of school.

  But isn’t that also the point of life?

  You’re going to encounter things that challenge you.

  You’re going to meet people who think differently.

  You’re going to walk into rooms where you’re the least experienced person there.

  You’re going to start jobs where you don’t know everything.

  You’re going to have conversations you don’t know how to navigate.

  You’re going to become a parent and realize there isn’t a manual for every situation.

  You’re going to try things and fail.

  You’re going to discover things about yourself that you didn’t know.

  And that’s okay.

  You are allowed to be a work in progress.

  Perfection can become a very expensive goal.

  Because when you’re constantly trying to be perfect, you’re constantly looking for evidence that you’re falling short.

  You didn’t do enough.

  You don’t know enough.

  You don’t look good enough.

  You aren’t successful enough.

  Your house isn’t clean enough.

  Your career isn’t far enough along.

  Your relationships aren’t perfect.

  Your parenting isn’t perfect.

  Your body isn’t perfect.

  Your life doesn’t look like the life you imagined.

  And suddenly…

  nothing feels like enough.

  That’s an exhausting way to live.

  Because perfection has no finish line.

  There will always be something else to improve.

  Something else to accomplish.

  Something else to fix.

  Someone else who appears to be doing it better.

  And if your goal is perfection, you will always be chasing something you can never fully catch.

  Growth is different.

  Growth says:

  “I don’t know this yet.”

  “Let me learn.”

  “I made a mistake.”

  “Let me try again.”

  “I need help.”

  “What can I do differently?”

  “I’m better than I was yesterday.”

  Growth gives you room to breathe.

  Growth gives you permission to be human.

  Growth allows you to celebrate progress instead of constantly criticizing yourself for not being finished.

  And here’s something I hope my children always remember:

  You don’t have to be perfect to be proud of yourself.

  You just have to keep growing.

  There is nothing embarrassing about needing help.

  I think this is one of the hardest lessons for people who are used to being good at things.

  When you’ve always been the person who “gets it,” being confused can feel like failure.

  It isn’t.

  Asking for help isn’t weakness.

  Asking questions isn’t weakness.

  Not knowing isn’t weakness.

  Being a beginner isn’t weakness.

  Sometimes the smartest thing you can say is:

  “I don’t understand. Can you explain that to me?”

  That sentence can open a door that pride keeps closed.

  And maybe that’s what I really wanted my daughter to understand.

  This class isn’t just teaching you a subject.

  It’s teaching you how to struggle, ask, learn, adapt, and keep going.

  Those skills will take you much further than getting every answer right.

  And honestly, this note is for me too.

  Because as parents, we’re constantly teaching our children lessons that we are still learning ourselves.

  I’m still learning.

  You’re still learning.

  She’s still learning.

  We’re all still learning.

  And I hope we continue to do so until the day we leave this earth.

  There is no age where you suddenly graduate from learning.

  There is no point where you become completely finished.

  And there shouldn’t be.

  Because there is always another lesson.

  Another perspective.

  Another skill.

  Another experience.

  Another opportunity to grow.

  A Note for Today

  Strive for growth, not perfection.

  You don’t have to know everything.

  You don’t have to get everything right.

  You don’t have to have it all figured out.

  And you don’t have to pretend you’re fine when you need help.

  Give yourself permission to be challenged.

  Give yourself permission to struggle.

  Give yourself permission to ask questions.

  Give yourself permission to start again.

  Because the goal isn’t to become perfect.

  The goal is to become a little wiser, a little stronger, and a little more capable than you were yesterday.

  And that’s more than enough.

  Until the next note,
  Your Resident Overthinker

  2026.09.09

• A Note From the Resident Overthinker: What Good Is Winning the Argument If You Lose Your Peace?

  Note 044

  

  I heard a one-liner while watching a YouTube video the other day that immediately made me stop.

  “What good is winning the argument if you lose your peace?”

  Now that’s a question.

  Because how many times have we found ourselves in situations where someone has misunderstood us, misrepresented us, created a narrative about us, or simply decided who they think we are?

  And what do we do?

  We go into defense mode.

  We explain.

  We clarify.

  We provide context.

  We replay the conversation.

  We explain it again.

  And again.

  We think about what we should have said.

  What we could have said.

  What they might have meant.

  What we want them to understand.

  We want to correct the record.

  We want them to know:

  “That’s not what happened.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “That’s not who I am.”

  And sometimes…

  we exhaust ourselves trying to prove something to someone who has already decided what they’re going to believe.

  But here’s the uncomfortable part.

  What if they don’t want clarification?

  What if they’ve already created the story?

  What if they’re committed to their version?

  What if no explanation you give is going to change their mind?

  And what if you keep handing them pieces of your peace trying to convince them otherwise?

  That’s when the question becomes:

  Is winning this argument worth what it’s costing me?

  Because sometimes we think we’re fighting for our reputation when we’re actually fighting for someone’s approval.

  We want them to see us correctly.

  We want them to admit they were wrong.

  We want them to understand our intentions.

  We want them to apologize.

  We want them to acknowledge what really happened.

  And those things may never happen.

  Not because you didn’t explain yourself well enough.

  But because you cannot control what someone chooses to believe.

  There is a difference between standing up for yourself and chasing understanding.

  I don’t think the answer is to never defend yourself.

  There are absolutely times when you should speak.

  There are times when you need to correct misinformation.

  There are times when you need to establish a boundary.

  There are times when silence would cost you more than speaking.

  But there’s also a point where you’ve said what you needed to say.

  And after that?

  You have a decision to make.

  Are you going to keep knocking on a door that someone has intentionally decided not to open?

  Because you can spend hours trying to convince someone that you’re not the person they’ve decided you are.

  And they can still walk away believing exactly what they wanted to believe.

  Overthinkers, we need to talk.

  Because we have a particular talent for mentally revisiting conversations.

  “Maybe I should have said…”

  “I should have explained…”

  “Maybe they misunderstood…”

  “What if they think…”

  “I need them to know…”

  And suddenly the conversation ended three days ago…

  but we’re still having it in our heads.

  We’re trying to win a conversation that isn’t even happening anymore.

  And meanwhile?

  Our peace is paying the bill.

  That’s the part we need to recognize.

  Sometimes the argument isn’t happening in front of you.

  It’s happening inside you.

  And you keep replaying it because you’re still trying to change the outcome.

  But the outcome may already be what it is.

  They believe what they believe.

  They said what they said.

  They interpreted you the way they interpreted you.

  And you may not be able to change that.

  Sometimes you have to remember who you are.

  This is where knowing yourself becomes so important.

  If you know your character…

  If you know your intentions…

  If you know what you did and didn’t do…

  If you know the kind of person you are trying to become…

  then you don’t have to attend every trial someone holds about you.

  You don’t have to present evidence every time someone misunderstands you.

  You don’t have to chase every accusation.

  You don’t have to correct every opinion.

  And you certainly don’t have to convince everyone to like you.

  Sometimes your life will have to speak for you.

  Your consistency will speak.

  Your character will speak.

  Your relationships will speak.

  Your actions will speak.

  And sometimes…

  silence will speak too.

  But what about when someone is telling lies about you?

  That’s where discernment comes in.

  Ask yourself:

  Does this actually affect my life?

  Does this affect my work?

  My family?

  My reputation?

  My safety?

  A relationship that genuinely matters?

  Or am I simply uncomfortable knowing someone has the wrong idea about me?

  Because those are two very different things.

  Sometimes action is necessary.

  And sometimes we’re simply uncomfortable with being misunderstood.

  And learning to tolerate being misunderstood without immediately trying to fix it?

  That’s growth.

  Not everyone needs to understand you.

  Read that again.

  Not everyone will understand your choices.

  Not everyone will understand your boundaries.

  Not everyone will understand why you changed.

  Not everyone will understand why you left.

  Not everyone will understand why you stayed.

  Not everyone will understand your priorities.

  And not everyone will understand you.

  That’s life.

  You can explain yourself beautifully and still be misunderstood.

  You can have the best intentions and still be perceived incorrectly.

  You can do everything right and still be someone’s villain.

  And sometimes…

  you have to be okay with that.

  Because protecting your peace doesn’t mean you don’t care.

  It means you recognize that your peace has value too.

  So before you enter the next argument…

  Before you send the paragraph.

  Before you make the phone call.

  Before you spend three hours explaining yourself.

  Before you start gathering evidence.

  Before you replay the conversation for the tenth time…

  Stop.

  Take a breath.

  And ask yourself:

  “Is this something I’m willing to lose my peace over?”

  Maybe the answer is yes.

  If it’s important, speak.

  Stand up for yourself.

  Set the boundary.

  Tell the truth.

  Do what needs to be done.

  But if the answer is no?

  Then maybe you don’t need to win.

  Maybe you need to let go.

  Let them think what they’re going to think.

  Let them tell their version.

  Let them misunderstand.

  Let them have the opinion.

  And you?

  Keep your peace.

  Because sometimes the biggest win isn’t proving that you were right.

  Sometimes the biggest win is realizing that you don’t need to prove it anymore.

  A Note for Today

  Not every misunderstanding requires a defense.

  Not every accusation deserves your energy.

  Not every opinion deserves your response.

  And not every argument deserves your peace.

  Know who you are.

  Speak when you need to.

  Stand up for yourself when it matters.

  But learn when to put the argument down.

  Because at the end of the day…

  what good is winning the argument if you lose yourself trying to win it?

  Until the next note,
  Your Resident Overthinker

  2026.09.08

• A Note From the Resident Overthinker: Sometimes the Thing You Want Isn’t the Thing You Need

  Note 043

  

  There is a lesson life taught me years ago that I still think about.

  At the time, I was working in an office and wanted to leave.

  The reason isn’t really important.

  What matters is that I knew I wanted to stay in the same field, so I started doing what I thought I was supposed to do.

  I researched.

  I updated my resume.

  I researched companies.

  I researched positions.

  And then I found the job.

  At least, I thought I did.

  The pay was great.

  The benefits were great.

  The schedule was exactly what I wanted.

  The work-life balance sounded perfect.

  They had the equipment and amenities to actually do the job well.

  It was everything I had been looking for.

  Honestly, it seemed almost too good to be true.

  But I had done my homework.

  I read reviews.

  I researched the company.

  I looked at what current and former employees were saying.

  For the most part, the reviews were great.

  So I applied.

  And got rejected.

  No interview.

  Okay.

  I waited.

  Months passed.

  Maybe even close to a year.

  I applied again.

  Rejected again.

  This time they told me to try again in six months.

  So what did I do?

  I researched some more.

  Resume tips.

  Application tips.

  Interview tips.

  I wanted this job.

  And not just a little.

  I had already created a future in my head.

  I could see myself working there.

  I could see the schedule.

  I could see the work-life balance.

  I could see myself settling in.

  I honestly thought:

  “This is where I’m going to retire.”

  Then eventually, I applied again.

  And this time…

  I got the interview.

  Within days, I received an interview request.

  I went through the interviews.

  I went through the hiring process.

  I went through onboarding.

  Everything was moving forward.

  I was finally getting the thing I had worked so hard to get.

  I was so excited that I even gave my current employer a month’s notice because I wanted to give them plenty of time to find someone to replace me.

  I was leaving.

  I had finally gotten the job.

  The job I had researched.

  The job I had waited for.

  The job I had been rejected from multiple times.

  The job I had convinced myself was going to be my long-term home.

  And then I started.

  Chile…

  Within the first week, I knew.

  This wasn’t what I thought it was.

  The flexibility I had been so excited about?

  It wasn’t really flexible.

  The paid holidays?

  Well…they were considered “paid” because you were expected to use your PTO.

  The workload?

  It wasn’t distributed the way I had been led to believe.

  And the pace?

  Let’s just say I couldn’t seem to take a restroom break without somebody wondering when I was coming back.

  But one of the biggest red flags wasn’t even the workload.

  It was the people.

  Everyone who had been there seemed to speak the exact same language.

  “This is the best company.”

  “You can retire here.”

  “We all love each other.”

  “We’re family.”

  “We’re here to help.”

  Over and over.

  The same language.

  The same script.

  And eventually I realized something:

  I was going to have to learn their language if I wanted to survive there.

  And I didn’t want to.

  The thing I had spent so much time trying to get…

  Wasn’t actually what I thought it was.

  Eight months later, I was gone.

  And that experience changed the way I look at life.

  Because I had wanted that job so badly.

  I had worked for it.

  I had researched it.

  I had waited for it.

  I had been rejected and tried again.

  I had prepared myself for it.

  And when I finally got it, I thought the story was over.

  I thought getting it meant I had won.

  But getting what you want isn’t always confirmation that it’s good for you.

  Sometimes you finally get the thing you’ve been praying for…

  and realize:

  “Oh. This isn’t for me.”

  And that’s a hard realization.

  Especially when you’ve invested so much into getting there.

  Sometimes we become attached to the picture instead of the reality.

  I think we do this in so many areas of life.

  The job we desperately want.

  The relationship we thought would last forever.

  The house we thought would make us happy.

  The friendship we thought would always be there.

  The lifestyle we thought would finally make us feel fulfilled.

  The opportunity we thought would change everything.

  We build the picture in our minds.

  And once we become attached to that picture, we can start overlooking the evidence in front of us.

  We see what we hope something will be instead of what it actually is.

  And sometimes we’re so determined to make something work because we wanted it so badly that we don’t recognize when it’s time to let it go.

  But here’s the lesson I took from that experience.

  The thing you want so badly isn’t necessarily the thing that’s best for you.

  And that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pursue things.

  Please don’t misunderstand me.

  Research.

  Prepare.

  Apply.

  Try again.

  Work hard.

  Go after what you want.

  Absolutely.

  But leave room for the possibility that what you’re pursuing may not turn out the way you imagined.

  And if it doesn’t?

  That isn’t necessarily failure.

  Sometimes it’s information.

  Sometimes the rejection is information.

  Sometimes the closed door is information.

  Sometimes getting the opportunity is information.

  Sometimes spending eight months somewhere and realizing it’s not for you is information.

  The experience taught me something I couldn’t have learned by simply imagining the job.

  And maybe that’s why we shouldn’t be so afraid of being disappointed.

  Because sometimes disappointment is protection.

  Sometimes what didn’t work out was making room for something that fits you better.

  Sometimes the relationship ending saves you years of trying to make something work.

  Sometimes the job you didn’t get frees you to find one that actually fits your life.

  Sometimes the house you didn’t buy keeps you from taking on something you weren’t ready for.

  Sometimes the opportunity you thought you needed turns out to be the very thing that teaches you what you don’t want.

  And sometimes…

  the thing you wanted so badly was simply meant to teach you something.

  It doesn’t have to stay forever to have been valuable.

  I also learned not to confuse persistence with forcing.

  Persistence is powerful.

  But there is a difference between saying:

  “I’m going to keep trying.”

  and saying:

  “I have decided this has to work because I’ve already invested so much.”

  The second one can keep us stuck.

  We start thinking about everything we’ve already put into something.

  The time.

  The money.

  The energy.

  The preparation.

  The emotional investment.

  And we think:

  “I can’t walk away now.”

  But sometimes walking away is exactly what you need to do.

  Not because the effort was wasted.

  Because the lesson has already been learned.

  So now when I really want something…

  I try to leave room for another possibility.

  I can say:

  “This is what I want.”

  without insisting:

  “This is what must happen.”

  I can work toward something without making it my identity.

  I can be excited about an opportunity without assuming it’s my forever opportunity.

  And I can accept that sometimes life has a way of saying:

  “You thought you wanted this. Let me show you why you don’t.”

  That job taught me more than I expected.

  It taught me to pay attention.

  It taught me that research is important, but experience is different.

  It taught me that sometimes the reality behind the advertisement is very different from the picture you created.

  And most importantly…

  It taught me that getting what you want isn’t always the same as getting what you need.

  A Note for Today

  Be careful about becoming so attached to what you want that you stop paying attention to what you’re actually experiencing.

  Sometimes the thing you can taste, the thing you’ve been waiting for, the thing you’ve convinced yourself is perfect…

  isn’t perfect for you at all.

  And that’s okay.

  You don’t have to regret wanting it.

  You don’t have to regret trying.

  You don’t have to call the experience a failure.

  Take the lesson.

  Take the wisdom.

  Take the clarity.

  And keep moving.

  Because sometimes life doesn’t give you what you want…

  it gives you the experience you needed to understand what you really want.

  Until the next note,
  Your Resident Overthinker

  2026.09.07

• A Note From the Resident Overthinker: Be Brave Enough to Be Bad at Something New

  Note 042

  

  I heard a one-liner the other day and immediately thought:

  I have to pass this along.

  A young woman was at the gym on the StairMaster.

  Someone asked her how she was able to stay on that machine for 60 minutes.

  Her response was simple:

  “I didn’t start off like this.”

  She explained that she wanted to get better at it, so she slowly increased her time.

  A couple more minutes.

  Then a couple more.

  And a couple more.

  Until eventually, she could do 60 minutes.

  She built her strength.

  She built her stamina.

  She built her endurance.

  But it took time.

  And then she said something that stopped me:

  “You have to be brave enough to be bad at something new.”

  Now that’s a note.

  Because isn’t that what stops so many of us?

  We don’t want to be beginners.

  We don’t want to look inexperienced.

  We don’t want anyone to see us struggling.

  We don’t want to make mistakes.

  We don’t want to ask questions that we think everyone else already knows the answer to.

  We want to start something and immediately be good at it.

  And if we’re not?

  We quit.

  Or worse…

  We never start.

  But nobody starts at 60 minutes.

  Nobody starts knowing everything.

  Nobody starts with perfect confidence.

  Nobody starts with all the answers.

  The woman on that StairMaster didn’t magically wake up one day and become someone who could exercise for an hour on that machine.

  She started where she was.

  And then she added a little more.

  That’s how growth works.

  A little more.

  A little better.

  A little stronger.

  A little wiser.

  A little braver.

  And eventually, you look back and realize:

  Wow. Look how far I’ve come.

  This applies to almost everything.

  Starting college?

  You’re going to be new.

  Starting a career?

  You’re going to have things you don’t know.

  Starting a business?

  You’re going to make mistakes.

  Becoming a parent?

  Please believe me—you are learning as you go.

  Starting a new job?

  You may not know where everything is or how everything works.

  Learning a new skill?

  You’re probably going to be terrible at it before you’re good at it.

  Trying something you’ve always been afraid to try?

  You’re probably going to feel uncomfortable.

  And that’s okay.

  Because being bad at something isn’t evidence that you can’t do it.

  It’s often evidence that you’re learning.

  And overthinkers…

  This one is especially for us.

  Because we can think ourselves right out of beginning.

  We research.

  We analyze.

  We compare.

  We watch other people doing it.

  We look at how good they are.

  Then we look at ourselves and think:

  “I’m nowhere near that level.”

  Well…

  Of course you’re not.

  You’re looking at their chapter 20 while you’re standing at your chapter 1.

  You haven’t had their practice.

  Their mistakes.

  Their failures.

  Their repetition.

  Their experience.

  Their 60 minutes on the StairMaster.

  You have to be willing to start with your two minutes.

  Then three.

  Then five.

  Then ten.

  Whatever that looks like for your particular journey.

  Give yourself permission to be a beginner.

  This might be one of the most freeing things we can give ourselves.

  Permission to not know.

  Permission to ask.

  Permission to make mistakes.

  Permission to look awkward.

  Permission to change your mind.

  Permission to try again.

  Permission to not be impressive yet.

  You don’t have to be good enough to begin.

  Beginning is how you become good.

  And maybe that’s the part we’ve been getting backward.

  We’re waiting for confidence before we start.

  But sometimes confidence comes from starting.

  You do the thing.

  You survive being uncomfortable.

  You learn.

  You improve.

  You try again.

  And eventually you realize:

  “Wait…I can actually do this.”

  That’s confidence.

  So what are you avoiding because you don’t want to be bad at it?

  What have you been putting off?

  The business idea?

  The degree?

  The new career?

  The workout?

  The hobby?

  The book?

  The creative project?

  The conversation?

  The lifestyle change?

  The version of yourself you’ve been thinking about becoming?

  Maybe you don’t need to be fearless.

  Maybe you just need to be brave enough to be a beginner.

  Start with two minutes.

  Then add a little more.

  Build your strength.

  Build your stamina.

  Build your confidence.

  And give yourself enough time to become the person who can do what you once thought you couldn’t.

  A Note for Today

  You have to be brave enough to be bad at something new.

  Nobody starts at 60 minutes.

  Start where you are.

  Do what you can.

  Add a little more tomorrow.

  And keep going.

  Because one day, someone may look at you and ask:

  “How are you able to do that?”

  And you’ll be able to say:

  “I didn’t start off like this.”

  Until the next note,
  Your Resident Overthinker

  2026.09.06

• A Note From the Resident Overthinker: Don’t Rush Through Life

  Note 041

  

  We were doing our first-of-the-month reports at work when my coworker looked at me and said:

  “Oh wow, the year is going by so fast.”

  I laughed and agreed.

  Because it really does feel that way.

  Then I told her about something I noticed while I was shopping the other day.

  Fall decorations are already everywhere.

  Halloween is out.

  Pumpkin everything has arrived.

  And some stores—you know the ones—already have Christmas sitting on the shelves.

  Christmas!

  We haven’t even made it through summer yet.

  And it made me think…

  Are we rushing through life without even realizing it?

  It feels like we’re constantly being pushed toward the next thing.

  The next season.

  The next holiday.

  The next sale.

  The next trend.

  The next milestone.

  The next goal.

  The next version of ourselves.

  And somewhere along the way, we can forget to actually be where we are.

  Technically, we still have a few weeks of summer left.

  And where I live?

  We’ve been under a heat advisory for seven days and counting.

  So believe me…

  It is still summer over here.

  But this isn’t really about the calendar.

  It’s about how easily we allow the world around us to create a sense of urgency about our lives.

  Social media can make you feel like you’re behind.

  Society can make you feel like you should have accomplished certain things by a certain age.

  Marketing is constantly telling us what we need next.

  And sometimes we start rushing ourselves through seasons that we haven’t even finished experiencing.

  We start thinking:

  “I should be further along.”

  “I should have figured this out by now.”

  “Everyone else is doing this.”

  “What’s next?”

  But what if this is still your season?

  What if you’re supposed to be learning something here?

  What if you’re supposed to enjoy where you are before worrying about where you’re going?

  What if you don’t need to rush?

  Let the season be the season.

  I’m learning that there is something beautiful about allowing life to unfold without constantly trying to get ahead of it.

  Enjoy the summer while it’s summer.

  Enjoy your children while they’re this age.

  Enjoy your marriage in the season it’s in.

  Enjoy your home before you decide you need a new one.

  Enjoy the career you’re building.

  Enjoy the quiet season.

  Enjoy the busy season.

  Enjoy the rebuilding season.

  Enjoy the starting-over season.

  You don’t have to rush through one chapter because you’re excited about the next.

  And you certainly don’t have to live according to someone else’s timeline.

  A Note for Today

  Don’t let the world rush you through your own life.

  You don’t have to be in a hurry just because everyone else seems to be.

  There is still time.

  There is still room to grow.

  There is still room to change your mind.

  And there is still plenty of life left to live.

  So take a breath.

  Look around.

  Be where your feet are.

  The next season will arrive when it’s supposed to.

  And when it does…

  We’ll be ready.

  Until the next note,
  Your Resident Overthinker

  2026.09.05

• A Note From the Resident Overthinker: Those Are Their Feelings, Not Yours

  Note 040

  

  A few weeks ago, I had one of those parenting moments that lasted maybe five minutes but left me thinking about a much bigger lesson.

  My son and I were in the store picking up the last few school supplies he needed.

  He’s starting his freshman year of high school, so this isn’t just another first day of school.

  It’s a new school.

  A new routine.

  A new schedule.

  Older students.

  A much bigger building.

  Different teachers.

  More difficult classes.

  Basically, a whole new world.

  While we were in the aisle looking for something—I don’t even remember what at this point—one of his friends spotted him.

  You know how boys greet each other these days.

  The quick “bro” hug, a few laughs, and then immediately into conversation.

  His friend started telling my son how nervous he was.

  How anxious.

  How scared he was about starting high school.

  Then he started naming mutual friends who were nervous too.

  “So-and-so is scared.”

  “They’re nervous too.”

  “The school is so big. I don’t know how we’re going to do this.”

  And my son was listening.

  I finished getting what we needed, they said their goodbyes, and we continued shopping.

  But the moment we walked away, Mommy Savior Mode kicked in.

  I looked at my son and said:

  “Listen to me.”

  I told him something I think is important for all of us to learn—not just teenagers.

  Someone else’s feelings don’t automatically have to become your feelings.

  I said, “Just because your friend is nervous doesn’t mean you have to be nervous.”

  His fear belongs to him.

  His anxiety belongs to him.

  His perspective belongs to him.

  And his experience of starting high school may be completely different from yours.

  That doesn’t mean you don’t care about him.

  It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t listen.

  It doesn’t mean you can’t understand why he’s nervous.

  It simply means:

  You don’t have to pick up his emotions and carry them around as your own.

  And let’s be honest…adults do this too.

  Have you ever talked to someone about a situation and walked away feeling worse than you did before the conversation?

  You weren’t worried.

  Then they told you why they would be worried.

  You weren’t afraid.

  Then they explained everything that could go wrong.

  You were excited.

  Then they gave you ten reasons why it probably wouldn’t work.

  You were confident.

  Then suddenly you’re questioning yourself.

  That’s how easily we can absorb someone else’s perspective.

  And sometimes we don’t even realize we’ve done it.

  Someone tells us their experience and we unconsciously make it our experience.

  Someone says:

  “That job is terrible.”

  And now we’re questioning a job we haven’t even started.

  Someone says:

  “Marriage is hard.”

  And now we’re afraid of a relationship that is actually healthy.

  Someone says:

  “You don’t want to live there.”

  And suddenly we’ve talked ourselves out of a place we’ve never visited.

  Someone says:

  “I tried that and it didn’t work.”

  And now we assume it won’t work for us either.

  But here’s the thing:

  Their experience is information. It isn’t your instruction.

  That’s the distinction I wanted my son to understand.

  You can listen without absorbing.

  I reminded him that it is perfectly normal to feel nervous.

  Actually, I want him to understand that.

  Being nervous doesn’t mean something is wrong.

  Being scared doesn’t mean you aren’t capable.

  Sometimes being nervous simply means you’re stepping into something unfamiliar.

  And honestly, starting high school is unfamiliar.

  But I also reminded him that he already had information his friend didn’t necessarily have.

  He had attended summer school.

  He had already been inside the building.

  He had walked around and started learning the layout.

  He had experienced middle school and already knew what it felt like to enter a new school environment.

  He was going to have open house.

  He was going to meet teachers.

  He was going to learn his schedule.

  And most importantly…

  He hadn’t even started yet.

  So why was he going to let someone else’s fear write the story before he had experienced it for himself?

  This is where I think overthinkers need to be especially careful.

  We are naturally good at collecting information.

  Give us one little detail and we’ll find another detail, then another, then another…

  Before you know it, we’ve created an entire scenario that hasn’t happened.

  Now add someone else’s fear to that equation?

  Oh, we’re in trouble.

  Someone tells us something went badly for them.

  We imagine it happening to us.

  Someone tells us they’re worried.

  We become worried.

  Someone tells us they don’t like someone.

  Now we’re looking at that person differently.

  Someone tells us they wouldn’t do something.

  Now we’re questioning whether we should.

  But we have to learn to ask:

  “Is this actually my feeling, or did I just pick it up from someone else?”

  That question can save you a lot of unnecessary anxiety.

  There is a difference between empathy and emotional ownership.

  I want my children to be compassionate.

  If their friend is nervous, listen.

  If someone is scared, encourage them.

  If someone needs reassurance, be there.

  But don’t confuse supporting someone with taking responsibility for their emotions.

  You can say:

  “I understand why you’re nervous.”

  without saying:

  “Now I’m nervous too.”

  You can say:

  “I hope everything works out for you.”

  without deciding:

  “This probably won’t work for me either.”

  You can acknowledge someone’s experience without making it your prophecy.

  And I think that’s a life skill worth teaching.

  Let yourself have your own experience.

  My son’s friend may absolutely have a difficult first few days of high school.

  Maybe he’ll feel overwhelmed.

  Maybe he’ll get lost.

  Maybe the workload will be harder than he expected.

  Maybe he’ll adjust immediately.

  Maybe my son will experience some of those same things.

  I don’t know.

  And neither does he.

  That’s the point.

  They haven’t lived it yet.

  So why start by borrowing someone else’s fear?

  Walk into the experience.

  Pay attention.

  Learn.

  Adjust.

  Course correct if necessary.

  But let your own experience tell you what you think.

  This applies far beyond high school.

  It applies when you’re starting a new job.

  Moving to a new city.

  Starting a business.

  Going back to school.

  Dating again.

  Getting married.

  Having children.

  Changing careers.

  Working on your health.

  Making new friends.

  Starting over.

  Someone else’s road may give you something to consider.

  But it doesn’t determine where yours will lead.

  A Note for Today

  You can acknowledge someone else’s emotions without adopting them.

  Listen.

  Have empathy.

  Be supportive.

  Gather information.

  But before you decide how you feel about something, ask yourself:

  “Is this my experience…or did I just inherit someone else’s?”

  Because sometimes the fear we’re carrying isn’t even ours.

  And maybe we need to hand it back.

  Let people have their experience.

  Let yourself have yours.

  And if you discover along the way that something isn’t working?

  You can always course correct.

  But don’t decide you can’t do something simply because someone else is afraid to.

  Until the next note,
  Your Resident Overthinker

  2026.09.04

• A Note From the Resident Overthinker: Be Careful Who You Take Advice From

  Note 039

  

  I was watching a clip from a therapist on YouTube the other day, and she said something so simple that I had to stop and think about it.

  “Stop taking advice from people who haven’t experienced where you want to go.”

  Simple, right?

  But my overthinking mind immediately started running with it.

  She gave an example that made perfect sense.

  She said if you want to go to Paris, why would you keep asking someone who has never been on a plane how to get there?

  Exactly.

  They may have an opinion.

  They may have heard stories.

  They may have watched videos.

  They may even have good intentions.

  But they haven’t been to Paris.

  They don’t know what it’s like to navigate the airport, get through customs, find transportation, figure out the language, or actually walk the streets of Paris.

  They can care about you.

  They can encourage you.

  They can even want the best for you.

  But they don’t have the experience you’re asking them to speak from.

  And I think this applies to so many areas of life.

  Be mindful of who you’re asking.

  If you’re trying to understand marriage, a married person’s perspective is going to be different from someone who has never been married.

  If you’re trying to navigate parenthood, a parent is going to have a different perspective than someone who has never raised a child.

  If you’re trying to enter a particular career or industry, there is value in speaking with someone who is actually working in that field.

  If you’re trying to build a business, talk to someone who has built one.

  If you’re trying to improve your finances, learn from someone who understands the financial goal you’re trying to reach.

  If you’re trying to change your life, sometimes you need to sit with people who have already made the changes you’re contemplating.

  Not because they know everything.

  They don’t.

  But because they’ve walked some portion of the road you’re considering.

  And that matters.

  Sometimes people will talk you out of the very thing you’re trying to accomplish.

  Not necessarily because they’re jealous.

  Not necessarily because they don’t love you.

  Sometimes it’s simply because they can’t see what they haven’t experienced.

  Imagine telling someone you want to run a marathon when they’ve never run a mile.

  They might immediately tell you how difficult it sounds.

  “That’s a lot of running.”

  “I don’t know how you’re going to do that.”

  “That’s going to take so much time.”

  “Why would you put yourself through that?”

  And technically…

  They aren’t wrong.

  It will be difficult.

  But they’re speaking from the perspective of someone standing outside the experience.

  Someone who has run marathons can tell you something different.

  They can tell you about training.

  The shoes.

  The soreness.

  The mental discipline.

  The setbacks.

  The early mornings.

  The days you don’t want to run.

  And also…

  what it feels like to cross that finish line.

  That’s the difference.

  There is a reason people who have walked similar roads find one another.

  Think about certain communities.

  Entrepreneurs gravitate toward entrepreneurs.

  Athletes understand athletes.

  Artists understand artists.

  Parents understand certain parenting experiences.

  People who have built careers in the same industries often understand the language, expectations and unspoken rules that come with those spaces.

  It’s not always about status.

  It’s about shared experience.

  There’s a certain shorthand that develops when you’ve lived something.

  You understand the language.

  The verbal.

  And sometimes the nonverbal.

  You understand the sacrifice that comes with the reward.

  You understand what people don’t necessarily see from the outside.

  And sometimes that’s exactly the person you need to talk to.

  But here’s where I think we need to be careful.

  I’m not saying you should completely dismiss advice from people who haven’t experienced what you’re trying to accomplish.

  That would be too simplistic.

  Sometimes the person who hasn’t walked your road can see something you can’t.

  Sometimes a completely different perspective is exactly what you need.

  And sometimes the person who has experienced what you’re going through can give terrible advice.

  Experience doesn’t automatically equal wisdom.

  That’s important.

  So this isn’t about deciding who is qualified to have an opinion.

  It’s about becoming more intentional about whose opinion you allow to influence your decisions.

  Because there is a difference between asking someone for perspective and allowing someone else’s limitations to become your limitations.

  And then I thought about grief.

  This one hit me differently.

  I lost my father at an early age.

  And when someone loses someone they love, people naturally want to comfort them.

  “I understand your pain.”

  “I know what you’re going through.”

  “I understand what you’re feeling.”

  Most of the time, it’s coming from a good place.

  People want you to know that you’re not alone.

  But I once had someone say something to me that I will never forget.

  They told me:

  “I empathize with you, but I don’t understand because I still have my father.”

  And you know what?

  I respected that honesty.

  Because they weren’t pretending.

  They weren’t trying to tell me they understood an experience they hadn’t lived.

  They were saying:

  I care about you. I can empathize with your pain. But I don’t know this particular pain.

  That’s a powerful distinction.

  And years later, when my husband lost his father, he said something that made me understand just how different lived experience can be.

  He said:

  “Now I know what you feel like.”

  He wasn’t saying he suddenly understood every detail of my experience.

  He was acknowledging that he had now entered a place he previously could only observe from the outside.

  And there are some experiences you simply cannot fully understand until you’ve lived them.

  Empathy, sympathy and experience aren’t the same thing.

  We can care about someone without understanding exactly what they’re experiencing.

  We can listen without having the answer.

  We can support someone without pretending we’ve walked their road.

  And we can acknowledge:

  “I haven’t experienced this, so I’m not going to pretend I know exactly what you should do.”

  That’s actually a beautiful form of humility.

  And perhaps we need more of it.

  So here’s my note.

  Before you make a major decision based on someone’s advice, ask yourself:

  Have they actually been where I’m trying to go?

  Do they understand the road?

  Have they experienced the sacrifices?

  Have they dealt with the consequences?

  Have they learned the lessons?

  Do they have something valuable to offer beyond an opinion?

  And most importantly:

  Am I taking their advice because it is wise—or because I am afraid and looking for permission to stay where I am?

  Ooooh.

  Now that’s a question for the overthinkers.

  Because sometimes we’re not really looking for advice.

  We’re looking for someone to confirm what we already believe.

  Or we’re looking for someone to tell us that the thing we’re afraid to do isn’t worth doing.

  And if we ask enough people who haven’t been where we’re going, eventually somebody will give us a reason not to go.

  But remember…

  They may simply be describing their road, not yours.

  Your dream may not make sense to them.

  Your next step may look risky to them.

  Your goals may seem unrealistic.

  Your choices may be completely different from theirs.

  That’s okay.

  You don’t need everyone to understand where you’re going.

  You just need to be thoughtful about who you let help you get there.

  So listen.

  Learn.

  Ask questions.

  Gather perspectives.

  But be intentional about the voices you give the most weight to.

  Because sometimes the person sitting beside you has never seen the destination you’re trying to reach.

  And that’s okay.

  Just don’t let their unfamiliarity with the destination convince you that you shouldn’t go.

  A Note for Today

  Take advice from people who can help you navigate the road—not people who are asking you to turn around because they’ve never been there.

  And if someone tells you, “I don’t know what that’s like, but I’m here for you,”…

  Don’t underestimate how valuable that honesty can be.

  Until the next note,
  Your Resident Overthinker

  2026.09.03

• A Note From the Resident Overthinker: Your Nonverbal Speaks Louder Than Your Verbal

  Note 038

  

  My husband said something this morning that immediately made my overthinking mind pause.

  We were talking about some friends who were having a few discussions, and I mentioned how easy it is now to communicate without actually being together.

  Text messages.

  Group chats.

  Phone calls.

  Voice notes.

  We can practically maintain an entire relationship without ever sitting across from one another.

  And that’s when I said:

  “Your nonverbal speaks louder than your verbal.”

  Well…

  There goes my morning.

  Because now I have a whole note to write.

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized how true that can be.

  You can tell me you’re listening.

  But are you looking at me?

  Are you asking questions?

  Are you engaged in the conversation?

  Do you look concerned when I’m telling you something difficult?

  Do you lean in?

  Do you seem distracted?

  Do you keep checking your phone?

  Do you look uncomfortable?

  Do you become defensive before I’ve even finished explaining myself?

  You’re saying one thing…

  But your body may be saying something completely different.

  And that’s the part we miss when so much of our communication happens through a screen.

  Sometimes you need to see the person.

  I’m not anti-texting.

  Trust me, I’m an overthinker. Give me a text message and I can reread it seventeen times trying to figure out what you meant by that period at the end.

  But texting has limitations.

  You can’t always see someone’s expression.

  You can’t hear the hesitation in their voice.

  You can’t see them process what you’ve said.

  You can’t tell whether they’re genuinely listening or simply waiting for their turn to respond.

  And sometimes those little things matter.

  Think about having a serious conversation with someone you love.

  They say:

  “I’m okay.”

  But their face doesn’t look okay.

  Their tone doesn’t sound okay.

  Their posture doesn’t look relaxed.

  Their eyes tell you something completely different.

  Now, does that automatically mean they’re lying?

  Absolutely not.

  And that’s important.

  Nonverbal communication isn’t mind reading.

  We shouldn’t assume we know exactly what someone is thinking simply because of a facial expression or gesture.

  But we can notice.

  We can pay attention.

  We can become curious instead of immediately creating a story in our heads.

  And Lord knows…

  overthinkers need to hear that part.

  Because there is a difference between observing someone’s behavior and creating an entire narrative around it.

  Someone crosses their arms.

  “They’re mad at me.”

  Someone doesn’t make eye contact.

  “They don’t respect me.”

  Someone takes a little longer to respond.

  “They’re upset.”

  Someone looks serious.

  “I knew they didn’t like what I said.”

  And before the person has even explained themselves, we’ve already written the beginning, middle and ending of the conversation.

  That’s not awareness.

  That’s overthinking.

  So maybe the lesson isn’t to analyze every gesture.

  Maybe the lesson is to pay attention without assuming.

  Your body is part of the conversation.

  Think about how you communicate without saying a word.

  Have you ever rolled your eyes while saying, “I’m listening”?

  Have you ever sighed while saying, “It’s fine”?

  Have you ever looked at the clock while someone was talking to you?

  Have you ever crossed your arms, turned your body away or started looking at your phone while someone was trying to tell you something important?

  You may not have said anything disrespectful.

  But you communicated something.

  And sometimes we need to be honest enough to ask ourselves:

  What am I saying without saying anything?

  Because this works both ways.

  We spend a lot of time analyzing how other people are showing up for us.

  But what about how we are showing up for them?

  Are we really listening?

  Are we making people feel heard?

  Are our facial expressions communicating irritation when we’re trying to communicate patience?

  Are we saying we’re supportive while our actions suggest otherwise?

  Are we telling someone we care while consistently making them feel like a burden?

  That’s where this note gets interesting.

  Because communication isn’t only about getting our message across.

  It’s also about understanding the message we’re sending.

  Maybe this is why personal interaction still matters.

  We live in a world where we can communicate with almost anyone instantly.

  And that’s wonderful.

  But there is something different about sitting across from someone.

  Having coffee.

  Sharing a meal.

  Taking a walk.

  Having a conversation in the same room.

  You get to experience the entire person.

  You hear the words.

  You hear the tone.

  You see the face.

  You notice the pauses.

  You see the reactions.

  You notice whether they’re listening or simply waiting.

  You get context.

  And sometimes that context changes everything.

  A text that sounds harsh may have been completely innocent.

  A short response may have come from someone having a difficult day.

  A serious expression may have nothing to do with you.

  And that’s why I think we have to be careful about making permanent conclusions from temporary observations.

  Pay attention—but don’t assume.

  Ask questions.

  Clarify.

  Listen.

  And when the relationship matters, sometimes put the phone down and sit across from the person.

  A Note for Today

  Your words matter.

  But so do your eyes.

  Your tone.

  Your posture.

  Your attention.

  Your reactions.

  Your presence.

  And sometimes the person you’re talking to isn’t only listening to what you’re saying.

  They’re experiencing how you’re saying it.

  So before you spend all your energy wondering what someone else’s nonverbal communication means…

  Take a look at your own.

  What are you saying when you’re not saying anything at all?

  That might be the conversation worth having.

  Until the next note,
  Your Resident Overthinker

  2026.09.02