How I Stopped Overthinking Every Decision

I used to overthink everything, in a quiet and constant way that made even small decisions feel heavier than they needed to be, as if every choice said something final about who I was or whether I was getting life right.

Each decision felt like a test. What if I picked the wrong option, disappointed someone, or regretted it later. And the more I thought about it, the less clarity I had, until I found myself frozen between options, mentally exhausted before I had even started.

What I eventually learned is that overthinking rarely leads to better decisions, even though it feels productive in the moment, because what it mostly creates is delay, doubt, and a false sense of control.

I still think things through, but I no longer let my mind spiral endlessly, and what changed was not sudden confidence, but learning how to interrupt the patterns that kept me stuck.

The first thing I check now is whether my hesitation comes from clarity or from fear, because those two often feel similar even though they are not the same. Sometimes something feels off because it truly is not aligned, while other times it feels uncomfortable simply because growth usually is. Discomfort is not automatically a stop sign.

When I notice myself hesitating, I ask what the worst realistic outcome might be and whether I could actually handle it if it happened, and most of the time the answer is yes, because while it might be awkward or inconvenient, it is rarely catastrophic.

I also remind myself that many decisions are not permanent, even if my nervous system treats them as if they are, and that there is usually room to try, learn, and adjust. Staying stuck, on the other hand, guarantees only one thing, which is wasted time and energy.

When my thoughts really start looping, I zoom out and ask whether this will still matter in six months or in six years, because if it will not, it probably does not deserve this much mental space.

One tool I return to often is the hell yes rule. If something is not a clear yes, it is a no or at least a not now, which helps me trust my own sense of alignment instead of endlessly crowdsourcing my decisions.

Because too much input, however well meant, has a way of drowning out your own voice, and that voice only gets clearer when you practice listening to it.

I do not always get it right, and I still spiral sometimes, but I have learned this. Clarity does not always come before action. Sometimes it only comes once you move.

So now I try to move a little faster than I used to, not because I am fearless, but because I trust that I can handle the outcome either way.