Why Capable Women Overthink and What Self-Trust Looks Like

I have a lot of opinions.

Okay, okay. I have a shitload of opinions.

Some I’ve earned through experience. Some I learned the hard way. Some have changed dramatically over the years, and a few probably don’t need to be said out loud. Apparently, we’re going to say those too.

But lately, there’s one thing I cannot stop thinking about:

How many smart, capable women don’t trust themselves to make a damn decision.

Women who have raised families, built careers, survived divorces, managed households, solved problems, and carried other people through the hardest moments of their lives. Women who can tell a friend exactly what she needs to do, then spend three days investigating a decision of their own. Women who already have an answer but keep asking around, hoping somebody will make it feel less terrifying.

I know these women because I am one of them.

We keep calling ourselves indecisive

I don’t think that tells the whole story.

I’ve made hard decisions when life needed an answer right fucking now. But when a decision was about what I wanted? Suddenly, I needed more time. More information. Another opinion.

One final sign from the universe, preferably delivered in writing with supporting documentation.

Maybe you know the routine.

You’ve thought it through. You’ve opened seventeen browser tabs, listened to three podcasts, and searched Reddit for a stranger who experienced the exact same situation in 2019.

Then you ask your best friend. And your sister. And the person at work who always seems so certain about everything.

There are times when you genuinely need advice or information. Take them. But sometimes you’re asking because you don’t trust yourself to stand behind the answer you already have.

• What if I’m wrong?

• What if I regret it?

• What if someone gets upset?

• What if I choose this and something better comes along?

Overthinking takes a decision and turns it into a full-blown investigation. It convinces you that if you examine it long enough, from enough angles, you can guarantee the outcome.

Except you can’t.

No decision comes with a guarantee

You can gather information. Weigh your options. Think about what matters to you. Make the best decision you can with what you know right now.

Eventually, though, you have to choose.

I think part of what scares us is what happens after we choose. We want to know we won’t regret it, disappoint anyone, fail, or have to change direction later.

Nobody can promise us that. So we keep thinking. And thinking. And thinking.

Meanwhile, our lives sit in the waiting room.

How did we stop trusting ourselves?

I don’t think it happened overnight.

Maybe it happened one tiny compromise at a time. Every time we said yes when we wanted to say no. Every time we kept quiet because speaking up would make someone uncomfortable. Every time we dismissed what we wanted because someone else sounded more certain.

We got used to listening outward.

What do the kids need? What does my partner want? What will my boss think? What would a responsible person do? What will everyone say?

Those questions can matter. The trouble starts when we ask all of them and forget to ask what we think. After a while, our own voice gets harder to hear because everyone else has the microphone. Then, when an honest answer finally shows up, overthinking rolls in with a 47-slide presentation explaining why that answer might destroy our entire lives.

The little minions in our heads start waving their warning signs.

CAUTION. SOMEONE MIGHT BE DISAPPOINTED. YOU COULD LOOK STUPID. THIS MIGHT BE UNCOMFORTABLE.

Maybe it will be uncomfortable.

Don’t run. That’s usually where the interesting shit starts.

Self-trust doesn’t mean always getting it right

People talk about trusting yourself as if you reach some magical point where you always know what to do and glide through life making flawless decisions.

Jesus Christ. Imagine?!

That’s not what I mean.

To me, self-trust means knowing you can deal with yourself if you get something wrong. You can make a decision and change your mind later. You can try something and discover it isn’t for you. You can disappoint someone without abandoning yourself.

You can make a mistake without making yourself the mistake.

Think about the hard things you’ve already figured out. You may not have liked every outcome. You may have wished you’d chosen differently. But you’re here, and you learned what you needed to do next.

That counts.

Start with one tiny promise

I don’t think you can reason yourself into trusting yourself. Believe me, I’ve tried. You build trust by giving yourself something to stand on.

Make one small promise and keep it. Say no when you mean no. Choose the restaurant without polling everybody. Send the email. Stop reopening a decision you’ve already made. Let something be good enough.

Then pay attention.

I said I would do something, and I did it. That’s one piece of evidence. Not a grand declaration. Not a completely new personality by Monday.

One tiny promise at a time.

This is the shit I can’t shut up about

Why do capable women ask everyone else to approve the lives they have to live? Why does saying no require a freaking three-paragraph apology? Why do we trust somebody else’s confident answer more than our own quiet one? And what happens when we finally back ourselves?

That’s what I want to talk about here. Overthinking. Self-trust. People-pleasing. Decisions that keep us awake. The little promises that help us believe our own word again.

I’m not writing from the finish line. I still catch myself reopening decisions that were already made. I still sometimes ask for an opinion when what I really want is permission. I’m learning to notice when I do it. Then I’m learning to choose anyway.

My Nan used to say, “What odds?” It was her way of telling us to stop worrying about what might happen and get on with living.

That woman may have summed it all up in two words.

Make the decision. Trust yourself with what happens next. Let it ride.

See you in the wash,

Ness