Don't Overthink It - Anne Bogel Page 0,4

even after all these years, I don’t expect to never overthink. But I’m happy to succeed a significant percentage of the time—so often, in fact, that from the outside it may even appear that not overthinking comes naturally to me.

But appearances don’t tell the whole story.

This idea was captured by advertisers in a long-running cosmetics campaign built around what is now the most recognizable phrase in 150 years of advertising: “Maybe she’s born with it. Maybe it’s Maybelline.” When I was a kid, I loved these ads. They always showed a beautiful, well-dressed woman, prompting the viewer to wonder if her face looked like that when she woke up or if she relied on Maybelline makeup to get “the look.” (Although, even as a kid, it was clear the answer was Maybelline, every time.)

So it goes with overthinking—or, more accurately, not overthinking. Maybe we look at someone who appears to never doubt herself and think, I wish I could be like that. Or worse, I’ll never be like that. She never seems to get pulled into negative thought patterns or to second-guess herself, so why do we? We may assume she was born that way. But what if she wasn’t? What if she had to slowly learn, bit by bit?

I admire people who belong in the former camp, but I belong to the latter. It may look effortless now, but trust me—I’ve had to learn. And so can you. Perfection isn’t possible, but change totally is.

Begin to Describe Yourself Differently

In my first book, Reading People, I write about how the way we see ourselves has enormous implications for how we live our lives. “I’m the kind of person who _____” is a powerful statement, no matter what goes in that blank. A shift in our sense of identity—that is, a shift in how we fill in that blank—can cause massive changes in our behavior, almost instantly.

Beginning now, I don’t want you to describe yourself as a chronic overthinker. Don’t call yourself that, not even in your own head. Overthinking is no longer part of your identity, though it may be a behavior you’re engaging in right now. Instead, begin to describe yourself—if only in your head—as someone who:

Is capable of experiencing less decision angst and more joy and peace

Can learn to make confident, competent decisions

Doesn’t need to habitually second-guess herself

Is learning how to filter out the unimportant, unhealthy, and unhelpful

Is developing strategies for stopping overthinking in its tracks

Is becoming equipped to gracefully pivot when things don’t go as planned

Can put overthinking aside to welcome good things into her life

Shifting your mindset is just the first step, but it’s an important one. Now you’ve got some work to do. Improvement won’t happen on its own, and it won’t happen overnight, but it will happen.

How I Began to Change the Way I See Myself

Two years after I graduated from college, the Twin Towers collapsed. I wasn’t close to New York City when it happened; I was on an airplane headed that way from Prague. Hours after departing the Czech Republic, our plane was turned around and sent back to Europe, where, through an unlikely confluence of tragedy and simple bad luck involving 9/11, a bee sting, an allergy, and a German emergency room, I began suffering panic attacks for the first time in my life.

Weeks later, when I finally made it back to the United States, I followed up with my doctor. He told me my experience was common: my elevated stress levels after 9/11 made me susceptible to a full-blown panic attack, triggered by the bee sting. He said we needed to dial down my stress response, and fast, because panic attacks beget more panic attacks. With each one I experienced, I etched grooves in my nervous system that made it that much easier to have another—and another. I didn’t want my body to memorize that route.

My doctor prescribed anxiety and blood pressure meds and sent me on my way, but as we said goodbye, he made an offhand comment that changed my life. “The mental arena isn’t my area of expertise,” he said, “but I know this: your thoughts can be the enemy, or you can make them your ally.”

I was intrigued by his observation. I didn’t fully grasp what it meant or how to put it into practice, but I understood that my thoughts were intimately connected to my health and well-being—something I’d not previously thought much about—and that exploring this connection was paramount. I set out on an