If You’re Going to Overthink, Overthink the Positives

Jan 9

I’m an over-thinker. My mind can take a neutral moment—an unanswered message, a slower-than-expected timeline, a slightly different tone—and turn it into a story that feels certain. If there are five explanations on the table, my brain has a talent for choosing the one that carries the most weight.

This year, I’m making a deliberate shift—one I’m also offering as coaching guidance:

If you’re going to overthink, overthink the positives.

Not because nothing can go wrong. Plenty can. Not because you can control everything. You can’t. People get busy. Priorities shift. Decisions get delayed for reasons you’ll never see. Projects hit dependencies. Markets wobble. Kids get sick. Bodies get tired. Sometimes the variable is simply “life.”

But here’s the part that matters: the story you tell yourself about what’s happening changes how you show up inside it.

And that’s the real point.

Negative overthinking makes you smaller

When I overthink the negative, my behavior subtly changes. I hesitate. I brace. I withdraw. I seek reassurance instead of taking action. I stop being creative and start being careful. I’m not just predicting a bad outcome—I’m rehearsing it, emotionally and practically, and that rehearsal leaks into what I do next.

Even when the situation is genuinely uncertain, negative certainty tends to narrow my options. It makes me less willing to influence the outcome because I’ve already decided what it means.

Positive overthinking is strategic, not naive

Overthinking the positives isn’t pretending everything is fine. It’s choosing a mental stance that keeps you engaged—and therefore more likely to shape a better outcome.

Because when I genuinely entertain, “What if this goes well?” I do different things:

I follow up with clarity instead of anxiety.
I ask the direct question instead of making assumptions.
I stay warm instead of getting defensive.
I keep building instead of pausing for proof.
I take the next step that increases the odds.

Optimism, in this framing, isn’t a mood. It’s a posture. It’s the decision to stay in the arena.

“What if it went well?” is a lever

When my mind starts spiraling into the worst interpretation, I’m practicing a new interruption:

What if it went well?

Not in a magical-thinking way. In a practical way—one that leads to action.

What if the silence is timing, and the answer is yes—how would I follow up?

What if the slow pace is just the pace of something real—what would I do to strengthen it?

What if this conversation didn’t land perfectly, but it’s recoverable—what would I say next?

What if I’m closer than I think—what would I do today that supports the outcome I want?

This question doesn’t guarantee success. It does something more important: it keeps me participating.

And participation is how you influence outcomes.

A simple practice I’m using

When I catch myself pigeonholing on the negative, I do this:

Name the story my brain is telling.
Offer an equally plausible positive story.
Ask what actions the positive story would invite.
Do one small action that increases the odds of the good outcome.

That’s it. That’s the loop.

Because even when external variables are real, there’s almost always some lever I can pull: a clearer ask, a better boundary, one more rep, a calmer tone, a follow-up, a request for feedback, a plan B.

Positive overthinking helps me find the lever instead of staring at the risk.

The point isn’t positivity. It’s agency.

I’m not trying to become someone who never worries. I’m trying to become someone who doesn’t let worry write the script.

So yes—some things will go wrong that are outside your control. That’s true.

But if your mind is going to run simulations anyway, don’t only rehearse failure. Rehearse the version where things work out—and then behave like a person who believes that’s possible.