Examining My Life Without Putting Myself on Trial.
What if the very thing I’ve spent years criticizing about myself is also the thing that gave me the courage to become who I truly am? I’ve been called an overthinker. And perhaps that’s fair.
I replay conversations that everyone else has probably forgotten. I question decisions I can no longer change. I search for meaning in silence, explanations for rejection, and answers to questions that may never have any.
I’ve spent seemingly countless hours wondering what I could have said differently, who I might have hurt, and whether I could somehow have prevented relationships I treasured from falling apart. Sometimes I think so deeply about my life that I forget to actually live it.
But lately, I’ve started to wonder whether I’ve been confusing introspection with overthinking while punishing myself for both.
I replay conversations long after they’ve ended. I question whether I said the right thing, whether I could have handled something differently, whether I’ve hurt someone without realizing it, or whether someone else’s hurtful words contained some truth I wasn’t willing to acknowledge.
I search for meaning in silence & try to understand why people pull away. I analyze relationships that have changed, friendships that have ended, and a marriage that has become something I never imagined it would be.
And sometimes, I exhaust myself doing it. That’s the overthinker in me.
But there might be another way to look at it…
Over the past year+, I’ve had to confront some incredibly difficult truths about myself. Transitioning hasn’t simply been about changing my outward appearance. It’s required me to examine nearly every aspect of my existence: my identity, my relationships, my beliefs, my fears, and the expectations I’ve carried for most of my life. I’ve questioned who I am, who I thought I was supposed to be, and how much of my life I’ve spent trying to make other people comfortable at the expense of my own happiness.
Eventually I’ve had to reconsider religious beliefs I once held deeply. I’ve had to accept that being honest about myself doesn’t guarantee that the people I love will understand me. And perhaps most painfully, I’ve had to confront the possibility that becoming the person I truly am might mean losing relationships I desperately wanted to keep.
There are days when I wonder whether I could have done something differently. Whether I could have explained myself better and could have been more patient, understanding, or somehow made this journey less painful for everyone involved. And sometimes I find myself trying to solve emotional problems that simply don’t have solutions.
That’s the overthinker in me, too.
But then there is what I’m beginning to understand:
The same mind that keeps me awake & questioning everything is also the mind that gave me the courage to question the life I was living. It’s the mind that challenged beliefs I’d accepted without examination, and the one that allowed me to recognize my own unhappiness rather than continuing to bury it.
It’s the mind that pushes me to understand people who disagree with me, even when their words are unkind. It keeps asking how I can become a better human being, a better parent, a better friend, and a better version of myself.
That’s the introspective woman in me.
The difference, I’m discovering, isn’t necessarily in how deeply I think, but It’s in what I do with those thoughts.
Overthinking asks, “What did I do wrong?”
Introspection asks, “What can I learn?”
Overthinking asks, “Why wasn’t I enough?”
Introspection asks, “Why am I allowing someone else’s acceptance to determine my worth?”
Overthinking asks, “What could I have done to make them stay?”
Introspection asks, “Why am I holding myself responsible for choices that weren’t entirely mine?”
And perhaps the hardest distinction of all:
Overthinking keeps searching for a way to change the past.
Introspection helps me find the courage to accept it.
The beauty of it all is that I’m not going to pretend I’ve mastered any of this.
I still struggle with rejection. There are plenty of moments when I grieve relationships that once meant everything to me. I continue to worry about how my transition affects the people I love, especially my family. And there are the times I still find myself investing far too much emotional energy in trying to be understood by people who may never be willing to understand me.
Sometimes I’m resilient, other times I’m exhausted.
Some days I’m confident in who I am, only to look in the mirror later and struggle to see the woman I’m becoming.
Sometimes I offer myself the same compassion I so readily extend to others, and then in the next moment I’m my own harshest critic.
But I’m realizing that being introspective doesn’t mean I have to turn every painful experience into an indictment of myself. I can acknowledge my mistakes without defining myself by them. We can recognize someone else’s pain without assuming responsibility for all of it. It’s fine to miss the people I’ve lost without believing that losing them makes me less worthy of love.
And I can continue growing without treating the person I was yesterday as someone who deserves punishment.
Maybe I’ll always be an overthinker to some degree. Maybe my mind will always search for meaning in places where there isn’t a satisfying answer. But I’m learning that I don’t have to interpret that tendency as a character flaw. Because the same depth of thought that sometimes causes me pain has also brought me closer to understanding who I really am.
I’m not trying to become someone who thinks less, but I strive to become someone who thinks more kindly about herself. That might be one of the most important lessons introspection has taught me so far:
I can examine my life without putting myself on trial.
I’m still learning. Still grieving. I am still growing. And, yes, I am still overthinking. But I’m also becoming.
And for today, that’s enough.
What about you? Have you ever discovered that something you considered your greatest weakness might actually be one of your greatest strengths?
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