The Loop: When Mischaracterized Pride Leads to Overanalyzing

A few days ago, I was having a conversation with a friend. She shared that she’d been thinking about me and concluded that I tend to overanalyze things. She said it often leaves me frozen in my ideas rather than moving toward the manifested reality God has planned for me.

My response?

“You’re right.”

Truth be told, she didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. I have inquired of God about who I am to Him. I have asked Him to allow me to see myself the way He sees me. He has. And I believe Him.

Still, one of the things that frustrates me most about myself is knowing—brilliantly and clearly—how gifted I am, while not always fully operating in it.

A little over ten years ago, I began a self-love journey. My confidence skyrocketed. Unfortunately, so was how often that confidence was misunderstood. Over time, I found myself overexplaining—again and again—in an attempt to make others comfortable.

You see, I am deeply familiar with the loneliness of never feeling like I “fit”… anywhere. As a result, I made it my life’s mission to ensure I never made others feel the way I so often had. The problem is, in prioritizing the comfort of others, I slowly began diminishing my own brilliance.

To know me is to know that I only desire to be the best version of myself. It also means I want the same for others—especially women. But what time and pain have taught me is how often people would rather assume than inquire.

I’m a little on the nosy side, so I ask the uncomfortable questions—not to gather information to use against people (I carry far too much conviction for that), but because I genuinely want to know people for real.

That conversation struck me deeply. So, I began to analyze—yes, it works for me sometimes—where that feeling may have originated. Of course, most of it is rooted in childhood trauma. More specifically, it comes from the belief that boundaries are somehow prideful.

I understand that, for some people, they can be. However, there are many mislabeled individuals who now live in constant self-surveillance, afraid that asserting themselves will be interpreted as pride.

I believe many people remain in abusive situations because they were first taught, “We’re family.”

For many of us, boundary destruction is generational. There are family histories marked by drugs, alcohol, molestation, and other forms of trauma. As a result, many of us have spent our lives trying to fix the external world while suppressing internal suffering.

So the question became unavoidable for me:

What has this mischaracterization of pride done to my mental health?

I'm in pursuit of the answer!

Call to Action

If any of this felt familiar, I want you to slow down for a moment.

Not to dissect it. Not to fix it. Just to sit with it.

Because some of us didn’t become overthinkers by accident.

We became careful.

We became watchful.

We learned that being confident could cost us connection.

So ask yourself—without judgment:

• When did I start believing that having boundaries made me prideful?

• How often do I second-guess myself after moments of clarity?

• Where has my self-awareness quietly turned into self-policing?

And maybe the hardest question of all:

What has this way of thinking done to my mental and emotional health?

If you’re honest, you might realize that overanalyzing hasn’t been about wisdom at all.

It’s been about safety.

Belonging.

Not wanting to be misunderstood again.

But clarity doesn’t need permission.

Boundaries aren’t disrespect.

And knowing who you are isn’t arrogance.

If this resonates, I invite you to reflect whether in the comments, your journal, or in prayer:

Where have I been shrinking to keep the peace?

What would it look like to trust myself a little more today?

You don’t have to have all the answers.

You don’t have to explain yourself better.

You don’t have to earn the right to move forward.

Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is stop questioning what God has already made clear.

If this spoke to you, save it. Share it with someone who’s been carrying this quietly. And remind yourself... you’re not too much. You’re just learning how to stop abandoning yourself.

You’re allowed to move.

Even without everyone’s understanding.