The Gift of Overthinking

My whole life, I’ve struggled with what I used to think were just simple worries. I often wondered why other people didn’t feel the same deep concern about things that seemed so obviously risky to me.

Let me draw you a picture.

It’s a crisp autumn day, and we’ve decided to drive up to the Adelaide Hills to have lunch at a cozy restaurant. As soon as we arrive, my husband parks the car under a lovely shaded spot. If you’re anything like me, you’ve already guessed what’s coming. “Under the shade” means a big tree, with big branches. All I can see is one of those branches falling and crushing the car.

We walk into the restaurant. There’s a beautiful fireplace crackling away, and my friends want to sit close to it. They start layering off their coats and scarves and hang everything on the backs of their chairs. Meanwhile, my brain has already run through a scenario involving the jackets catching fire, spreading to the table, and starting a blaze. Thank God it’s not summer, or I’d already be halfway through mentally managing a bushfire evacuation.

All of this: the tree, the fireplace, the imaginary disasters, that’s just what my brain saw in the first two minutes. And that doesn’t even include the dozens of dangers I silently scanned for during the drive. People would talk to me, and I’d nod and smile with rehearsed replies, all while mentally assessing, avoiding, and reacting to every perceived threat in the environment. It was exhausting!

A quiet fire. A tree in the wind. To some, just scenery, to me, a lesson in seeing risk where others don’t

For years, I got frustrated with others for “making” me feel this way. But eventually, I learned the truth: it wasn’t them. It was me. I have anxiety.

Naming it has been liberating. And being open about it has allowed me to take control. I ask my husband to park in a safer spot, even if it means coming back to a very hot car. I gently ask my friends to move their jackets to a safer place. That awareness, paired with the ability to calmly act on it, has been transformative. And, unexpectedly, it has become one of my greatest strengths.

In my previous role, I was responsible for overseeing risk management operations in a school setting. It was a natural fit. I could see the things others might miss, the small cracks, the loose ends, the gaps in systems, and I knew how to close them. I made it clear to my colleagues that risk awareness was something that came instinctively to me, not from a place of paranoia, but from a genuine drive to protect people and ensure things ran smoothly.

I used that awareness to support my team in building systems that were compliant and manageable. I didn’t want to create a culture of fear. I wanted to create a culture of preparedness, one where people felt supported, not overwhelmed, by policies and processes.

Now, as I continue my career in people-focused roles, whether in HR, operations, or compliance, I bring this lens with me. I use it to create safer workplaces, to foresee challenges before they escalate, and to build thoughtful procedures that actually work for the people using them.

So, if you’ve ever felt like your brain works a little differently, that you see too much, worry too much, care too much, maybe it’s worth looking at that again. Maybe what feels like a struggle now is actually your superpower, waiting to be understood, shaped, and shared.