Overthinking doesn’t knock before it enters. It comes in quietly, rearranging my thoughts until nothing feels simple anymore. Overthinking such a small word for something that feels so heavy. It sneaks in quietly and takes over before I realize it’s there. It replays conversations like a broken record, twisting my words until I’m convinced I said the wrong thing. It’s distorting the truth, making me feel alone in a room full of people. Simple choices, what to wear, what to eat for dinner, turn into roadblocks, slowing me down as if every decision carries consequences I can’t see.

What most people don’t notice is how overthinking bleeds into everything. It follows me into my schoolwork, my friendships, my relationships. It’s overthinking and getting fearful of missing out. It's not just about wanting to be invited, it's the fear that if I don't go to that one event, I will lose my place in the group. Sometimes staying home to rest or finish homework is what I truly need, but the fear of missing out pulls me in, even in places I don’t want to be pulled into. It can get exhausting, like I have to be everywhere, when I just want a break. I felt trapped, stuck in my own head, overwhelmed by thoughts that wouldn’t let go.

Going to Young Life the summer of junior year ended up shifting my perspectives. I have been going to Young Life Camp since 7th grade, and it's always the highlight of my summer. But going into junior year is something that felt different, off. I didn't want to go. I was afraid I would be the odd one out, standing on the sidelines while everyone else belonged.

The night before we left, I packed with shaking hands and a racing heart. Anxiety filled every corner of my room. I was dreading the trip to a camp, where I knew no one, ( though in reality, many of my close friends would be there). It felt like two friend groups were going, and I was somehow stuck in the middle of both but part of neither. Group chats were mentioned in front of me, plans were made around me, and invitations never quite reached me. All of this made the idea of going to camp feel terrifying.

On the bus ride there, regret sat heavy in my chest. I wondered if I had made the wrong choice. But as it turned out, that fear lived only in my head. Camp surprised me. I laughed more than I expected, connected more than I planned, and felt grateful that I didn’t let my thoughts stop me. I still struggled with my thoughts at camp, but being surrounded by people made me feel loved.

Before my leader knew anything about my story, she gave me a word, hope, exactly what I needed. Hope to me was the reminder that there's still light at the end of the tunnel, even when the tunnel feels endless. When I shared my story with her, I realized how much that word had already begun to change me. I started to choose to look through that lens, hoping that all the experiences that I went through were just shaping me to see others.

I had always wanted to become a Young Life leader, and this and this shift in perspective helped me see why. The struggles I faced gave me the ability to notice other girls, the ones who feel lost, unseen, or alone. Girls who just need someone to sit beside them. I could instill hope in these girls as my leader did to me. The biggest growth was for me to let go, to see setbacks as setups. We can all help other people get past roadblocks and move on. I learned hope, and I will never forget it.

© Payton. All rights reserved. If you are interested in quoting this story, contact the national team and we can put you in touch with the author’s teacher.