How our assumptions influence the way we respond to people and situations, often without us realizing it.
Think about the last time you walked away from a conversation and started questioning how it went. Maybe someone responded differently than you expected. Their tone seemed a little off or they didn't react to something you said. At the time, you didn't think much of it. But later, you found yourself replaying the conversation and wondering whether something was wrong.
What started as a passing observation became a concern. The more you thought about it, the more convinced you became that something had happened. Eventually, you weren't just wondering whether the person was upset with you. You were beginning to believe they were.
Now imagine seeing that person the next day. Because you believe something is wrong, you act a little differently. You're more reserved, perhaps less friendly than usual. You might even avoid bringing up something you normally would have discussed.
The other person notices the change in your behavior and responds accordingly. Suddenly, a perfectly normal relationship feels uncomfortable.
And it's entirely possible that nothing was wrong in the first place.
This is something I've become increasingly interested in because it reveals an important part of how we operate: The stories we tell ourselves don't just affect how we feel. They can change what we actually do.
How an assumption becomes a decision
Our brains are constantly interpreting what's happening around us. We notice changes in people's behavior, recognize patterns and use past experiences to help us understand new situations. Much of this happens automatically, which is useful because we can't stop and carefully evaluate every interaction throughout the day.
The problem comes when we begin treating our interpretations as facts.
Consider a fairly common workplace situation. You share an idea during a meeting and your manager doesn't respond with much enthusiasm. You notice the reaction and wonder whether your idea was any good. Later, you think about the meeting again and decide your manager probably didn't like what you suggested.
That conclusion might seem harmless. After all, you're simply reflecting on something that happened at work.
But suppose you take it a little further. You begin questioning whether your manager values your input or trusts your judgment. By the next meeting, you've decided to keep your ideas to yourself rather than risk another disappointing response.
No one told you to stop contributing. Your manager never said your idea was bad. In fact, they may have been distracted by an unrelated issue and barely registered how they responded.
Yet you've changed your behavior based on a conclusion you reached without having enough information to support it.
This is where overthinking becomes more than an internal experience. It can begin influencing how we communicate, the opportunities we pursue and the decisions we make.
And because those decisions seem reasonable based on what we believe, we may never question how we arrived at them.
We can create the very situations we're worried about
One of the more interesting consequences of this pattern is that our reactions can sometimes contribute to the outcomes we fear.
Imagine believing that a friend is pulling away from you. Rather than asking what's going on, you decide to give them space. You stop initiating conversations and turn down an opportunity to get together because you don't want to feel rejected.
From your perspective, you're protecting yourself from someone who no longer seems interested in the friendship.
From your friend's perspective, however, you've suddenly become distant for no apparent reason. They may assume you're busy, or they might begin wondering whether you're upset with them.
Over time, the friendship actually does become less connected.
At that point, you might look at the distance between you and feel reassured that your original concern was correct. What you may not recognize is that your response to the assumption helped create some of the distance.
This doesn't mean we're responsible for how everyone else behaves, nor does it mean every relationship problem begins with a misunderstanding. People genuinely become distant. Circumstances change and sometimes our concerns are justified.
But there's an important distinction between noticing a possible problem and beginning to behave as though we've confirmed it.
When we don't recognize that difference, we risk allowing an imagined explanation to influence a very real situation.
Why uncertainty makes us uncomfortable
Part of the challenge is that most of us don't particularly enjoy not knowing.
When someone responds differently than expected, we want to understand why. When plans change unexpectedly, we look for an explanation. When a conversation ends without the reassurance we hoped for, we may continue analyzing it long after it's over.
Our minds would often rather settle on an explanation than leave a question unanswered.
And once we settle on an explanation, we naturally begin evaluating what it means for us.
Perhaps the person is upset. If they're upset, maybe we've done something wrong. If we've done something wrong, there could be consequences.
Each conclusion feels connected to the previous one, making the overall story seem increasingly believable.
In my book, Most Likely, You're Fine, I call this process stacking. It happens when we begin building assumptions on top of an actual event until we're responding to what we think is happening rather than what we know.
What's especially important is that stacking doesn't require an extreme situation. We don't have to imagine losing our jobs or ending a relationship for it to affect us. Sometimes the consequences are much smaller and easier to overlook.
We might hesitate before speaking up. We might send an unnecessary apology. We might spend an evening feeling irritated with someone who has no idea anything is wrong.
Individually, these moments may not seem significant. But when they happen repeatedly, they can begin shaping how we interact with the world.
How to separate what happened from what you believe happened
Recognizing this pattern doesn't mean dismissing your instincts or assuming everything is fine. Sometimes something really is wrong, and there are situations where our concerns deserve immediate attention.
The objective is to become more accurate about what we know before deciding how to respond.
One way to do that is to separate the situation into three parts: what happened, what you believe it means and what you're considering doing because of that belief.
Let's return to the example of the manager who didn't respond enthusiastically to your idea.
The event itself is relatively straightforward. You shared an idea and received little reaction.
Your interpretation is that your manager didn't like it.
The decision you're considering is to stop offering suggestions during meetings.
When you look at those elements separately, you can see that the decision depends on an assumption. The manager's reaction may have indicated a lack of interest, but it could also have meant something entirely different. You simply don't have enough information yet.
That doesn't mean you should ignore the situation. You could follow up with your manager and ask for feedback. You could continue contributing as usual and see whether a pattern develops. Or you could decide that one lukewarm response doesn't require any action.
The difference is that you're making a conscious decision rather than allowing an unconfirmed interpretation to make it for you.
I find this especially useful because it doesn't require forcing myself to think positively. If I suspect something is wrong, I don't have to convince myself otherwise. I can acknowledge the concern while recognizing that I don't yet know whether it's true.
There's a lot of freedom in being able to say, "That's one possibility, but I don't have enough information to know."
Paying attention to what happens next
Most of us have been encouraged at some point to stop overthinking. It's advice that sounds reasonable but doesn't offer much direction when you're already caught up in a situation.
I've found it more useful to pay attention to what happens after I begin making assumptions.
Am I changing how I treat someone because of something I believe they meant? Am I avoiding an opportunity because I've already imagined an unfavorable outcome? Am I preparing for a difficult conversation that no one has actually initiated?
These questions help me recognize when a story is moving beyond my thoughts and beginning to influence my behavior.
Sometimes the most appropriate response is to ask for clarification. Other times, it's to continue with my day rather than give an uncertain situation more attention than it deserves.
Of course, there will still be moments when my initial interpretation turns out to be correct. Learning to recognize stacking doesn't mean becoming less observant or ignoring genuine warning signs. It means being willing to distinguish between what has been established and what remains uncertain.
And sometimes that distinction is enough to change what happens next.
A different way to respond
We can't control every thought that enters our minds, and we certainly can't control how other people will behave. What we can become more aware of is the point where our interpretation of an event begins influencing our decisions.
That's the moment worth paying attention to.
Because while the original situation may be outside our control, we often have more choice in our response than we realize.
The next time you find yourself questioning someone's behavior or anticipating how a situation might unfold, consider whether you've begun making decisions based on information you don't actually have.
You may discover that your concern is justified and something needs to be addressed.
Or you may realize that the situation itself hasn't changed at all. Only the story you've been telling yourself about it has.
Before you respond to what you think is happening, make sure you understand what actually happened.
Sometimes that simple distinction can prevent a small uncertainty from becoming a much bigger problem.
Most Likely, You're Fine
Stop Stacking and Start Living in What's Real
In Most Likely, You're Fine, Erin Beidle explores how everyday situations become stories we build in our minds and how recognizing those stories can help us respond to what's actually happening.
Recognize yourself in this?
Stacking is one example of what can happen in the space between an event and your response.
My work goes beyond the book. I work with people who want to understand how they operate under pressure, recognize the patterns affecting how they respond and make small, practical changes in what they do next.