I’ve overed my whole life. It was just how I operated. I didn’t have a word for it yet, and I certainly couldn’t see it, but I overed. Therapists told me I was trying to fill my bucket. And my bucket had a hole in it.

Overdoing. Overgiving. Overthinking. Overspending. Overcommitting. Overworking. Overindulging. Overing.

The list keeps going. For a long time, I lived inside almost every overing without realizing there was a name for what was happening. They were all running in my life. And depending on the moment, it felt like they were ruining my life.

I didn’t recognize it, but overing was running my life. I was the Overing Queen, and I lived in Overing Land.

About 12 years ago, I started on what I now think of as my Learning Journey. I went searching, trying to understand myself, and I found tools I believed in because when I used them, it helped me. I felt better.

I invested in the tools. I trained and got certified in tapping (EFT), breathwork, life, and business coaching. I used the tools, and my overing eased up somewhat. Life was better. I slept better. I felt better. People noticed. I started sharing my tools because they helped me so much. I worked with my students, and I took on clients. I guided them to a place where they felt better, too.

The thing is, the overing was better, but I still didn’t understand it. I thought, and was often told, that something was wrong with me. Maybe the Trauma had broken me? So, I continued to use my tools, trying to “fix” myself.

It sucks to walk around, functioning well, looking very successful, when inside doesn’t feel that way. But I was better, and that ain’t nothing! My overing eased up some. But I still didn’t understand where it came from.

And then, about five years ago, a friend told me about human design. I got curious. I had a reading. It was okay. Interesting. Not life-changing. I started to learn more. I had another reading. The glimmer of recognition was starting to shine. I learned more and integrated it, and wowsa! It was as if someone handed me the map to myself.

For the first time, I could see where my overing tendencies came from. Guess what? It WASN’T my Trauma! That map didn’t just describe me, it explained me. Once I GOT it, and really saw it, I couldn’t unsee it. I continued to study and started to work with people, sharing what I was learning. The more I understood myself, the more I recognized in the women I worked with.

Most of the women were high-capacity, capable women: the ones who hold everything together, who everyone counts on because they can. Maybe this is you? A lot of these women were releasing their pressure through money. Spending, avoiding, controlling, carrying, releasing, in ways that had nothing to do with the number in their bank account and everything to do with the pressure they were holding. And because money behavior is so easy to misread, these same women were misunderstood. Sometimes shamed. Sometimes even misdiagnosed.

That’s the work I do now. I help capable, successful women see and understand their own overing habits, and how those habits run their lives behind the scenes. They usually aren’t at a breaking point or burnt out; they just feel…like I did. Like, everything looks great on the outside. People even comment on what a great life you have. But inside is your dirty little secret, because your inside feels…off. Like it doesn’t match your outside. So we work together. I help them move forward on their Road to Better.

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So, what exactly IS overing?

Overing is my term for the high-functioning habit of doing, giving, fixing, proving, indulging, and perfecting. It costs you your peace, your energy, your joy. It’s fucking sneaky because from the outside, it looks, smells, sounds, and tastes like success. But it doesn’t FEEL like success because on the inside, you’re losing yourself one overing at a time.

Here’s the part I want you to get, to REALLY get: overing isn’t who you are. Let’s say it again: overing isn’t who you are. It’s a habit you picked up along the way. It probably worked for a while. It kept you safe. Needed. Respected. In control. It made sense. You identified with it. Overing may even have defined you. It just isn’t serving you anymore.

Eight Overing Habits I See Most Frequently

Overthinking: “I can’t stop spinning in my head.”

Overgiving: “I say yes when I mean no.”

Overworking: “If I slow down, it won’t get done or I’ll fall behind.”

Overcommitting: “There’s just not enough of me to go around. I need to clone myself.”

Over-perfecting: “It has to be flawless before I can share it or submit it.”

Over-adapting: “I shrink or shift to keep the peace.”

Override mode: “I push past what I feel, and I don’t stop until I crash.”

Overindulging: “I do this/need this to cope, even when I end up feeling worse.”

Slowly read through that list again. I’d bet at least one of them stopped you.

If it did, here’s what I want you to know: this isn’t a character flaw (although some will say it is). It’s not proof that you’re too much or not enough (although some will say you are). It’s a habit you learned, and on some level, it worked for you. What’s learned can be unlearned. You get to leave Overing Land and live at “Better.” Like, on the Road to Better.

Ask yourself which one of these habits is costing you the most energy right now? And what would life feel like if you unlearned that habit?

If This Sounds Like Your Life

You don’t have to figure this out on your own, and you definitely don’t have to keep toughing your way through it.

I host a free call called “When You’re Capable…and Something Feels Off,” for women whose lives look completely fine to everyone else but don’t feel that way on the inside. We’ll talk through what’s running in the background of your life and what your next step could look like. No pitch. No pressure. Just a real conversation with someone who sees you and understands you.

Book Your "When You're Capable" Call

Warmly,

Linda

The way you relate to it?
That’s where things get complicated.

There’s a reason money feels harder than it should.

Not because you’re bad with money.
Not because you need another budget, strategy, or system.

It feels challenging… because the way you handle money…
is the same way you handle everything else.

You just do it. Automatically. In the background. Without questioning it.

And it works—until it doesn’t.

It looks fine on the outside

I see this all the time with capable women.

You’re the one who:

• steps in before anyone asks

• figures it out

• makes sure everything gets handled

So of course you can manage money.

And from the outside?
It probably looks like you are.

But inside… it feels different.

There’s pressure.
There’s second-guessing.
There’s that low, constant sense of:

“Why does this feel so hard for me?”

It’s not about money

It’s about what you’ve gotten used to doing with

· responsibility

· support

· change

Three patterns I want you to notice:

1. What you carry

You don’t just handle your own responsibilities.

You carry things that were never fully yours:

• other people’s needs

• unspoken expectations

• the invisible work no one tracks but you

So, when money comes in…

It doesn’t feel like it’s yours to hold.

It already has a job.
A purpose.
A place to go.

Before you’ve even had a moment to breathe with it.

2. What you allow in

Let me ask you something simple.

When something good comes your way: money, support, an opportunity.

Do you let it land?

Or do you immediately:

• justify it

• earn it

• match it

• prove you deserve it

Most of the women I work with don’t struggle with giving.

They struggle with receiving without turning it into another responsibility.

A quick example

You run into Target for “just a few things.”

You grab what you came for.
And then a few other things you just remembered you need.
And then a few more.

It’s not reckless.
It’s not out of control.

It’s almost… automatic.

You don’t fully feel it while you’re doing it.

But later, when you see the total, there’s that moment of:

“Wait… how did it get that high?”

That’s not a budgeting issue.

That’s a pattern of delayed awareness.

The same pattern that shows up when:

• you say yes before thinking

• you take something on before checking if it’s yours

• you realize after the fact that it was too much

Money just happens to be one of the places the pattern shows up.

3. What you won’t let go of

This one’s sneakier, and it’s the one that keeps everything in the same place:

• old roles

• outdated expectations

• ways of doing things that used to work… but don’t anymore

You can feel it when something has run its course, but instead of letting it go, you:

• hold on a little longer

• adjust around it

• keep trying to make it work

And money follows that pattern, too.

Because if nothing changes…
nothing really changes.

This is the pattern

This is what I call a capacity pattern.

Not a money problem.

A pattern in how much you:

• carry

• allow in

• release

And here’s the part most people miss:

Trying harder doesn’t change this.

You shift it by seeing it clearly.

And then you start to notice things like…

· “Oh… I don’t let anything land and stick around.”

· “Oh… I take on more before I even think about it.”

· “Oh… I’m still holding things that are already over.”

You can start to choose differently.

Not all at once.
Not perfectly.

But intentionally.

Where this starts to change

Money gets easier when your life stops running on autopilot.

When you:

• pause before stepping in

• let something support you without balancing it out

• allow something to end without replacing it immediately

That’s where things start to change.

Not because you learned a new strategy.

But because you stopped running the same pattern in a different area.

You don’t have a money problem.

You have a pattern that’s been working overtime for years.

It has become the internal operating system that runs your life.

Money is just where it finally became visible.

I’ve been noticing something about myself lately.

I’ve been holding back.

Not in an obvious way. Not in a “doing nothing” way.
But in a quieter, more subtle way…

Waiting.

Waiting to have the audience.
Waiting to have “my people.”
Waiting for some external signal that it’s time to fully step in.

And I see now—that thinking is completely backward.

I don’t become the leader after the audience shows up.
I become the leader first.

The audience comes because I lead.

So, I’m shifting.

I’m stepping into Leader Linda now.
Not later. Not when it feels more comfortable. Not when it feels guaranteed.

Now.

That means I’m doing the things that build my business and my life before there’s evidence they’re working.
It means I’m choosing “being and doing” instead of waiting for permission.

This whole realization reminds me of a story from my family.

My cousin Craig, around 15 years old, was not exactly known for his personal hygiene. My aunt asked him one day when he was going to start brushing his teeth every day.

His answer?

“When I get a girlfriend.”

You can see the problem.

He was waiting for the result…before doing the thing that would help create the result.

And if I’m honest? I’ve been doing my own version of that.

Waiting for the business to grow…before fully showing up as the leader who grows it.

But here’s what’s also true about me.

I do step up.

I’ve done it my whole life.

I became a college professor because someone needed me—and I said yes.
I stepped in, figured it out, and only later did I start to feel like a professor.

I became a mother in what felt like a blink.
After being told pregnancy might not even be possible, I learned I was pregnant in September—and by February, I was holding a baby in my arms.

I remember thinking, “You have to pick him up. People expect you to pick him up.”

And I did.

I figured it out, like I always do.

That’s been the pattern.

Something happens → I’m needed → I step in → I grow into it.

And while that’s made me incredibly capable…

It’s also trained me to wait.

To wait for the moment.
To wait for the need.
To wait for something outside of me to move me forward.

And I don’t want to live that way anymore.

Because here’s the cost of that pattern:

When I step in at the last minute to help…
When I respond instead of initiate…

I don’t advocate for myself.

The opportunity is already shaped.
The compensation is already decided.
And I hear things like, “We know you should earn more, but this is all we can offer.”

And I accept it.

Not because I’m not capable of more—but because I entered the role after the terms were set.

That ends here.

I’m not waiting to be needed anymore.

I’m choosing to lead.

I’m choosing to initiate.

I’m choosing to build something on purpose—with my experience, my training, my education, and my voice at the center of it.

Not as a response.

As a decision.

So, the question I’m sitting with now is this:

What are Leader Linda’s actions today?

Not the perfect ones.
Not the guaranteed ones.

The real ones.

The visible ones.
The ones that build strength, stamina, capacity, and skill over time.

Because I’m not waiting to become her.

I’m practicing being her.

Starting now.

I didn’t realize I was waiting—but I’m not anymore.

For most of my life, I’ve been the good student.

The one who:

• Does the homework.

• Integrates deeply.

• Brings nuance.

• Goes beyond the assignment.

• Quietly hopes the teacher will notice.

That part of me built my degrees.
It built my career.
It built my credibility.

And it followed me everywhere.

Into classrooms.

Into boardrooms.

Into leadership roles.

Into entrepreneurship.

And into my relationships.

Into being the steady presence.

The capable one.

The one who holds it together.

The one who keeps things from falling apart.

Every framework? I learn it.

Every new expectation? I meet it.
Every new layer? I integrate it.

Every new challenge? I figure it out.

And then I catch myself.

Because somewhere in all that competence is a sneaky question:

Will someone see how well I’m doing this?

Not in a needy way.
In a human way.

But here’s what I’ve realized: At some point, you have to graduate.

You have to move from “Did I do it well enough?”

to “This is what I stand for.”

That shift is uncomfortable.

Because being the good student is safe.

There’s a rubric.
There’s approval.
There’s belonging.

Leadership is different.

There’s no gold star.
No final grade.
No guaranteed recognition.

It’s just you deciding what matters and standing behind it.

And if we’re honest, the scariest part isn’t stepping forward.

It’s this:

What if I claim my authority…and no one responds?

That’s the fear underneath so much over-learning and over-integrating.

Not lack of knowledge.

Not lack of ability.

Exposure.

If things don’t move immediately, it won’t be because I’m not enough.

It will be because growth in business, in leadership, in influence, and in life requires:

• Clarity.
• Consistency.
• Repetition.
• Patience.

That’s strategy — not identity.

So, I’m making a decision.

I can still learn.
I can still grow.
I can still attend workshops and read and study.

But I’m no longer rebuilding my foundation every time I discover a new layer.

My core work won’t change.

I guide capable women who look fine on the outside but feel the constant pressure hum underneath their lives, especially around money and responsibility, to see the patterns running them and build lives that support them.

That’s the spine.

Everything else is seasoning.

If you’ve been the good student your whole life, this might be your season, too.

The season where you stop trying to be noticed in someone else’s room…

And start building your own authority, wherever you stand.

Where are you still trying to earn authority you already hold?