For a long time, I didn’t even have language for what my clients were going through.They didn’t describe their childhoods as traumatic. There was no obvious abuse. No terrifying scenes you’d expect from a movie. Most of them would say things like: “My parents weren’t bad.” “They provided for me.” “I had a good childhood.” But the more we talked, the more it became clear: they were carrying invisible wounds. Deep ones. From parents who, while not cruel or violent, just weren’t grown up enough, emotionally speaking. Let’s talk about what that actually means.

Most of my clients show up with a long list of things they’re already doing to feel better. They workout and listen to podcasts dedicated to health & wellness. They’ve read the best-selling books and could probably teach a mini class on how to “optimize” stress.

If you’re someone who always feels like you’re one slip-up away from being “found out”, like all your successes still aren’t enough to prove your worth, then you probably know shame way too well. I see this all the time in my clients. On paper, they’re successful. They’ve built careers, raised families, checked all the boxes. But under it? There’s this quiet, gnawing belief: “I’m not good enough.” It might not be loud every day, but it’s there, shaping how they think, work, love, and treat themselves.

Your inner child isn’t some magical being living inside you. It’s your emotional wiring. The network of beliefs, fears, and body responses your brain built when you were little. If you grew up feeling unsafe, ignored, shamed, or like love had strings attached, your nervous system took notes. It learned fast how to keep you in line, to protect you from the pain of being left out or let down.

I want to clear something up.

Overfunctioning isn’t noble.
It’s not a sign that you’re “good under pressure,” “so capable,” or “the strong one.”

It’s a stress response.

It’s your nervous system’s way of staying ahead of danger by managing everything, other people’s needs, feelings, and responsibilities, so nothing falls apart.

I see it constantly in my clients. The high-performers. The caregivers. The “doers” who carry more than their fair share and then blame themselves when they burn out. The common thread? They’ve been overfunctioning for so long, they think it’s normal.

So let’s name it. Let’s break it down. And let’s talk about what a healthy alternative actually looks like.

I used to think success was a tradeoff. That if I wanted to “make it”, to be respected, productive, driven, I had to give up things like rest, joy, and ease.

To me, fulfillment looked like a luxury you earn after grinding. Like a prize you unlock once you've checked enough boxes. Until then? Keep your head down and push harder.

You know what’s wild? Most of the people who look like they’ve got it together, the high-achievers, the “I’m fine” crowd, the ones who never miss a deadline…..can’t actually rest. I don’t mean they’re bad at time management. I mean rest literally feels uncomfortable. Like the second things slow down, something inside them speeds up.

Let’s just name the thing up front: perfectionism isn’t a personality trait. It’s not about loving clean spreadsheets or color-coded calendars. It’s not about having “high standards.” It’s a survival strategy. And more often than not, it’s rooted in unprocessed childhood trauma.

A lot of high-achieving professionals are quietly falling apart - and no one knows. Because you don’t look anxious. You look competent. Polished. Sharp. You are sharp. You also might be low-key panicking in your head 24/7.

You answer emails. You meet deadlines. You show up to work. People might even say you're “killing it.” But deep down? You feel off. Numb. Disconnected. Like you're performing in your own life instead of actually living it.

Let’s be honest, feeling insecure when you know you’re qualified is straight-up frustrating. You’ve got the degrees. You’ve done the work. You’re not winging it. And yet, there's this lingering voice in the back of your mind that keeps whispering, “What if I’m not actually good enough?”

You finished the list. Early, even. You’ve handled everything. So why does your brain still act like there’s a fire to put out? That uneasy itch to find one more thing to do - that’s not random. And no, it doesn’t mean you’re wired wrong. It means your brain is doing exactly what it learned to do.