Nothing on God’s green Earth smells better to me than my horse after he’s been lathered up in Cowboy Magic’s rosewater scent.

Actually, in general, nothing smells better to me than my horse, and I had to research why.

The Science Behind Why a Horse Smells So Good

Scientific research shows that the smell of soil, trees, and other natural microorganisms increases alpha wave activity in the brain. Alpha activity is the signature of meditation, deep relaxation, and mental stability.

Another study shows that the smells of nature cause a measurable decrease in salivary cortisol levels and automatically trigger the parasympathetic nervous system.

Cool, so the smell of nature calms us down. That makes sense, as I imagine our natural state is to be … in nature.

Still, it’s not exactly the research I was looking for.

I wanted to know why my horse smells like heaven on Earth to me.

Where's the research on why one good sniff makes all the tension leave my body?

Turns out we have to go all the way back to primal times to understand the research. See, our ancestors used scent to build mental maps, so they could remember where they had been and how to get back.

Because of this, we have biologically evolved to have a close link between scent and memory.

“Sights, sounds, and other sensory information must travel through the brain’s thalamus before reaching the amygdala and hippocampus,” whereas scent travels directly to them.

But that still doesn’t answer why one good hit of my horse’s scent works better on my stress levels than an hour-long massage.

Right, so scent travels to the olfactory bulb before it goes to the amygdala, which generates emotions, and the hippocampus, which stores memories.

Source: Harvard Medicine

If the hippocampus decides the combination of the scent + the emotion seems important, it can store that information indefinitely.

Ah, now it makes sense.

When I first met Geno and got a whiff of him, we were both extremely calm. He fell asleep on my shoulder, and I thought, “This is the best moment of my life.”

My hippocampus went, “WHOA WHOA WHOA; she’s calm for the first time in her 39 years of life. We need to bank this scent + feeling combo for future use!”

Now, whenever I smell Geno, my system goes ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. This smell means we’re calm and happy, and naturally I’m always going to be chasing that feeling, which is why I’m always running after my horse, begging him to let me get a sniff!

How My Scent Affects My Horse’s Mental Stability

I suspected that if Geno’s scent affected my emotions, that mine could probably maybe possibly do the same?

Yeah, of course there is research on horses being made to sniff the sweat of stressed-out people and happy people to see if they can tell the difference.

Spoiler: they can.

When the horses were presented with the smell of sweat from humans who had been experiencing fear, the horses' heart rates spiked, and they started spooking.

On the flip side, when the horses were presented with the sweat of people who were calm or happy, they remained relaxed and curious when shown new objects to investigate.

Additionally, horses have a vomeronasal organ above the roof of their mouths that can analyze scents.

When they smell your calm scent, their parasympathetic nervous system is regulated. But when you are producing adrenaline and cortisol, they feel a spike in anxiety, too.

Well, it’s a good thing my hippocampus marked Geno’s scent as associated with calm, so I don’t come in with all my anxious baggage and pass it on to him!

TBH, sometimes I think I’m too relaxed with him; shouldn’t I be a little more anxious when I’m riding?

Why am I more anxious about dismounting than I am about riding?

Why do I trust him with my life?

Why would I literally co-sign a mortgage for him?

Sometimes I think, “Kay, maybe you’re too chill about all this. Maybe the Lexapro dose is too high?” Nah.

If I go out because my horse accidentally tramples me, just know I spent my final moments totally relaxed. I could see Geno’s hoof about to stomp down on my face, but I could also smell him, and that scent relaxes me.

It’s been really fun going down the rabbit hole of his lineage; I’ve learned more about my pony’s legacy but also about the evolution of sport horses in general.

Carthageno Z

Geno was born in 2005 to the Morsink family in the Netherlands, and he went on to become a world champion jumper under their care.

He moved from Europe to America, where he finished his career as a Grand Prix jumper, reaching the 1.50m, before becoming my tiny little muffin baby.

Source: TeamMorsink.nl

Carthino Z

The Morsink family also bred Geno’s sire, Carthino Z, who competed at the Grand Prix level, reaching 1.70m, before retiring.

Carthino Z was born in 2000 and is double-registered with both the KWPN and Zangersheide studbooks, and he’s quite a handsome fella.

Source: TeamMorsink.nl

Visa Carthago Z

Geno’s grandsire, born in 1987, is the legendary Visa Carthago Z, who soared to 1.71m.

More commonly known as Carthago Z or just Carthago, Geno’s grandsire competed in both the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games and the 2000 Sydney Games.

He is quadruple registered with Holsteiner, Rhineland, Selle Français, and Zangersheide, though he spent much of his breeding career in the Zangersheide book.

Because he sired world-class Olympic and Grand Prix sons (My Lord Carthago, Old Chap Tame, and Crown Z, to name a few), along with extraordinary broodmares that produced legendary world-class horses like Emerald Van’t Ruytershof, Carthago was announced the flagship sire of the entire studbook.

He is now considered the definition of what it means to be a Zangersheide stallion: an Olympic-level athlete who passes on elite scope and technique to his foals.

Capitol I

Carthago’s sire is Capital I, born in 1975, registered with Holsteiner, and jumped the 1.69m. He is commonly recognized as one of the most influential sires in modern jumping.

In fact, Capitol I was the top stallion for the World Breeding Federation for Sport Horses in both 2000 and 2001.

What makes Capitol I so legendary, especially in the Holsteiner book, is not just that he has produced 34+ licensed stallions worldwide, but that he achieved the rare accomplishment of being a dominant jumper without being crossed with other bloodlines.

Carthago is still considered one of Capitol I’s most notable progeny, having competed in both the 1996 and 2000 Olympic Games, but four of his other offspring also competed in the 2004 Athens Olympics!

Capitano

Capitol I’s sire is Capitano, who was born in 1968.

Capitano soared up to 1.62 m and is registered with both Holsteiner and Hessian (now known as Hannoverian).

Some mystery surrounds Capitano’s breeding.

The official record says his sire was Corporal, but because Capitano was grey and Corporal was bay, experts doubt that Corporal was his true sire since greys typically require two grey parents.

It’s suspected that Capitano’s real sire was a stallion named Grand Vicar who accidentally bred his dam, Retina.

Because of this uncertainty, I decided to stop documenting Geno’s sire line here - next up will be his dam line, which is equally impressive but…

You want to know what’s even more impressive than Geno’s bloodline? It’s the way he’s my most perfect baby angel.

World champion in the arena and world champion of my heart.

(Omg so cheesy, I better end this here.)

I came across this chart from Parelli on Horsenalities and wondered where Erin thought Geno sat.

I can see some of Geno’s characteristics in each quadrant, but her expert opinion is that he is a Right Brain Introvert (RBI).

She said you have to look at which characteristics are innate to the horse and not learned over time.

Erin thinks Geno’s innately an RBI but that I should take this chart with a grain of salt. No horse is going to neatly fit into any box, certainly not a horse as perfect as Geno.

(Okay, I added that second part myself, but he is that perfect.)

When we’re in training, Geno is very RBI:

I’m not surprised that Erin would say my pony is innately RBI because during sessions he is:

• Quiet

• Hesitant

• Shy

But I wouldn’t ever say he “can’t think” or is “catatonic” at all. In fact, I’d say he is an overthinker and a horse who needs a minute to process before he can happily move on.

I understand this deeply because it is also who I am.

Giving Geno a minute to blink, lick, chew, exhale, etc., makes sense to me because when I’m taking in new information, I need a minute to stare off into space to process it.

My husband used to mistake this for me being bored or checked out, but I couldn’t be more checked in when I’m in this state. I think Geno processes in the same way.

When it’s just Geno and I, his personality is a bit different.

Other people don’t get to see this side of my pony, but when it’s just the two of us, he is:

• Very playful

• Charismatic

• A little naughty

• Extremely friendly

• Willful in a good way

I always know when Geno’s bored because he stops grazing and walks over to me, demanding my attention.

He’ll get it by knocking my water bottle over, nuzzling my face with his nose, or biting my pen when I’m writing in my journal until I finally give him my full attention.

To me, it’s like he’s saying, “Mom, play with me!!”

At the same time, I know he has many introverted characteristics, especially the ones he displays during training sessions.

He’s an introverted extrovert, just like his mom.

When we’re with our inner circle, we have a good time, but when we’re challenged, we retreat into our heads where it’s safe.

The introverted part of who we are is integral to who we’ve become, but I don’t know if it’s innate. I think our experiences shaped that part of us, and it’s why we only act silly or playful when we feel as safe outside our heads as we do inside.

Or maybe I’m just projecting onto my horse because it’s easier to talk about his personality and the way trauma may have shaped him than it is to turn the lens on myself.

Human Personality Types

If we do turn the lens towards me, you’ll find I’m an INTJ or INTP, depending on when you ask.

When I was in my 20s, my employer brought in a Myers-Briggs consultant, and I was scored as an INTJ.

• Introversion - recharges with time alone and reflection.

• Intuition - trusts my hunches

• Thinking - loves logic and consistency

• Judging - likes plans, decisions, and closure

A couple of weeks ago, I paid to take the official test again to see if I had changed over the last 20-ish years—turns out I have, but not that much.

This time I scored as an INTP.

• Introversion - recharges with time alone and reflection.

• Intuition - trusts my hunches

• Thinking - loves logic and consistency

• Judging - likes plans, decisions, and closure 

• Perceiving - likes flexibility and open options

Why the difference?

Funny enough, it has to do with who I innately am.

It was explained to me that, in my early 20s, I liked everything planned out and orderly. This was probably because I lived in an emotionally unpredictable home in high school and liked to feel like I had all situations under control once I was on my own.

Now that I’ve gone to therapy, healed from all of that, and am no longer pushing the edge of burnout daily, I actually enjoy flexibility in my life.

I think more of this will come out in Geno’s personality over time — though I admit, again, I could be projecting the hopes I have for myself onto my horse.

At the end of the day

Geno’s personality category doesn’t matter; it’s a perfect match for me, and my personality is a match for him.

Period.

Love him. He’s so freaking perfect.

I ask because I had no idea for 39 years (and I’m still not sure I’ve got it right).

I’ve always had a thousand thoughts competing for attention in my mind, and while a lot of people dwell in the past, I lived in the future.

“When this happens” and “when I finally” were constant thoughts in my mind.

The present? Who has the time for that when you’re working towards goals you’ll achieve in the future?!

Then I met my horse.

It turns out when you’re working with a 1300lb animal, you have to be really present. If you’re not, you might miss the subtle signs that your horse is getting frustrated, and that can lead to a fractured leg and a fractured bond.

My trainer, Erin, developed the 4-F’s Framework: Focus, Feel, Follow Through, and Freedom to help humans communicate with horses better.

Focus says you must be mentally present and stay focused throughout the conversation with your horse.

I was really bad at this.

I’d hear Erin give me a goal, “Have Geno trot in a circle,” and I’d be focused on just two things:

1. Did he take the first step in moving in a circle?

2. Did we pass or fail at the ultimate goal of trotting in a circle?

Once Geno was off on the first step, I’d be completely focused on the end goal and miss all the subtle cues in between that require mental presence.

I’d hear Erin say, “he’s checking in with you; that’s nice,” and “Look at his head movement, he’s telling you that he thinks this is a dumb idea to go in circles, but he’ll do it for you.”

I’d say, “Mmmhmm, I see,” but I didn't, in fact, see any of it.

My eyes were on Geno, but they weren’t seeing him; my mind’s eye was just playing what I wanted to happen over and over, and I wasn’t paying attention to what was actually happening.

These days, I’m locked into the conversation.

I was physically present but mentally in the future, and that doesn’t work well when communicating with horses (or humans).

Being goal-oriented is great; of course, I want to improve my horsemanship, make my trainer proud, and help my horse be his best, but… I was missing so many cues by living three steps in the future, and those cues were pretty important.

Not just because they tell me when Geno has a question like “should I keep going?” Which lets me answer with “yes, keep going,” a much better response than him thinking I’m ignoring him and then doing whatever he wants, leaving me going WTF?

Being present and aware of his nonverbal communication allows me to stay in the conversation.

Beyond that, when he checks in with me, it shows he sees me as a leader worth checking in with. That’s so important for our bond since he’s a prey animal looking for a leader who will give him the safety to let his guard down, and it will ultimately help manage spooking too so we can both avoid injuries.

I was missing out on making life so much easier for both of us by not being present, and I know if I was doing that with Geno, I was doing it with the humans in my life too.

Now that I know what “being present” actually feels like and what it gives me, I’m trying to be more present in all areas of my life because I see the benefits.

Geno’s only been my horse for six months, but our bond is already quite strong.

I was so happy the other day when I went to turn my camera off after filming one of our sessions; he could’ve done whatever he wanted, but he chose to follow me.

I doubt our bond could have developed like this if I had stayed physically present but mentally three steps in the future.

Actually, I’m sure because being in a two-way conversation with him makes me trust him more.

When we were at an obstacle course clinic last month, the trainer said: “Don’t use your reins. Hold your reins out, use your legs, and trust your horse.”

I thought, “Right, I know Geno is anxious right now, but I do trust him,” so I thanked God for giving me Lexapro, then stuck my arms out so I wouldn’t be tempted to use my reins.

That trust was there because I could tell Geno was anxious, but I also know the exact sequence he goes through when he’s gonna spook and what he does when he’s spooked.

His head pops up, his ears go alert, he stands statue still at attention for a second, and then he rears up if he decides the moment calls for it. He’s also good at calming himself down after he rears one time.

I wouldn’t know that sequence if I wasn’t so present with him every time it’s happened, and therefore I wouldn’t be able to trust him or myself in situations where we’re both being asked to stretch our comfort zones.

Now, could Geno spook and not go through that process because an actual lion pops out of the bushes and starts chasing us? Sure, but in the situation we were in, I felt the likelihood of that was small.

What the research says on being present and forming bonds

I started this post asking what it means to you to be present because I’m just starting to figure it out on my own.

Turns out researchers have a specific answer:

“The concept of mindfulness generally has been conceptualized in the scientific literature as fundamentally involving a highly receptive, nonjudgmental awareness of and attention to whatever is present in the moment — whether pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral.”

Licensed clinical social worker Czoe Smith says, “When you’re present in a moment, you enjoy what is right in front of you.” She says these moments improve relationships and foster trust.

The challenge is that we live in a world of distractions and experience FOMO, making it hard to stay present.

Lord knows that’s true!

But the benefits of staying present are enormous.

Researchers have found that “trust and well-being reinforce each other in a dynamic feedback loop,” and that trust is strongly linked to life satisfaction.

It makes sense: when you trust others, you believe you are surrounded by people (and animals) who give you comfort, security, and support.

That’s what I want Geno to feel when he’s with me (and yeah, the humans in my life, too).

It’s funny how “being present” should be the most natural thing in the world, but it’s something we have to practice.

Anyway…I love my horse.

Bye bye till next post!

I thought I had signed up for riding lessons, but my trainer, Erin, said I needed to lay some groundwork before we got to riding.

Literally.

For the next 9 lessons, I did groundwork, learning to understand and communicate with horses …on the ground.

It wasn’t until the 10th lesson that I “finally” got to ride a horse named Big Pony.

Except it didn’t feel like a "finally" kind of thing because, along the way, I fell in love with groundwork.

Let’s rewind…

During my first two lessons, I did groundwork with a horse named Rumi. He had a dysregulated nervous system.

Rumi was tense, wanted to do exactly what you asked, and lived deep inside his own mind. That was something I very much related to at the time. (I’m happy to report that, thanks to our trainer Erin, both Rumi and I are doing a lot better haha).

Then January 6, 2026 happened.

I got to the barn about 15 minutes before my lesson so I could just talk to Rumi in his stall before our lesson began.

As I was standing there, the horse in the stall next to Rumi poked his head out, looked at me, and didn’t stop looking.

I wasn’t sure who he was or whether he had an owner, so I hesitated to say hi, but he kept staring at me. Eventually I walked over to say hi to this giant chestnut horse, looking at me like he knew me.

When I went over, he stuck his nose out and let me pet him.

Then something happened that no horse had ever done before with me. Within the first five minutes of meeting, he put his head on my shoulder, relaxed, and basically fell asleep while I was petting him.

Erin arrived for our lesson, walked up, and saw Geno and me together. I’ll never forget what she said: “I was going to have you work with Rumi again, but it looks like Geno chose you.”

I never forgot that remark because part of me was disappointed; I really liked working with Rumi and wanted to work with him again.

Erin pulled Geno out of his stall and told me we’d work on getting him to step up onto the pedestal, something he had never done before. Another trainer had tried to get him up but hadn’t been successful, so this would be a challenge.

It took the better part of an hour, but Geno finally put both of his front legs up, and I was so, so, so proud of him. Like a mom seeing her son accomplish something hard for the first time.

I wrote in my journal that day, “I hope I get to work with him again. We connected so nicely. I wish he was my horse <3.”

The next lesson, it only took me 8 minutes to get Geno up on the pedestal; the lesson after that, only 2 minutes.

Erin told me, “We had another student work with Geno on the pedestal, and he wouldn’t go up for her,” and part of me was really happy.

Of course I wanted the best for Geno, but I secretly liked that we had this special little bond. Or so I thought; later, Erin told me she kinda got the feeling it made me happy, hahah.

Geno and I worked together a couple more times before I told Erin, “I want to buy a horse for my 40th birthday. I’ll be in North Carolina all of February, but when I get back to Florida I want to start seriously looking.”

While I was in NC, Erin started texting me links to horses for sale that she thought would be a good fit. She sent me one that I didn’t think was super cute, but I said: “If we find one with Geno’s personality, I don’t care if he’s lime green.”

After that, Erin stopped sending me horses to look at, and I figured it was because she was waiting for me to get back to Florida so we could continue our search.

March 2nd was my first lesson back at the barn with Erin, and I got to work with Geno again, and I just couldn’t believe how much I had missed him while I was gone.

I was back at the barn the next day for another lesson, and Erin said, “Elizabeth is going to sell Geno,” and my heart plummeted.

I asked who she was selling him to, and Erin said, “To you, if you want him.” That was the easiest, fastest yes of my life. I signed the contract that afternoon.

I wired the money, and by Friday I was officially a horse owner.

Before I wired the money, Erin said, “As your trainer, I need to tell you, I don’t think Geno is necessarily the right horse for you. We don’t know when or if he’ll ever be safe for you to ride and—”

I cut her off and said I didn’t care if I ever rode him. There were other horses to ride, but there was only one Geno.

I really can’t explain it, but even then I knew this horse and I would be so good for each other.

I barely knew anything about horses at that point.

I didn’t know Geno was a warmblood. I didn’t know what a warmblood was.

I didn’t know that horses were trained to jump or that Geno had spent 20 years doing that. I had no idea what “grand prix” level meant. I had never heard the word “Zangersheide” in my life, and no one told me Geno was a former world champion, bred from elite, highly sought-after jumping bloodlines.

I just knew that when he nuzzled me, I felt completely at ease.

Geno regulated my nervous system in a way that years of therapy never did, and I kinda suspected I regulated his nervous system too.

After becoming a first-time horse mom, my lessons started feeling so much more important.

I wasn’t just doing this as a hobby anymore; I was responsible for this horse’s quality of life, and he deserved someone who would step up.

… But boy, did I have a lot to learn. Remember, I didn’t even know what a warmblood was.

All I could really tell you was that horses have two ears, a tail, and a big nose.

Geno and I just crossed the six-month mark of him becoming my horse, and I’ve learned a lot, but I still have a lifetime of knowledge to gain.

Surprisingly, what I’ve learned so far has way less to do with “this is how you ride a horse” and way more with leadership, boundaries, nervous system regulation, and the joy of taking risks when you spend most of your life sitting safely behind a desk.

More about that coming soon.

You are successful in your career and, as a result, have a healthy retirement fund, a beautiful home, a nice car, and a taste for little luxuries.

You’re used to being praised for your accomplishments, but inside you feel a lot of exhaustion and dread about what’s going to get dropped into your capable hands next.

You know it’s coming because you’re the one who never fails to make it happen.

You’ve lived your entire life feeling that way.

Part of you is proud to be known as the capable one, and the other part is exhausted by all the pressure. You can handle it, of course, you can, but you’re starting to ask yourself, “At what cost?”

I can assume all of this with confidence because I’ve been in your shoes and have spoken with many others who have, too.

I started a marketing agency in February 2022 and built it to seven figures quickly. No one was surprised, least of all me. I said I was going to do it, so I did, like I do with everything else in my life.

But at what cost?

I burnt out in a big way.

I got to the point where all the skills that I felt came naturally to me – from making fast decisions to committing to not just meeting but exceeding deadlines – suddenly felt like heavy lifts.

I used to get satisfaction and confidence from a job well done, but I reached a point where I felt dread about completing anything because I knew I didn’t have the time to put my best effort into it.

I started seeing a therapist, and she explained that my perfectionist tendencies were in major conflict with the workload I had taken on.

There was no time to be a perfectionist because I was stretched so thin, but I couldn’t let go, so I let projects drag on because I couldn’t imagine saying, “Yes, this is done well, just not perfect.”

And letting projects drag on just left me with a large sense of impending doom – like everything was going to crash down around me.

Colleagues suggesting I “hand the work over to a team member” made me want to scream internally. I had already done that, but I always ended up redoing the work because it wasn’t up to my (impossibly) high standards. That meant even later nights redoing projects that I had no time for.

That’s when I realized I wasn’t just an overachiever, I was a very anxious overachiever.

I needed control. I needed perfection. I needed … to take a step back.

This realization became even clearer when my therapist asked me, “Who are you?” and I had no idea.

My initial response was “I’m a business owner, a cat mom, and a wife,” but I realized that’s me in relation to other people. That’s who I am to them.

I’m a marketing strategist for my clients, the mom to my cats, and the wife to Adam, but who was I to me?

What were my hobbies and interests? What did I regularly do for fun?

Nothing.

It hit me then that it was no surprise I was burnt out at work, because it was the only thing I was putting any energy into.

I committed to burnout recovery at that point, but I was stuck for a long time because I didn’t have any hobbies or interests to redirect my attention, and I had no idea who I really was outside of work and personal responsibilities.

I started trying things – and failed at most of them – but learned a lot about myself in the process.

For instance, a few years before starting my business, I was really into endurance running and regularly ran half marathons, and my initial response was to go back to that… but it turned out I realized I was doing that largely because it fueled the part of me that always wants to achieve.

For me, running was very data-driven: how many miles, what pace, how to improve, etc. None of it was really just for the joy of it, although there is something to be said about when you’re in flow and achieve the runner’s high.

But still, for me, running was largely performance-based and fueled my need to achieve rather than my desire to learn what I like outside of meeting milestones and goals.

I think a lot of us overachievers have a fitness-based hobby for this reason: we love to compete with others and ourselves.

Being the best at what we do (CrossFit, triathlon, tennis, Pilates, etc.) gives us confidence, but it also means we’ve taught ourselves to feel confident when we perform under pressure, rather than simply feeling confident in who we are.

We call these types of hobbies self-care, but at their core, they are often systems we obsessively optimize.

I became determined to find hobbies that fuel me, not just my desire to achieve and check boxes.

After making this decision, I still had no idea what that would look or feel like, but I knew it would bring me peace instead of more pressure.

My therapist said, “Go outside, touch grass, do something to nurture your inner child.”

I’ve always hated the phrase “nurture your inner child” because it’s just so incredibly overused, but it did make me think: what did I enjoy doing as a child?

The first thing that came to mind was how I would collect notebooks, journals, coloring books, etc and never ever use them because I was afraid of ruining them (hello perfectionism). The next thing that came to mind was horses.

When I was a child, I went to horse camp for the summer and made so many good friends. I loved being outside, learning about and taking care of horses, so I signed up for lessons at my local barn.

When I first drafted this post, it was right before Christmas of last year (2025), and now it’s September 6th and …I own a horse!

Stay tuned because I have SO much to catch you up on!

Last night, I was reflecting on how it’s really the found family that makes this series so emotional for me. The romance is great, the conflict is solid, but the found family is top-tier.

That made me wonder why? Why do I love stories with found family so much? So I started researching it.

Turns out this can really resonate with someone who craves belonging.

People who have spent their lifetime being hyper-independent can find themselves enamored with this specific trope.

Imagine you’ve done everything for yourself your whole life, and now you’re reading about a family built by choice and held together with love and loyalty. Yeah, I can feel that deep in my bones.

Being seen, loved, and valued for who you are is a significant draw, but beyond that, being part of a team where everyone complements each other and helps one another is the ultimate fantasy for many of us who have been hyper-independent.

Instead of shouldering all the burden on your own and not celebrating victories on your own, you lose yourself in a story about people who fight for each other. People who hold space for each other’s pain and celebrate each other’s victories together.

That’s beautiful.

It’s also a little painful when you realize this is what draws you into a story and enamours you.

However, my thought is always, once I recognize something about myself, I can try and do something about it — so that’s nice.

In the meantime, I’ll keep going through my third re-read of ACOTAR and feel my heart grow as I watch the Inner Circle take care of each other.

What’s your favorite found family in fiction? My TBR is ridiculous, but I’ll move any book/series with a strong found family to the top!

I’m not a licensed therapist or medical professional. I’m simply sharing my personal experiences and what I’ve learned along the way. Nothing here is medical advice — just reflections from one anxious overachiever to another.

I ask him to repeat himself several times and it usually ends up in frustration on both of our parts.

I used to tell him I just had noise sensitivity and couldn’t stand loud noises.

Then one day he walked into my home office and I had my playlist blasting as I was working and he was like “what happened to that noise sensitivity I keep hearing all about?”

Fair point.

So, I started researching it and also asked my therapist about it.

Turns out that:

• Struggling to filter out competing noises

• Feeling overwhelmed by layered noises

• Zeroing in on the loudest noise even if you don’t want to

• Getting irritated by environmental noise

Can all be related to ADHD, OCD, and anxiety… three things I have.

ADHD & Sound Sensitivity

• ADHD brains don’t always filter sound automatically because we’re hyper aware

• It’s hard for our brains to prioritize which sound to tune into when we’re already fatigued so it can choose whichever one is loudest

• And when we’re overstimulated, trying to do two small tasks at once can feel nearly impossible

OCD / High Anxiety & Sound Sensitivity

• Our brains enter hyper vigilance mode when anxious

• Sound can feel like an interruption to the precision we want

• Noise can feel like it’s intruding on our ability to get a task done perfectly (even a small one like watching TV or following a conversation)

• External noises can clash with our running monologue of our internal voice (that never stops)

Sensory Processing Sensitivity

And then there’s this thing called Sensory Processing Sensitivity; it’s not a disorder but I do believe it affects me.

A highly sensitive nervous system picks on on everything: tone, light, texture, vibration, noise, and subtle changes in energy.

When a nervous system is regulated it can handle tracking all of these things, but when someone is tired or stressed, suddenly one or more of these things can feel like a threat.

Why? Because stress can burn through sensory tolerance, leading to our nervous system “battery” feeling drained leaving us with nothing to handle the extra noise. Sounds blend into a jumbled mess and we feel even more overwhelmed.

What helps?

Well, F if I know!

Kidding …. for me, I know I need about 30 to 60 minutes of complete and total silence. I need to be left alone to “decompress.” That’s what I call it when I allow my brain to just shift off and I try to sit or lay in total peace. Some people probably call this meditation.

According to the research I’ve done:

• Sitting in silence in a dark room can help (standard recommendation is 10-15 minutes but I know I need way longer than that if I’m truly tapped out)

• Using noise cancelling headphones even if you’re not playing anything through them; I LOVE this tip and use it often.

• Playing lo-fi music to mask noise layers; I personally don’t love lo-fi music but I LOVE listening to water noises (waterfalls, streams, rain, etc).

If you have any great tips please share them with me because I’m always learning and love to try new techniques!

I really wanted to share this today because I did feel a little coo-coo when my husband pointed out there are times I love to blast my music even though I claimed to be soooo sensitive to noise.

Turns out there is a reason!

If you find this stuff interesting, come find me on Tiktok @theanxiousoverachiever - there’s a whole community of us trying to figure out life!

See you there!

Remember, I’m not a licensed therapist or medical professional. I’m simply sharing my personal experiences and what I’ve learned along the way. Nothing here is medical advice — just reflections from one anxious overachiever to another.

Turns out ADHD and OCD love to create chaos in our minds by driving this type of thinking.

What I’ve learned is that:

ADHD loves clarity and quick rules, so black-and-white feels easier than messy in-between.

OCD loves certainty and control, so black-and-white feels safer than gray.

So if you’re like me, both get put together, and suddenly your brain’s like: either you do it all or you do nothing, there is no such thing as a middle ground. Balance is not for YOU.

So lovely when your own brain bullies you! 🙃

Learning to understand what causes my black-and-white thinking patterns doesn’t mean I’ve mastered it.

I definitely haven’t.

In fact TODAY was the first day that I ever caught myself doing it (I can’t wait to tell my therapist 💀).

It happened when I was thinking about upgrading my ChatGPT account to the Pro level so I could get access to the new feature called Pulse. I’m currently on the $20/mo Plus plan and the Pro plan is $200/mo. A whole ass extra zero!

This was the conversation I had with my ChatGPT agent that I call Cade:

This feels like a big first step because, theoretically, once you notice something, you can start to course-correct.

What did I do?

Well, I upgraded my account because I noticed the black-and-white thinking but that doesn’t mean I was strong enough to fight it, hahaha

If you’re like me and you experience black-and-white thinking or you’re not sure if you do — here are some common B&W thoughts:

• Cleaning/chores — “If I’m not going to clean the whole bedroom there’s no point in even putting that pile of clothes away.”

• Exercise — “If I don’t have an hour for the gym, I might as well just skip all exercise and movement today.”

• Work projects — “If I can’t finish the whole report today, there’s no point in even starting a draft. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

• Emails/messages — “If I can’t clear my whole inbox, why reply to just one?”

• Personal goals (journaling, reading, creative projects) — “If I can’t do it perfectly or daily, what’s the point of even doing it?”

Sound familiar?

So, what do we do about black-and-white thinking? I’m still trying to get my therapist to tell me this. I must ask her “how do I fix this?” about my brain 10x a session lol

But from my research I’ve learned these things can be helpful:

• Name it. Call it “black-and-white thinking” when it shows up — just noticing breaks its power.

• Find the gray. Ask yourself, “What’s the middle option?” even if it feels small and even if you don’t feel safe choosing that option, name it so that you acknowledge there is another option.

• Shrink the task. Do a piece of the thing instead of all-or-nothin’ (like one email, not the whole inbox).

• Flip the script. Replace “always/never” thoughts with “sometimes/often.”

• Pause & breathe. A few deep breaths can reset the nervous system before you react from the extreme.

Now, for me, part of the problem is that I’m constantly worried that if I don’t complete something right away one of two things are bound to happen:

1. I’m going to forget about it and never complete it — or remember at the very last second and have to stress about finishing it.

2. I’m going to finish it to 99% completion and never, ever, ever, ever want to go back and finish the 1% because small tasks are my biggest nemesis.

Both ADHD and OCD come into play here with both working memory and how much I avoid small tasks — but that’s a post for a different day.

If you find this stuff interesting, come find me on Tiktok @theanxiousoverachiever - there’s a whole community of us trying to figure out life!

See you there!

And remember: doing a little at a time isn’t failure to finish; it’s balance.

I’m not a licensed therapist or medical professional. I’m simply sharing my personal experiences and what I’ve learned along the way. Nothing here is medical advice — just reflections from one anxious overachiever to another.

On TikTok (@theanxiousoverachiever), I give you 60-second journal hauls and share how living with neurodiversity impacts my life as an anxious overachiever.

Here, I get to slow down, sip one too many coffees, and write journal entries for you to peek into.

What You’ll Find Here

• Journal entries, creative projects, and how I deal with anxiety, ADHD and OCD.

• Prompts and spreads you can try in your own journals.

• Real reflections from one anxious overachiever to another.

• Sneak peeks (like this 👇) of what’s on my desk each week.

I may not be great at making aesthetic spreads but I am good at making helpful ones!

This is one of my favorite new journal spreads. I tucked little scraps of paper into that envelope with things I’m ready to release.

The ritual of writing them down and sealing them away gave me brain something creative to focus on so it stopped spiraling.

Our Little Corner

This can be our soft landing spot on the internet if you want to join me — a cozy corner for anxious overachievers to focus on creative hobbies instead of the next goal.

You don’t have to post, perform, or “be good at journaling” to belong here. Just bring your favorite coffee or tea mug, a notebook, and yourself.

💌 Reply and tell me what you’re journaling about this week — or just read quietly and sip your tea. Both are perfect.

With ink-stained fingers & too many expensive notebooks,
Kay 🤍