When I was a kid, life was pretty simple. I loved having fun and never worried about the bigger things. But as I moved into my teens, I realized I was different. Being gay, I didn't share the same interests as most guys. I didn't like sports and didn't enjoy many typical teenage activities. I was a quiet kid, navigating unfamiliar territory, and fixated on things I enjoyed. One of those things was marching band. I was so enamored by it that I became drum major my senior year. Although I wasn't the best musician, I truly enjoyed all aspects of it.

The Early Years

Through marching band, I made some friends, but our connection was mostly centered around band activities. At the time, I didn't question it; I was happy to be part of the group. Reflecting back, I realize our only common ground was marching together. I had one or two consistent friends, but even then, I now see that I was often playing a role to fit in.

College Years

The pattern continued through college. In an environment where I sought to find common ground, I made many straight friends whom I enjoyed a lot. However, there were moments where I couldn't relate because I was gay and they didn't experience the same things. I joined student organizations and found comfort in being involved. Yet, most of my friends were still very different from me. Many of my passions, like photography, were solo experiences that I enjoyed on my own time. Looking back now, I see that while I was trying to fit in, I often felt like an outsider.

Post-College Exploration

After university, I continued learning about myself and left Michigan to explore more of my gay side. I fell in love with circuit parties—large-scale, themed dance events primarily attended by gay men, often featuring renowned DJs and elaborate productions—and fully immersed myself in that scene. I made friends in those spaces and found a sense of belonging. Reflecting on those five years, I realize that many of the interactions were superficial. It was fun, and I learned a lot about gay culture. I didn't think much before jumping at the opportunity for change and new experiences. Somehow, things just fell into place.

Reflection and Overthinking

Looking back, I now question those relationships and experiences. Were they good or bad? Did they add value to my life? Each connection contributed to my growth in some way.

Now, I'm unsure about what I'm passionate about. Even with new projects, I wonder if I'll just end up forming friendships based on activities again. This uncertainty makes me overthink—who am I really? It's normal to connect through shared interests, but why do I feel like my friends need to check most of the boxes on compatibility?

The Spiral of Overthinking

Overthinking has affected many aspects of my life. Even simple decisions, like attending a social event, can become overwhelming. I analyze every detail, questioning my worth and others' intentions. This mental maze traps me, making it hard to take action or enjoy the present moment. As I get older, finding time to build new friendships becomes harder, intensifying these feelings of isolation.

The Exhausting Cycle of Starting Over

Every new phase in my life felt like starting from scratch. Moving to a new city, starting a new job, making new friends—it all came with the same nagging questions: Will these people truly understand me? Am I really accepted?

The Importance of a Support System

Having a solid support system is crucial. The moments I've felt most at peace were when I had friends who genuinely understood me. They helped ground me and offered different perspectives, which eased my overthinking. A strong support system can make a world of difference, providing the emotional and psychological support needed to navigate life's challenges.

However, we must also learn to be fine on our own. While support systems are invaluable, they are not always available. Building inner resilience and self-reliance is equally important in managing overthinking and ensuring we can stand strong even when alone.

Conclusion

Overthinking is a double-edged sword. It can lead to deep self-reflection but also paralyze us, stopping us from growing and connecting meaningfully. The key is finding balance—embracing our analytical nature while allowing ourselves to live without overanalyzing everything. Setting small, achievable goals and accepting that not everything needs to be perfect can help break the cycle of overthinking. Letting go of the need to control every outcome opens up new possibilities for connection and growth, helping us embrace life's transitions with a more open mindset.