Overthinking feels like a general condition of our time. We overthink our choices, our futures, our relationships, our productivity. But as architecture students, overthinking seems to come with the territory.

Does it help us?
Not really.

More often, it slowly drains our motivation. It pulls us down, makes us doubt ourselves, and creates a constant feeling of not being enough.

Architecture is not an easy field. It demands creativity, technical knowledge, long hours, and emotional investment all at the same time. As students, we are constantly asked to justify our ideas, defend our concepts, and explain our decisions. Somewhere along the way, thinking deeply turns into thinking too much.

I overthink a lot.
Especially when comparison enters the picture.

Studio culture makes comparison almost unavoidable. You look at others’ projects, models, drawings, ideas, and suddenly your own work feels weaker. Less intelligent. Less creative. Less “architectural.” Overthinking feeds on this comparison until it convinces you that you are untalented, insufficient, or simply not meant for this profession.

But is that really true?

Or is it just the voice of overthinking getting louder?

Overthinking brings endless questions with it.
Do I even have the talent to design?
Am I creative enough?
Will I ever find a job?
Will this effort be worth it in the long run?

These questions don’t arrive calmly. They come late at night, between deadlines, during critiques, or while staring at a half-finished drawing. Instead of pushing us forward, they freeze us in place.

What makes this harder is that architecture is not a field with clear right or wrong answers. Ambiguity is part of the process. While this openness is what makes architecture exciting, it is also what makes overthinking thrive. When there is no single correct solution, doubt easily fills the gaps.

Yet, overthinking is not a sign of failure. It often means we care. Caring is a natural part of this process, and it’s something we should allow ourselves to do.

We care about our work, about our future, about doing things well. The challenge is learning when to stop questioning and start trusting ourselves. Architecture needs thinking, but it also needs intuition, impulse, and courage. Some of the best ideas begin before they are fully explained.

Maybe the goal is not to eliminate overthinking, but to recognize it for what it is: a temporary state, not a permanent truth. A voice that questions, but doesn’t get to decide our worth.

Because feeling insufficient does not mean we are.
And doubting ourselves does not mean we don’t belong.

So, I suggest trusting ourselves and comparing only with our past selves, where even the smallest progress begins to matter.