Why We Keep Overreacting
Moving our Mom Brain from knee-jerk reactions to thoughtful responses
Motherhood is basically one long string of reactions.
Kid spills milk.
Teen rolls eyes.
Group text explodes.
Boss emails “Got a second?”
And before we even realize what we’re doing, we’re off—snapping, spiraling, lecturing, or Googling “How much therapy will my children need?”
Lately I’ve been reading Smarter, Faster, Better by Charles Duhigg and chapter three is all about focus. Specifically, how people who make consistently good decisions do it.
Spoiler: they’re not just “naturally calm” or “built different.” They have something called mental models—and as moms, this is where it gets really interesting.
The Movie Playing in Your Head
Duhigg says effective leaders are constantly running a little movie in their minds of what “right” looks like. They’re telling themselves a story:
“Here’s what should be happening.”
“Here’s what I expect next.”
“Here’s what I’ll do if that doesn’t happen.”
Then, as real life unfolds, they compare what they know should be happening to what they’re actually seeing—and adjust.
Think about airline pilots landing a damaged plane. Even if their instruments go blank, they have a strong mental model of how the aircraft should feel and behave, so they can make good choices even under extreme stress.
Or NICU nurses who can sense something is wrong with a baby before the monitors start screaming. They’ve seen so many healthy babies that their brains are constantly comparing: This is normal. That is not.
Mental models are not magic. They’re just accurate, updated stories in your head about what “right” look like.
And they aren’t just for pilots and nurses.
They’re for us. In our kitchens. In our minivans. On our couches at 10:37 pm when someone finally texts back.
Your Brain Is a Spotlight
Now, what happens when we don’t have strong, updated mental models?
Duhigg says to imagine your attention like a giant spotlight—swinging around, trying to find something to focus on to make sense of what’s happening. If you have a strong model, your spotlight goes, “Ah, yes, this is what matters,” and locks on.
If you don’t? That spotlight just keeps swinging until it lands on… something. Anything. And often? It picks the wrong thing.
Cue the overreactions.
We’ve all seen this at work—a leader panicking and changing strategies every five minutes because they can tell something is wrong, but they don’t really know what right looks like.
But honestly, I’m more concerned with what this looks like at home.
Outdated Mental Models in Real Life
Here’s the question that’s been bouncing around my head:
Do I actually have a clear, current mental model of what a healthy relationship looks like in this season?
Not in theory. Not in a wedding sermon from 2000. Not in a college dorm room version of friendship. Now.
Am I using a marriage mental model that hasn’t been updated since year three, even though we’re at year twenty-five?
Am I using a friendship mental model based on high school or college, where everyone had unlimited time and zero kids?
Am I using a parenting mental model that worked for toddlers, while I’m parenting teenagers and young adults?
Because if our mental models are outdated, our spotlight doesn’t care. Under stress, it just grabs whatever story is already loaded.
Your friend doesn’t text you back for four hours.
Outdated model: She’s mad at me. She’s pulling away. I must have done something wrong.
Updated model: She’s in a meeting, in the carpool line, or scraping cat vomit off the floor.
Your husband forgets to take out the trash.
Outdated model: He doesn’t care about me. I do everything around here.
Updated model: We’re both tired. He forgot. I can remind him like a teammate, not a prosecuting attorney.
Your teen blows curfew.
Outdated model: Go nuclear. Take the phone, ground them for a month, slam a few doors for emphasis.
Updated model: Take a breath. Ask questions. Hold the boundary you’ve already decided on. Respond, don’t explode.
The actions might still involve consequences, boundaries, and hard conversations. But the story in your head is different—and that story shapes everything.
So How Do We Build Better Mental Models?
Duhigg writes, “Mental models help us by providing a scaffold for the torrent of information that constantly surrounds us.” If “torrent of information” doesn’t describe modern motherhood, I don’t know what does.
We don’t need perfection. We need better scaffolding.
A few simple ways to start:
1. Ask, “What does healthy look like here, now?”
Not “What did healthy look like for my parents?” or “What did that Instagram therapist say in a reel I half-watched?” But in this friendship, in this season of marriage, with this kid at this age.
2. Narrate your life on purpose.
It sounds silly, but try it:
“A loving mom who wants connection more than control says…”
“A good friend who values honesty and trust does…”
“A wife who’s in this for the long haul chooses…”
You’re rehearsing the story you want your brain to grab when things go sideways.
3. Update the software. Regularly.
Have a check-in with yourself:
Is this still what I believe a healthy marriage looks like at this stage?
Is this still what a healthy friendship looks like for 40-year-old me, not 20-year-old me?
Is my view of my teen based on who they used to be—or who they’re becoming?
Talk it out with your spouse, a trusted friend, a counselor, or your small group. Borrow better models if you need to. We all do.
If you feel like you’re constantly reacting instead of thoughtfully responding—as a mom, a spouse, a friend—it might be because your mental model needs an update.
So this week, maybe take five minutes in the carpool line or on your lunch break and ask yourself:
What does “healthy and loving” look like here, really?
Then let that new story load in your brain.
Because when life gets loud and my inner spotlight starts swinging, I want it to land on a model that looks a lot like the woman I’m becoming—steadier, kinder, braver, and more focused on what actually matters.
