Grounded Growth Counseling & Consulting, LLC

Self-awareness is good.

Generally speaking.

It helps us notice patterns.

Recognize emotions.

Understand our needs.

Take accountability.

Make different choices.

All useful things.

But sometimes self-awareness quietly evolves into something else.

Something more like:

How am I coming across?

Was that weird?

Do I look anxious?

Am I talking too much?

Did that sound rude?

Am I being annoying?

Why am I feeling this?

Am I reacting appropriately?

Should I be more upset?

Should I be less upset?

Was that a trauma response?

Am I avoiding?

Am I people-pleasing right now?

Did I just make this about me?

And suddenly you’re no longer simply participating in your life. You’re also standing three feet away from yourself with a clipboard.

Welcome to self-monitoring.

Population: you.

Supervisor: also you.

Performance review: apparently continuous.

Self-Awareness and Self-Surveillance Are Not the Same Thing

Healthy self-awareness sounds like: “I notice I’m getting defensive.”

Self-surveillance sounds like: “Was that defensive? Why was I defensive? Did they notice? Did my face look defensive? Should I explain that I wasn’t trying to be defensive? What does it say about me that I got defensive?”

Healthy self-awareness: “I’m feeling anxious.”

Self-surveillance: “Why am I anxious? Am I more anxious than I should be? Can they tell? Am I acting strange? Is my voice different? Am I making enough eye contact? Too much eye contact?”

Healthy self-awareness gives you information. Constant self-monitoring turns you into the subject of an ongoing investigation.

And there is a point where paying more attention to yourself stops giving you useful information. It just gives you more things to worry about.

Research on self-focused attention has found that excessive self-focus is associated with negative affect, including anxiety and depression, particularly when that attention takes a ruminative or negatively evaluative form (Mor & Winquist, 2002).

So the problem isn’t noticing yourself. It’s getting stuck there.

“But Isn’t Therapy Supposed to Make Me More Self-Aware?” Yes.

And this is where therapy can get a little ironic.

We spend a lot of time teaching people to notice:

• Thoughts.
• Emotions.
• Body sensations.
• Urges.
• Patterns.
• Triggers.
• Beliefs.
• Relationship dynamics.

Great.

And then some people—particularly anxious, perfectionistic, or highly introspective people—take that assignment very seriously. Too seriously.

Now every emotional reaction becomes a case study.

Every conversation gets reviewed.

Every uncomfortable sensation needs an explanation.

Every choice gets evaluated for whether it was healthy enough, assertive enough, authentic enough, values-based enough, sufficiently boundaried, or possibly evidence of a pattern that should be addressed immediately.

Congratulations. You have successfully turned mental health into another performance metric.

Anxiety Loves a Monitoring System

Anxiety is particularly good at this. Anxious brains tend to care deeply about detecting problems early. So monitoring feels responsible.

If I carefully track:

• How I’m behaving.
• How my body feels.
• How other people are responding.
• Whether I might be making a mistake.
• Whether I’m becoming anxious.
• Whether I might embarrass myself.

Maybe I can prevent something bad from happening.

Research supports a relationship between anxiety and enhanced error monitoring. A meta-analysis found that anxiety—particularly anxious apprehension and worry—was associated with greater neural responses to errors (Moser et al., 2013).

Essentially, some anxious brains are particularly interested in: Did I mess up?

Which may explain why you can walk away from a perfectly normal interaction and immediately launch quality control.

Social Situations Are Especially Good at Triggering This

Imagine you’re talking to someone.

Instead of simply listening and responding, part of your attention is doing this:

Where should I put my hands?

Am I talking too fast?

They looked away. Are they bored?

Was that joke stupid?

I’m blushing.

They can tell I’m nervous.

Should I stop talking?

Now I’m being too quiet.

You’re having the conversation. And also watching yourself have the conversation.

Cognitive models of social anxiety have long emphasized self-focused attention as a maintaining process. When attention shifts inward, people may become more focused on their own sensations, thoughts, and imagined appearance to others. That internal information can then be used as evidence about how they must look or sound externally—for example, “I feel anxious, so I must look obviously anxious” (Clark & Wells, 1995; Spurr & Stopa, 2002).

The annoying part? The more attention you’re using to monitor yourself, the less attention is available for the actual conversation. So then the conversation may feel less natural. Which your brain interprets as: See? I knew I was being weird. Very efficient feedback loop.

Then Comes the Post-Game Review

Maybe you make it through the interaction. Excellent.

Now your brain would like to review the footage.

Why did I say that?

They probably thought that was weird.

I should’ve asked them more questions.

Did I interrupt?

Maybe my tone sounded annoyed.

Why did I tell that story?

They definitely noticed I was nervous.

This is often called post-event processing or post-event rumination.

A 2024 systematic review and meta-analysis found a moderate association between post-event rumination and social anxiety symptoms (Li et al., 2024).

Meaning that the conversation ends…but mentally, you remain at the scene.

Interviewing witnesses.

Reviewing security footage.

Reconstructing events.

At some point, this is no longer reflection. This is CSI: Brunch.

Reflection and Rumination Feel Similar

This is one of the trickier distinctions. Because rumination often feels productive.

You’re thinking about yourself.

You’re analyzing what happened.

You’re trying to learn.

That sounds like self-awareness.

But ask: Am I discovering anything new?

Reflection usually has movement. I noticed I became defensive when I felt criticized. Next time I want to pause before responding.

Okay. Useful.

Rumination sounds more like:Why did I get defensive? I shouldn’t have gotten defensive. Did they think I was defensive? Maybe I have a problem with criticism. Why do I have a problem with criticism? I thought I was doing better with this. What if I’m actually not self-aware at all?

Forty-five minutes later, we have produced no new information. Just additional distress.

Research characterizes rumination as repetitive negative thinking that can prolong negative mood, interfere with problem-solving, and contribute across multiple psychological difficulties (Watkins & Roberts, 2020).

So here’s a useful question: Am I learning, or am I looping?

Body Awareness Can Become Body Surveillance Too

Self-monitoring doesn’t only happen with thoughts and behavior. Sometimes we start closely watching the body.

Is my heart beating faster?

Why does my chest feel tight?

Am I dizzy?

Do I feel anxious yet?

Is this feeling getting worse?

Body awareness can be useful. Knowing your physical cues can help you recognize stress, emotions, hunger, exhaustion, and other needs. But anxiety can shift body awareness into threat monitoring.

A 2024 systematic review and meta-analysis found that anxiety was associated with greater negative attention and sensitivity toward bodily sensations, as well as more negative evaluations of those signals (Murphy et al., 2024).

The difference might look like:

Awareness: “My heart is beating quickly.”

versus:

Monitoring: “My heart is beating quickly. Is it faster now? Why? Is something wrong? Is this anxiety? Am I about to panic?”

Same heartbeat. Very different relationship with it.

Sometimes Self-Monitoring Is an Attempt to Prevent Judgment

Underneath constant self-monitoring is often a perfectly understandable goal: I don’t want to get it wrong.

Maybe you don’t want to:

• Upset someone.
• Look foolish.
• Be misunderstood.
• Appear selfish.
• Take up too much space.
• Say the wrong thing.
• Miss a social cue.
• Have an emotion that’s “too much.”
• Have an emotion that’s “not enough.”

So you keep checking yourself.

• Am I okay?
• Am I doing this right?
• Am I acceptable right now?

And unfortunately, no amount of monitoring can provide a permanent answer. Because human interaction contains uncertainty.

You can behave thoughtfully and someone may still misunderstand you.

You can say something perfectly reasonable and later wish you’d phrased it differently.

You can feel anxious and have other people notice.

You can be awkward sometimes.

You can accidentally interrupt.

You can tell a joke that lands approximately nowhere.

This is the unfortunate cost of interacting with other mammals.

Therapy Language Can Become Part of the Problem

This deserves its own section.

Sometimes people learn a lot of therapy language and then use it to monitor themselves more efficiently.

Am I regulating?

Am I dysregulated?

Is this my trauma response?

Am I projecting?

Is this avoidance?

Am I setting a boundary or being controlling?

Was that validation or reassurance?

Am I in Emotion Mind?

These concepts are supposed to help us understand our experiences. They are not supposed to become an internal compliance department. You do not need to categorize every single human moment.

Sometimes you’re irritated because you’re irritated.

Sometimes you say something awkward.

Sometimes you respond imperfectly.

Sometimes you don’t know exactly why you’re feeling something.

You are allowed to remain temporarily undiagnosed by yourself.

“But What If I Stop Paying Attention and Miss Something?”

This is usually the fear.

If I stop monitoring myself…

• What if I become inconsiderate?
• What if I don’t notice a problem?
• What if I embarrass myself?
• What if I repeat an unhealthy pattern?

The answer isn’t to stop reflecting entirely. It’s to move from continuous monitoring to intentional check-ins.

Imagine driving a car.

You occasionally check the mirrors. Useful.

Now imagine driving while staring into the rearview mirror continuously because you want to make absolutely certain nothing is happening behind you.

We have created a new problem.

Self-awareness works similarly.

Checking in: How am I feeling? Useful.

Watching yourself every second for evidence that you’re feeling incorrectly? Less useful.

Try Moving Your Attention Outward

If you notice yourself monitoring heavily during an interaction, gently redirect attention toward the environment.

• What is the person actually saying?
• What color is the room?
• What sounds do you hear?
• What are you genuinely curious about?
• What is happening outside of you?

This doesn’t mean forcefully suppressing self-awareness. You’re expanding the attentional field.

Instead of: ME. ME. ME. WHAT AM I DOING? it becomes: I’m here, and there’s also an entire world happening around me.

For social anxiety in particular, CBT approaches often work on shifting excessively self-focused attention outward because internally generated impressions can be distorted and may maintain anxiety.

Try the “One Review” Rule

If you’re prone to replaying interactions, give yourself one intentional review.

Ask: Is there anything useful I want to learn from this?

Maybe: I interrupted them twice. I want to slow down next time.

Okay.

Done.

Or:

I think I communicated clearly. I’m just uncomfortable because they seemed disappointed.

Useful.

Then stop reopening the case.

Your brain may say: But what if there’s something else we missed?

Probably.

Humans miss things.

That’s going to have to be okay.

You’re looking for useful information, not a guarantee that you performed the interaction perfectly.

Ask: “What Am I Hoping Monitoring Will Give Me?”

Maybe:

• Certainty.
• Approval.
• Protection from embarrassment.
• Proof that you’re a good person.
• Confirmation that you’re behaving correctly.
• Control over how others perceive you.

Then ask: Can monitoring actually give me that? Usually, only temporarily. Because once your brain receives one answer, it can generate another question.

I think I handled that okay.

But are you sure?

Pretty sure.

How sure?

And now we’re back at work.

Practice Participating Instead of Performing

This might be the biggest shift. In a conversation, are you participating? Or are you performing being a person correctly?

Participation allows:

• Pauses.
• Imperfect wording.
• Not knowing what to say.
• Being nervous.
• Changing the subject awkwardly.
• Laughing too loudly.
• Telling a story that doesn’t land.
• Taking a moment to think.
• Existing without constantly imagining yourself through someone else’s eyes.

Performance asks: How am I doing?

Participation asks: What is happening?

Try choosing participation. It will probably feel less controlled. That’s partly the point.

You Don’t Need to Stop Being Self-Aware

Self-awareness is valuable.

Keep noticing patterns.

Keep learning about yourself.

Keep reflecting.

Keep taking accountability.

But perhaps notice when awareness stops being curious and starts becoming evaluative.

When: “What am I feeling?” becomes: “Am I feeling the correct thing?”

When: “How did that interaction go?” becomes: “Let’s analyze every word until I can guarantee nobody thought poorly of me.”

When: “I noticed something about myself.” becomes: “I now need to monitor myself continuously so this never happens again.”

That’s when awareness has stopped being a tool. It’s become surveillance.

You Are Allowed to Be Inside Your Life

You don’t have to watch yourself live it.

You don’t need a running commentary.

You don’t need to know how you’re being perceived every second.

You don’t have to analyze every emotional shift.

You don’t need to catch every imperfect behavior before anyone else notices.

You are allowed to lose track of yourself occasionally because you’re genuinely engaged in what’s happening.

Laugh without checking how loud you were.

Tell the story without grading it halfway through.

Feel anxious without monitoring exactly how anxious.

Have the conversation without simultaneously writing the performance review.

And when you do notice something worth reflecting on?

Great.

Reflect.

Learn.

Adjust if needed.

Then return to your life.

Because the goal of self-awareness isn’t to become incredibly skilled at watching yourself exist.

It’s to understand yourself well enough that you can actually participate in your own life.

The clipboard can come down now. HR will contact you if there are any concerns.

References

Li, Y., Li, G., Yang, Y., Wu, H., & Chen, J. (2024). Post-event rumination and social anxiety: A systematic review and meta-analysis. Journal of Affective Disorders, 352, 153–162. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jad.2024.02.074

Mor, N., & Winquist, J. (2002). Self-focused attention and negative affect: A meta-analysis. Psychological Bulletin, 128(4), 638–662. https://doi.org/10.1037/0033-2909.128.4.638

Moser, J. S., Moran, T. P., Schroder, H. S., Donnellan, M. B., & Yeung, N. (2013). On the relationship between anxiety and error monitoring: A meta-analysis and conceptual framework. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 7, 466. https://doi.org/10.3389/fnhum.2013.00466

Murphy, J., Catmur, C., & Bird, G. (2024). The relationship between self-reported interoception and anxiety: A systematic review and meta-analysis. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews, 166, 105923. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neubiorev.2024.105923

Spurr, J. M., & Stopa, L. (2002). Self-focused attention in social phobia and social anxiety. Clinical Psychology Review, 22(7), 947–975. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0272-7358(02)00107-1

Watkins, E. R., & Roberts, H. (2020). Reflecting on rumination: Consequences, causes, mechanisms and treatment of rumination. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 127, 103573. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.brat.2020.103573