The anxious overachiever: growing fast leaves us behind
In a culture obsessed with progress and acceleration, many ambitious young people are sprinting through their twenties and thirties at a pace that looks impressive on paper but feels hollow in practice. They land prestigious jobs early, pursue advanced degrees back-to-back, build careers or startups before fully building themselves – all while running on the fuel of anxiety and the need to prove their worth. What appears to be success often masks an unrelenting fear of being not enough.
The Neuroscience of Overdrive
Neuroscience shows that anxious overachievers live with a heightened stress response. The amygdala – the brain’s alarm centre – is often overactive, perceiving career timelines and social comparisons as threats. In turn, the prefrontal cortex, responsible for rational planning and perspective, can be hijacked by stress hormones like cortisol. Instead of measured progress, this neurological cocktail pushes people into compulsive acceleration: more work, more credentials, more milestones, faster.
Yet the brain needs rhythm, not constant escalation. Neural plasticity – our capacity to adapt and grow – thrives on deliberate pauses, reflection and varied experiences. Skipping crucial phases in life can mean missing the neurological scaffolding needed for resilience, creativity and deep relationships.
The Missing Phases of Life
Psychologists have long emphasised that adulthood unfolds in stages. Erik Erikson’s developmental theory, for example, places the twenties and thirties as key years for identity and intimacy. These are decades not only for career exploration but also for building meaningful friendships, learning how to love well, and experimenting with who we want to be.
But anxious overachievers often bypass these stages. They invest heavily in work while postponing or neglecting the cultivation of friendships, community and even rest. Friendships, however, are not timelessly interchangeable – they evolve with life’s chapters. University friends, early work colleagues, parenting circles: each stage offers its own bonds, and skipping them can lead to loneliness later, when it becomes harder to catch up.
The Psychology of Proving Yourself
At the core of overachieving lies an anxious attachment to the idea of self-worth. Many high performers struggle with what psychologists call contingent self-esteem – the belief that value comes only through achievement. This mindset creates a treadmill effect: no matter how much you accomplish, the next goal looms larger. What is sacrificed is the joy of presence.
Here is where the concept of the Joy of Missing Out (JOMO) becomes liberating. Unlike the fear of missing out (FOMO), which drives anxious striving, JOMO recognises that not every opportunity needs to be seized, not every phase rushed. True balance often comes from consciously choosing *not* to do everything and allowing space for experiences that unfold slowly.
Building a Healthier Balance
Finding equilibrium in a chaotic, pressurised world means consciously resisting the narrative of constant acceleration. Some practices rooted in neuroscience and psychology include:
Prioritising relationships: Social connection reduces stress responses in the brain and increases oxytocin, the hormone of trust and belonging. Prioritising friendships is as important as prioritising promotions.
Phased growth: Think of career and identity not as a straight climb, but as a spiral staircase. Each phase revisits old themes (self-discovery, connection, purpose) with new perspective. Skipping steps may save time now but cost stability later.
Embracing JOMO: Learn to celebrate the opportunities you don’t take. A quiet evening, a delayed milestone, or a simpler path can protect mental health and build sustainable happiness.
Redefining success: From a neuroscience standpoint, the brain’s reward circuits respond not only to external markers like pay rises but also to intrinsic satisfaction, creativity, and belonging. Success needs to include these internal rewards.
Anxious overachievers may look like they are winning the race, but human development is not a sprint – it is a marathon with scenic pauses. Growing too fast without absorbing the lessons of each life phase is like skipping chapters in a novel: you reach the end sooner but miss the story’s meaning.
The twenties and thirties are not simply for proving oneself – they are for building scaffolding: friendships that evolve, careers that have room for detours and identities that are flexible rather than fragile. In a world of chaos and pressures, the real achievement lies not in racing ahead but in finding a sustainable rhythm that allows us to arrive whole.
