The Overfunctioning Trap: How Doing Everything for Everyone Is Costing You Real Love

OK, real talk. Are you reading this while replying to texts, planning dinner, and mentally organizing your schedule for tomorrow? If so, I see you. I am you.

And I want to gently call something in: what happens when you stop doing all the things and just sit still?

If your nervous system short-circuits at the thought of rest, you’re not alone. Most of us were taught, explicitly or not, that our worth is tied to our productivity. That love looks like sacrifice. That being busy means being valuable.

This is the sneaky, socially sanctioned cycle of overfunctioning. And it’s time we name it for what it is.

What Is Overfunctioning?

Overfunctioning is when you become the person who just handles it. You know, the one who remembers birthdays, picks up the slack, makes the plans, smooths out the conflict, fills the silence, anticipates everyone’s needs, and shows up even when you’re falling apart inside.

You might be known as “the glue that holds everything together.” You might feel proud of that. You might also feel totally and utterly trapped.

Because when you’re constantly managing, fixing, organizing, and doing, you rarely get the chance to simply be. And let’s be real: that kind of nonstop output doesn’t come from a peaceful place. It comes from fear, anxiety, and a nervous system shaped by trauma, capitalism, and conditional love.

When Love Becomes Management

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: overfunctioning isn’t love. It’s anxiety masquerading as care.

It’s what happens when you outsource your self-worth to how much you can do for others. When your safety depends on being indispensable. When deep down, there’s a belief that if you’re not needed, you’ll be abandoned.

Like my client Monica, who cleaned her teenage son’s room—not because it was a disaster, not because he asked, but because she couldn’t tolerate the anxiety of him coming home to mess. She said she wanted him to feel cared for. And of course, we believe her. But underneath that, she was managing her own fears of being a “bad mom.” That if she didn’t do everything perfectly, he might not need her. And if he didn’t need her? The spiral begins.

The Cost of Doing It All

When you overfunction, you send a subtle but potent message: “I don’t trust you to handle this.” Whether it’s to your partner, your kid, your friend, or your colleague, the impact is the same. You become the project manager of someone else’s life, and they stop showing up as a full human in your relationship.

This doesn’t just disempower them. It also leaves you exhausted, resentful, and deeply unseen. Because while you’re out here doing the emotional labor of ten people, you’re also silently hoping for someone to notice. To reciprocate. To thank you. And often, they don’t. Or they can’t. Because you’ve trained them to expect this level of caretaking as normal.

Cue the resentment. Cue the rage. Cue the slow-burning realization that you created a dynamic that now feels like a prison.

Overfunctioning Is Not Sustainable and It’s Not Love

Here’s the wildest part: the very people you’re working so hard to care for may start to experience you as controlling. And in some ways, they’re not wrong. Because if your caretaking is about managing their emotions, preventing their discomfort, or orchestrating outcomes, that’s not love. That’s control.

That’s rescuing people from consequences.
That’s deciding what they “should” want.
That’s making 10 years of dinner decisions for a partner who never asked you to.

That’s not intimacy. It’s performance. And it creates a one-way relationship that suffocates both people involved.

The Resentment Beneath the Martyrdom

Let’s name the iceberg: underneath overfunctioning lives a mountain of unspoken resentment. You do it all, and yet somehow, you’re still not met with the love or appreciation you crave. And if you’re honest? You might be furious.

But that fury doesn’t get expressed. Because you were taught that good people, especially good women, don’t have needs. They don’t take up space. They don’t get mad.

So it leaks out sideways. Snapping about dishes. Melting down when no one says thank you. Feeling like you’re 27 different kinds of banana boat crazy when really? You’re just. So. Tired.

How to Start Letting Go of Overfunctioning

Here’s the truth most people avoid: when you stop overfunctioning, stuff falls apart. At least temporarily. People will be disappointed. They might even be mad. Your nervous system will scream, “This is not safe.”

Because for many of us, keeping everyone else happy equals safety. That was the contract. But that contract is expired. And now it’s time to write a new one.

One where you are not responsible for everyone’s comfort.
One where your worth is not measured in output.
One where real love is based on mutuality, not martyrdom.

Your Real People Want You to Rest

When you stop overfunctioning, you get to find out who your real people are. The ones who love you, not your usefulness. The ones who want you to have preferences, to rest, to be supported.

Because real love doesn’t want you exhausted. Real love doesn’t need you to be perfect. Real love is a two-way street with room for both people to be fully human.

Want Help Unlearning Overfunctioning?

This is exactly what I break down in my upcoming book, End Emotional Outsourcing. You’ll learn how to:

• Break the cycle of self-abandonment

• Set boundaries without guilt

• Stop confusing control for care

• Reclaim your sense of worth, outside of what you do

The book drops September 30, but you can pre-order now at beatrizalbina.com/book and get instant access to juicy bonus tools to help you start loving without managing.

You Are Worthy Even When You’re Not Doing

You don’t have to earn your place in this world by doing everything for everyone. You don’t have to trade your exhaustion for affection. You can be loved, truly loved, just for being you.

It’s safe to rest, my beauty. You deserve it.