You know that moment when someone asks where you want to eat, and your brain just freezes? Not because you don’t have preferences, but because you’re mentally calculating everyone else’s potential reactions to every possible suggestion?
I spent years thinking this was just being considerate. Turns out, it was one of many decision-making patterns I’d picked up from growing up in a household where the wrong choice meant lectures, disappointment, or worse.
If you were raised in a strict household, you probably developed some sophisticated survival strategies.
The problem? Those same strategies that kept you safe as a kid can sabotage your decisions as an adult.
Authoritarian parenting styles create specific neural patterns around decision-making. These patterns stick around long after you’ve moved out and built your own life.
Here are eight decision-making habits that tend to plague adults who grew up under strict rules.
1) You overthink simple choices until they become complex problems
Remember when choosing the wrong breakfast cereal could trigger a 20-minute lecture about gratitude? Your brain learned that no decision is truly simple.
Now you’re 35 and spending 45 minutes comparing restaurant reviews for a casual lunch. You draft three versions of a basic work email. You research vacuum cleaners like you’re buying a car.
This is a deeply ingrained belief that mistakes have disproportionate consequences.
I once spent two hours researching the “right” birthday card for a coworker I barely knew, for someone who probably wouldn’t remember receiving it a week later.
The fix isn’t to “just relax.”
Start by setting decision timers. Give yourself five minutes for lunch choices, two minutes for routine emails.
When the timer goes off, you go with whatever option you’re leaning toward. The world won’t end.
2) You avoid making decisions that might disappoint others
Strict households often operate on one principle: keep the peace at all costs. You learned early that your choices affected everyone’s mood, and disappointing someone meant consequences.
Now you’re the person who says “I don’t mind” when asked for your preference. You agree to social plans you don’t want. You take on projects that aren’t your responsibility.
You’re not weighing what you want against what others want. You’re only considering what others want.
I had one parent who expected everything handled without complaint, another who needed emotional management.
I became the translator, always calculating the safest path through both sets of expectations.
That skill made me capable but left me emotionally delayed in recognizing my own needs.
The next time someone asks your preference on something minor, give your actual preference.
3) You procrastinate on decisions that feel “too big”
When you grew up where wrong decisions meant serious consequences, your brain learned to categorize certain choices as dangerous. Now anything that feels significant triggers that same threat response.
Job changes, relationship decisions, major purchases. These sit in your mental inbox for months while you “gather more information.” Really, you’re waiting for a guarantee that you won’t regret it.
This procrastination is actually a form of decision. By not choosing, you’re choosing the status quo.
But your brain doesn’t register it that way, so you get all the stress with none of the resolution.
Break big decisions into smaller ones.
Instead of “Should I change careers?” try “Should I update my LinkedIn?”
Moreover, instead of “Should I end this relationship?” try “Should I have an honest conversation about my needs?”
4) You seek excessive validation before acting
You poll six friends about a haircut. You need three opinions on a work email. You can’t buy a couch without checking with everyone who might ever sit on it.
This is about distributing responsibility so if something goes wrong, it’s not entirely your fault.
Strict households often punish independent thinking. You learned that running decisions by authority figures was safer than trusting your judgment.
Now you’re 40 and still looking for permission to make your own choices.
Pick one decision this week to make entirely alone. Don’t discuss it, don’t hint at it, don’t seek subtle validation.
Make it, own it, live with it.
Start with something low-stakes, like choosing a new book or trying a different coffee order.
5) You change your mind when you sense resistance
You suggest Italian for dinner.
Someone makes a face and, suddenly, you’re backtracking: “Or we could do Thai? Mexican? Whatever you want!”
This instant flexibility is a learned response from when standing your ground meant conflict you couldn’t win.
Your nervous system still reacts to mild disagreement like it’s a threat. Heart rate up, muscles tense, brain scanning for the quickest exit from conflict.
Practice holding your position for just five seconds after someone objects. Don’t argue, don’t defend, just let your choice exist in the space.
“I’d prefer Italian, but I’m open to discussing options.”
Notice the difference between discussing and immediately abandoning.
6) You catastrophize potential outcomes
Your brain doesn’t just consider what might go wrong. It writes entire screenplays about it. One wrong decision doesn’t just mean a bad outcome; it means complete disaster.
This comes from growing up where mistakes had amplified consequences.
Forget your homework? That’s a lecture about your future, your character, your fundamental worth as a person.
Now you’re an adult and your brain still runs this program. A mistake at work means firing, poverty, total life collapse.
When you catch yourself catastrophizing, ask: “What’s the most likely outcome?”
Not the best or worst, the most likely.
Then ask: “If that happens, what would I actually do?”
Having a realistic plan shrinks the catastrophe down to manageable size.
7) You struggle to trust your gut instincts
Strict households often override children’s instincts.
Tired? Too bad.
Not hungry? Eat anyway.
Something feels off? You’re being dramatic.
After years of being told your feelings were wrong, you learned to distrust your internal compass.
Now you need external evidence for what you already know inside.
You feel uncomfortable around someone but can’t explain why, so you ignore it. Your gut says no to an opportunity, but you can’t find logical reasons, so you say yes.
Start tracking your instincts in low-stakes situations.
Write down your gut feeling about how a TV show will end, whether you’ll like a new restaurant, if it will rain.
Notice how often your first instinct was right, and build evidence that your internal system works.
8) You default to the “safe” choice even when you can afford risk
Your life might be stable now.
Good job, savings account, support system, but your decision-making still operates like you’re one wrong choice from disaster.
You stay in jobs you’ve outgrown, you maintain relationships that don’t serve you, and you choose predictable over potentially rewarding.
I learned early that if you do everything right, nobody will be disappointed. That belief stuck around long after I realized it was both impossible and exhausting.
The thing about always choosing safe? It’s still a risk.
You’re risking growth, satisfaction, the life you actually want versus the life that won’t upset anyone.
Bottom line
These patterns are outdated software that once kept you safe, but you’re not in that strict household anymore and these old programs are holding you back.
Pick one pattern that resonates and focus on catching it in action this week.
Don’t try to fix it yet, just notice it.
“Oh, there I go, overthinking lunch again.”
“Look at that, I’m polling everyone about this minor decision.”
Awareness is the first step.
Once you see the pattern, you can start making different choices.
Small ones at first; building evidence that it’s safe to trust yourself, disappoint others occasionally, make imperfect decisions.
You survived the strict household.
These patterns helped you do that, but you’re trying to build a life that feels like yours.
That starts with making decisions like the adult you are, not the child you had to be.
