How do i stop over-explaining simple answers?
the itch to explain and explain
Line at the grocery store. Cashier: “Need a bag?”
Me, panicking: “Well, I brought a tote but it’s got my lunch in it and the salad dressing leaked, so maybe - actually, let’s play it safe - yeah, I’ll take one.”
Thirty words where one - “yes” - would’ve done.
If you do the same, you know the feeling: heart racing, brain sprinting, voice filling every quiet spot in a ten-mile radius. You’re not trying to hog airtime. You’re trying to dodge misunderstandings, judgment, awkward silences, all the social landmines. Social anxiety whispers, “Explain everything or they’ll think you’re weird.” So we do. And then we walk away replaying it all, facepalming in spirit.
Good news: the habit isn’t carved in stone. It’s like a playlist you can edit - takes a few clicks, but totally doable.
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what all that talking does (and doesn’t) do
Over-explaining feels safe, but it backfires.
- It floods the listener with info they didn’t ask for, which can make them zone out or worry you don’t trust them to get it.
- It uses up your social battery faster, and nobody with anxiety needs extra drain.
- It muddies your own thinking - the more branches you add, the harder it is to find the trunk.
What it doesn’t do: magically guarantee approval. People decide what they think of us for a bunch of reasons, most beyond our control. Extra sentences rarely shift the verdict.
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tactics to keep it short without feeling rude
1. Start with the headline
Lead with your simplest answer (yes / no / Thursday / downstairs). If more detail is truly needed, they’ll ask. Think of it like Google snippets - the basic answer first, link to expanded info only if someone clicks.
2. Breathe-check before you speak
Seriously. One slow inhale buys you half a second to choose a concise sentence instead of unleashing the director’s cut. It also chills your nervous system, which is the real puppet master here.
3. Ask a clarifying question instead of guessing the syllabus
Friend: “How was the trip?”
You (politely): “Good! Want the two-minute version or the juicy saga?”
Now you know how much runway you’ve got.
4. Use number caps
“Three quick things…” or “One sentence answer: yes.” Saying the cap out loud keeps you honest and sets listener expectations.
5. End with a handoff
Wrap your answer and lob the ball back: “Hope that helps - anything else you need?” This cue tells your brain, “We’re done here,” and tells them it’s their turn if they’re curious.
6. Practice text-size answers in writing
Challenge: reply to a friend’s DM in 15 words or less. Writing trains brevity muscles in low-stakes territory, then the skill bleeds into speech.
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practice mini answers on safe people and screens
Shrinking answers feels risky, so start where judgment is low.
- Voice notes to yourself. Ask a fake question, give a ten-second answer, play it back. You’ll hear where you rambled.
- Trusted buddy pact. Agree to ping each other when one of you exceeds, say, 30 seconds on a yes/no topic. Turn it into a running joke - pressure melts when you can laugh at it.
- Video games/Zoom calls with strangers. Quick, low-emotion exchanges are perfect for testing one-liner responses.
Each rep teaches your brain that short answers don’t cause explosions. Proof beats reassurance every time.
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quick recap for the road
Over-explaining is social armor that’s gotten too heavy. Strip it down: lead with the headline, breathe, ask what level of detail they want, cap your points, hand off the convo. Train in low-stakes spaces until brevity feels normal.
Next time someone asks if you need a bag, try the single word. Notice how the ceiling doesn’t collapse. Then celebrate that tiny victory - because every concise answer is one step out of anxiety’s shadow and into chilled-out, confident you.
Written by Tom Brainbun