Why Overcompensating Isn’t the Flex You Think It Is

Summary: You know that feeling—that constant chase to prove you’re doing okay? Maybe it’s through the perfect job, the right wardrobe, or that flawless life you share online. It’s exhausting, isn’t it? If you’ve ever felt like you’re running on empty while trying to look like you’ve got it all together, this post is for you. Let’s talk about why you’re chasing, why it never feels like enough, and how to finally stop proving and start living.



I’m getting better, but I used to be that person—the one who tied her self-worth to what she owned. Designer bags, newly leased cars, and way too many clothes were my badges of honor. If I’m being honest, at the time, I didn’t understand why, but I thought having all that would make me feel better—more accomplished, confident, and maybe even a little invincible. It didn’t, and I wasn’t self-aware enough to recognize it.

For me, it wasn’t just about material things. I was on overdrive in every part of my life—chasing success, hustling to hit career goals, and trying to prove (to myself and everyone else) that I was polished and put together. On paper, I looked the part. But behind the scenes, I was running on fumes, constantly chasing a feeling that I never seemed to catch.

When I finally slowed down and did the uncomfortable inner work, it became crystal clear to me: all that shopping and striving wasn’t about wanting more—it was about needing validation, needing proof that I mattered. It sounds really soft, but that’s the truth. Those bags and promotions weren’t just things I wanted; they were armor. If I could present the perfect image, maybe no one would see the cracks underneath. At the time, it felt like survival. Now, I know it was classic overcompensation.

I learned that no amount of “more” can fix what feels broken inside. It’s like pouring water into a bucket with a giant hole in the bottom—it’ll never fill. Not ever.

These days, I’m not that person anymore (well, not entirely). Sure, I still love nice things and won’t pretend I don’t enjoy a great outfit. But I’m learning to let go. Little by little, I’ve been giving things away to family and friends, donating when possible, and shifting my focus to what really matters. And while I’m far from perfect, I’ve made huge progress.

The best part? I’ve finally started to love me, not the stuff. I’ve stopped caring what anyone thinks about my life, how I look, my wardrobe, or what I drive. And if someone out there wants to judge me for driving my husband’s pickup truck for now instead of leasing another Infiniti? That’s a them problem, not a me problem. Deciding not to lease another new car was a huge step for me—it felt like I was finally letting go of something I used to think defined my worth. Honestly, anyone judging me for anything I do these days probably has their own healing to do—which is exactly why I’m writing this. I hope this resonates with someone out there who’s felt the way I did. I want you to feel more than just the stuff you own.

How many times have you caught yourself thinking, I’ll finally feel complete when…? You know—when you get the promotion, the fit body, buy the dream house, upgrade your car, or finally get your shit together. And sure, those achievements feel incredible. For a moment, you’re on top of the world, thinking—This is it. I’ve made it.

But then what? The high fades (because it always does), and suddenly, you’re back to the next thing. Another purchase, another goal, another way to prove you’re doing okay. Exhausting, right? That’s because you’re not just chasing things—you’re chasing validation, trying to fill an invisible void.

This is where compensatory behavior1 comes in. Psychologists define it as using external achievements, possessions, or roles to make up for internal insecurities or wounds. It’s like trying to patch up what feels “off” on the inside with shiny things on the outside. And sure, it might work temporarily, but it’s never the long-term solution we hope it’ll be.

What you may really need—though you might not realize it (I didn’t)—is inner healing, really working on yourself and your core beliefs, not another outfit, a pair of expensive shoes, a car, or applause from others. You need to reach a place where you feel successful, loved, and valuable without the constant need for material proof. When you learn to validate yourself from within, the need to flaunt fades because your worth isn’t tied to things. It might sound like a cliché, but true worth really does come from within.

Compensatory behavior can sneak into everyday life in all kinds of ways, and it’s not always as obvious as buying nice things. Sometimes, it’s about trying to prove yourself in ways that feel “productive” or even selfless. But no matter how it looks, it’s often about trying to feel worthy or valuable when, deep down, something feels off.

Some common ways it can show up:

  1. Shopping to Feel Important: Splurging on luxury items, showing off a new purchase, or posting about an expensive lifestyle on social media are classic examples. It’s not just about enjoying the stuff—it’s about proving (to yourself or others) that you’re doing okay, compensating for a deep-seated fear that without these things, you’re less valuable or lovable.
  2. Hustling for Approval: Setting nonstop career goals, working ridiculous hours, or pushing yourself past your limits. If your achievements feel like the only thing holding your self-worth together, that’s a sign of compensatory behavior.
  3. Perfectionism and Overachievement: Striving for perfect grades, flawless performance, or constant recognition. For some, being “perfect” becomes a way to avoid feeling not good enough.
  4. Obsessing Over Appearances: Whether it’s about your body, your outfit, or how perfect your house looks in a photo, focusing on appearances can be a way to mask insecurity. This includes curating the perfect social media life to prove you’re thriving. You might not care about designer bags, but have you spent 15 minutes positioning a coffee mug for the “casual” selfie?
  5. Over-the-Top People-Pleasing: Compensating for low self-worth by constantly seeking approval from others, saying yes when you want to say no, bending over backward to avoid conflict, or constantly putting others first to feel accepted.
  6. Always being “on” for others: Overexplaining how busy you are or how much you’ve accomplished? That’s compensation. It’s quieter than a flashy flex, but it still says, Look, I’m valuable because of what I can do.
  7. Needing to Control Everything: If you’ve experienced a lack of control or safety in your past, you may feel the need to always be in charge or micromanage every detail. For some, control feels like the only way to avoid chaos or vulnerability when sometimes it’s the primary cause.
  8. Being the “fixer”: Some of us don’t flex with stuff—we flex with being essential. Rescuing coworkers, saving relationships, or solving problems no one asked us to? It’s rooted in, I’m worthy because I’m needed.

Whether it’s possessions, achievements, or spinning 17 plates at once, it’s all compensation. You’re trying to fill a space that feels off-limits to anything but approval from others.

What makes this so tricky is that compensatory behavior feels productive. It feels like progress. You’re buying, achieving, helping, grinding—whatever keeps you busy. You think you’re solving the problem, but you’re really just layering on distractions. Why? Because doing the actual work—figuring out why that emptiness is there in the first place—is messy and hard. Who has time for that when there are goals to hit, carts to check out, and feelings that are way too scary to face?

Keep in mind that compensating is never a one-and-done. You never get to a point where you’re like, Cool, I’ve flexed enough. My internal void is officially closed. That’s the trap. It doesn’t end because it’s not designed to. The flex only works as long as you keep chasing it.

Okay, so now that we know what it is, why do we do it?

Compensatory behavior doesn’t come out of nowhere. A lot of it starts in those tender, difficult parts of your childhood—the ones you’d rather not think or talk about. There’s probably some unresolved trauma or unmet needs that you have never addressed. Maybe you were criticized for not being “good enough,” ignored when you needed love the most, or constantly compared to someone else (who, by the way, was never that great). Over time, you start to believe that being you isn’t going to cut it.

So, what do you do? You hustle for your worth.

Instead of asking yourself the hard (and scary) question—Am I enough just as I am? —you bypass it entirely. You throw everything you’ve got into performance, appearances, or possessions. Basically, you start building a house that looks rock-solid from the outside—beautiful, perfect even. But underneath? That foundation is cracked, shaky, and just waiting for the right gust of wind to bring the whole thing crashing down.

How It Plays Out

If your childhood taught you that love or approval only came when you earned it, it’s no wonder you’d carry that mindset into adulthood.

  • Criticized a lot as a kid? You might obsess over success and achievement, believing that you’ll finally be “enough” when you hit the next big milestone.
  • Ignored or overlooked? Maybe you compensate by making yourself unmissable—dressing to impress, flexing your accomplishments, or becoming the loudest one in the room.
  • Made to feel small? You go big. Oversized life, oversized goals, oversized everything—anything to make sure no one (including yourself) ever sees you as less than again.
  • Grew up with a parent obsessed with appearances or status? If your parent focused a lot on looks, material things, or social standing, you might have picked up the belief that these are the keys to being valued. Kids absorb more than we realize, and those priorities can stick with you into adulthood.

It’s survival, plain and simple. You’re not being “extra” because you’re vain or shallow. You’re trying to patch the cracks.

Compensatory behavior doesn’t always start in childhood—sometimes, the seeds are planted there and grow in ways you don’t expect. For me, it was both. Inner child work helped me realize how much my need to prove myself came from those early years. But adulthood didn’t exactly let me off the hook.

Take my 20s, for example. Back then, I shopped (maybe too much), but it wasn’t at Chanel or Burberry. I was busy building my career, paying my bills, and saving for the future. And then, in my 30s, I met a coworker who was the Flex Queen. She was always flaunting brands, asking where I shopped (with that tone), and dropping designer names into every conversation like they were basic necessities.

Her comments made me question myself: Am I behind? Should I be spending more to look like I belong (even though I liked my style)? She was younger than me, and that stung even more. For the first time, I felt like what I had wasn’t enough—and the spiral started.

Looking back now, I feel bad for her (and me). Maybe she needed those things for the same reason I did later on: to prove she was doing okay, to fill a void she didn’t want to face. But at the time, I wasn’t thinking about her—I was too busy questioning myself.

No matter when or why it started—whether it’s a messy childhood or that coworker who treats Dior like a uniform—compensatory behavior keeps you stuck in an exhausting cycle. You’re chasing more, thinking it’ll fix something deep down, but it never does.

I’m not here to tell you to stop caring about success or to donate your entire closet to charity (unless you want to—then, please do). But what I am saying is this: you have to have an unfiltered heart-to-heart with yourself by shifting your focus inward and building a rock-solid foundation of worth that doesn’t rely on what you have or how others see you.

You can start by asking yourself why. Ask yourself why you’re doing what you’re doing. What are you trying to prove—and to whom?Do these things genuinely bring you joy—or is it because Instagram needs to know you’ve ‘arrived’? That kind of self-awareness is the first step. You need the courage to sit with yourself—tough emotions and all—and answer those questions. Then, the extremely difficult (yet super satisfying) part is to do the actual work to heal.

The ‘why’ is your foundation; now, let’s add a few more tools to your self-awareness toolkit to keep the momentum going:

  • Challenge the Inner Critic: That annoying inner critic whispering, ‘You’re not enough’? Time to shut it down. Therapy, coaching, repeating and believing in positive affirmations, or even journaling can help you rewrite those stories. Trust me, these work.
  • Practice Self-Compassion: Be as kind to yourself as you would to a child or your best friend. You’re human, not a highlight reel. Nudge yourself when necessary, but be sympathetic, too. Balance.
  • Reclaim Your Values: What truly matters to you? Connection, growth, creativity—these are the things that build real, lasting fulfillment.
  • Embrace Authenticity: Would you still buy that thing or chase that goal if no one ever found out? If the answer’s no, then it’s time to realign with what actually feels right for you.

Once you start believing that you’re worthy as-is, the need to compensate fades. It doesn’t happen overnight—it’s not magic. But little by little, you realize you’ve been enough this whole time. No Hermès bags, job titles, six-figure salaries, or back-to-back wins required.

And the funny thing? Once you stop trying to fill the void, those things you thought you needed? They lose their grip on you. You might still enjoy them—you can splurge on the boots, crush your goals, or wear that killer dress—but now they’re extras, not your whole story.

That’s the shift: when the flex becomes a choice, not a crutch. And trust me, that freedom? It’s a whole different vibe—one that feels way better than any quick fix ever did.

Here’s the thing to always remember: it’s not really about the stuff—it never has been and never will be. It’s about what the stuff represents—success, status, belonging. As adults, we want to feel like we’re doing okay, like we measure up, like we’re part of the group. So, when someone else’s flex makes us feel like we’re falling behind, compensatory behavior kicks in to close the gap.

But the problem is, no number of shiny things or milestones will quiet that little nagging voice in your head. You could buy everything in the world, and that voice would still find a way to sneak in because compensatory behavior doesn’t address the root cause—it just slaps a designer label on top of it.

So, until you take a sledgehammer to the shaky foundation and start rebuilding from the ground up, you’re just decorating the problem, not solving it. Do the work to heal, and I promise you, your life will never be the same in the best way possible.



Sources

  1. https://www.psychology-lexicon.com/cms/glossary/36-glossary-c/22531-compensatory.html ↩︎