I used to say, “I’m not a jogger.”
I would tell people I’d always hated running. I always got a stitch after just a few minutes, and I’d never be able to catch my breath to sustain a good run.
Then one day, a friend asked if I’d ever worked with a jogging coach. She suggested one, and to my surprise, that coach helped me realize that I was getting stitches because I was dehydrated, and there were breathing techniques that could improve my stamina.
Now, I’m a frequent jogger, and looking back, I can see that for years, I was a victim of overgeneralization. Because of a few bad (and untrained) experiences running, I made a big generalization: “I’m not a jogger.” That held me back from discovering a form of exercise that I now can’t live without.
Overgeneralization is just one of the many thinking traps I’ve written about. It’s a close cousin to catastrophization and a number of other cognitive distortions.
Check out the other articles in this series:
- Full article on thinking traps and cognitive distortions
- All or nothing thinking — also known as black and white thinking
- Catastrophizing — assuming the worst of a situation
- Imposter syndrome — feeling you aren’t good enough at what you do
- Should statements — feeling guilt for things you “should” or “shouldn’t” do
- Personalization — taking responsibility for things that aren’t your fault
What is overgeneralization?
Overgeneralization is a cognitive distortion where you take one or two experiences and apply them broadly across all similar situations in the future.
It’s your brain’s pattern recognition system working overtime. Our minds are wired to learn from experience and predict what might happen next. That’s useful when it helps us avoid actual danger, but it becomes a problem when we let a couple of data points define our entire reality.
The overgeneralization definition in psychology is pretty straightforward: it’s when you conclude that what happened once or twice will always happen, or that one trait you’ve observed in yourself or others is permanent and unchanging.
Types and examples of overgeneralization
Overgeneralization is easier to understand when you see it in action. Let’s look at the different ways this thinking trap shows up in everyday life, particularly at work and school.
When you underestimate your abilities
This is probably the most common form of overgeneralization, and it’s the one that can do the most damage to your career and personal growth.
You try something once or twice, it doesn’t go well, and suddenly you’ve written yourself off completely. “I’m bad at public speaking.” “I can’t handle conflict.” “I’m not good with numbers.” And famously: “I’m not a jogger.”
These statements feel like facts, but they’re really just overgeneralizations based on limited experience.
The problem is that early in your career, you’re supposed to be bad at things. You’re learning, but overgeneralization, teaming up with imposter syndrome, convinces you that your current skill level is permanent, so you stop trying to improve or avoid opportunities that could help you grow.
Example: You work for a marketing agency and bomb your first sales call with a potential client. You stumble over your words, forget key points about your services, and the client seems uninterested. After the call, you think: “I’m terrible at sales. I should just stick to the creative side.” You start avoiding client calls, volunteer for design work instead, and never develop the sales mindset that could advance your career. Three years later, you’re frustrated watching colleagues who “aren’t even that creative” get promoted because they can bring in clients.
The truth is, that first sales call was just one data point. Maybe you were nervous. Maybe you hadn’t prepared enough. Maybe that particular client wasn’t a good fit anyway. But instead of treating it as a learning experience, you let it define your entire identity around sales. That’s overgeneralization.
Overgeneralizing about others
This form of overgeneralization is a lot like the inverse of personalization. It happens when you make broad judgments about people based on limited interactions. One bad meeting, one awkward conversation, one moment of tension, and suddenly you’ve decided exactly who that person is.
The workplace is full of opportunities for this trap. A coworker seems dismissive in a hallway conversation, so you decide they’re arrogant. Your manager looks distracted during your first one-on-one, so you assume they don’t care about your development. A teammate misses a deadline, so you label them unreliable.
Related: How to read between the lines at work
These snap judgments feel protective. If you can categorize people quickly, you think you know how to interact with them. But you’re basing major decisions about relationships and collaboration on incomplete information.
The damage here is twofold. First, you might avoid working with people who could actually be great collaborators or mentors. Second, people can sense when you’ve written them off, which creates the exact dynamic you were trying to avoid.
Example: Your new manager seems distracted during your first one-on-one meeting. They check their phone twice, cut the meeting short by five minutes, and don’t ask many questions about your work. You think: “They don’t care about their team. This is going to be just like my last terrible manager.” You start keeping them at arm’s length, only sharing the bare minimum in meetings, and never asking for feedback or mentorship. Six months later, you’re frustrated with your lack of growth, while your coworkers who built relationships with the manager are getting better projects and career guidance.
Maybe that manager was dealing with a family emergency during your first meeting. Maybe they were new to the role and nervous. Maybe they just had an off day. But you overgeneralized and took one interaction and built an entire narrative about who they are and how they’ll treat you.
Overgeneralizing situations and contexts
This type of overgeneralization happens when you take one situation and assume all similar situations will play out the same way. It’s less about judging yourself or others, and more about deciding that certain types of experiences are doomed from the start.
“All team projects are disasters.”
“Networking events are always awkward.”
“Office politics are toxic everywhere.”
These blanket statements close off entire categories of opportunities before you’ve given them a real chance.
This thinking trap is particularly limiting because it prevents you from learning what actually makes situations succeed or fail. Maybe that disastrous group project failed because of poor communication, not because group work itself is fundamentally broken. Maybe that awkward networking event was poorly organized, not because all networking is inherently uncomfortable.
When you overgeneralize about situations, you stop looking for patterns that could actually help you. You miss the chance to identify what went wrong and do it differently next time.
Example: Your first group project in college was a mess. Two teammates didn’t pull their weight, someone plagiarized part of the presentation, and you all barely scraped a passing grade. You think: “Group projects are always like this. People are unreliable.” Now you’re in your first job, and your manager assigns you to a cross-functional team. Before the first meeting even happens, you’re already mentally checked out. You don’t contribute ideas, you keep your head down, and you do the bare minimum. The project goes fine without your input, but your manager notes in your review that you “don’t seem engaged in collaborative work.”
That one bad college experience became your template for all group work. But maybe your college teammates were inexperienced freshmen. Maybe the project lacked clear roles and deadlines. Maybe the professor didn’t set the team up for success. None of those factors apply to your current workplace, but you’re operating as if they do.
When you overestimate your abilities
The flip side of overgeneralization is just as dangerous. This is when early success convinces you that you’ve mastered something, when really you just got lucky or had ideal conditions.
You ace something once or twice and decide you’ve got it figured out. You stop seeking feedback, stop studying, stop preparing as thoroughly. This version of overgeneralization breeds overconfidence, and it can damage your reputation fast.
This is particularly common when you’re new to a job or role. You have a few early wins and assume that’s just how it’s going to be from now on. But those wins might have come from beginner’s luck, unusually easy tasks, or extra support you didn’t even realize you were getting.
Example: You land your first major client pitch at an advertising firm. The client loves your ideas, signs immediately, and your boss praises your presentation skills. You think: “I’m a natural at this.” For your next pitch, you spend half the time preparing, wing parts of the presentation, and don’t bother researching the client’s competitors as thoroughly. The pitch flops. The client goes with another agency, and your boss pulls you aside to ask what happened. You’re blindsided because you thought you had this skill locked down.
That first successful pitch might have succeeded for reasons beyond your control. Maybe that client was predisposed to like your agency. Maybe your ideas happened to align perfectly with what they already wanted. Maybe your boss helped you prepare more than you realized.
One win doesn’t mean you’ve mastered the skill. Overgeneralizing from early success can make you complacent exactly when you should be building on your foundation.
Recognizing and reframing overgeneralization
The main thinking traps article walks through the full “pause and reframe” method for dealing with cognitive distortions. That process works for overgeneralization too, but there are some specific signals to watch for with this particular trap.
The easiest way to catch yourself overgeneralizing is to listen for absolute language. Pay attention to your thoughts (this is why we journal!) and look for these words:
- Always/Never/Every time
- Everyone/no one
- All/Every/Completely/Totally
When you hear yourself using these words, pause and ask: “Is this actually true, or am I overgeneralizing?”
If you think you’re overgeneralizing, the next step is learning to reframe your thoughts, until they become less common. This takes time, but here are a few examples on how you might reframe some common overgeneralizations:
- “I always mess up presentations” → “I struggled with that presentation, but I’ve also had successful ones”
- “No one at this company cares about work-life balance” → “My manager seems to prioritize long hours, but I don’t know everyone’s situation”
- “I’m bad at technical skills” → “I haven’t learned this particular skill yet”
- “All networking events are awkward” → “That networking event was uncomfortable, but different formats might work better for me”
The key is moving from permanent, sweeping statements to specific, situational observations.
When you catch yourself overgeneralizing, ask these questions:
What evidence do I actually have? One bad sales call? Two awkward conversations? That’s not enough data to draw a conclusion.
What other explanations exist? Maybe you were unprepared, tired, or dealing with unusual circumstances. Maybe the other person was having a bad day. List these out, and you’ll find it easier to balance your observation.
Am I confusing “I haven’t learned this yet” with “I can’t do this”? Skills develop over time. Your current ability isn’t your permanent ability.
Back to my jogging example: I caught myself saying “I’m not a runner” and realized I was basing that on maybe five attempts, all of which happened when I was dehydrated and didn’t know proper breathing techniques. Once I reframed it as “I haven’t learned to run well yet,” I could actually address the problem.
The goal isn’t to swing to the opposite extreme and assume everything will work out perfectly. It’s to treat your experiences as data points, not destiny.
Overgeneralization turns single experiences into life sentences. But the stories you tell yourself simply aren’t true—they’re just your brain taking shortcuts with incomplete data. Over time, you’ll get better at catching yourself using words like always or never. You’ll start to see the difference between “this didn’t work out” and “this never works out.”
Your past attempts don’t define your future capabilities, and the more you practice recognizing overgeneralizations, the more opportunities you’ll discover that you’d previously written off.
