One thing that often comes up in therapy is mind-reading—the impulse to guess what others are thinking or feeling. This tendency has deep evolutionary roots. In early human history, survival depended on accurately reading social cues in our tribes and families. Being able to interpret another’s internal states helped to assess trust, detect threat, and strengthen bonds. This capacity is called theory of mind—the ability to attribute mental states (beliefs, desires, intentions) to others—and it begins to emerge in early childhood.

Anticipating others’ behavior leads to survival advantage, particularly in social and caregiving contexts where attuned caregivers must interpret a child’s nonverbal cues to meet needs and promote secure attachment. In this sense, mind-reading supports empathy and closeness. But in those with attachment wounds, trauma histories, or highly sensitive nervous systems, this adaptive mind-reading turns into hypervigilance where others’ behavior is filtered through the lens of past hurt and often misread as a reflection of our worth or safety.

Habitual mind-reading often originates in early experiences of emotional unpredictability, misattunement, or conditional love—conditions that shape insecure attachment styles lasting into adulthood. This tendency is an extension of the adaptive selves children developed as a brilliant survival strategy to stay safe and connected in relationally unstable environments.

An emotionally volatile or inconsistent caregiver may shift quickly from warmth to coldness. In response, the child becomes hypervigilant, scanning for emotional cues to maintain safety. Their sense of self orients around the question: Who do I need to be to keep you regulated? while their authentic self is often suppressed or overshadowed. This forms the basis of anxious-preoccupied attachment. As adults, they may fear abandonment, over-function emotionally, and remain overly-attuned to others’ moods in order to secure connection.

When a caregiver is narcissistically wounded or self-absorbed, the child isn’t mirrored for their own internal experience, but instead must reflect the caregiver’s needs. Love is earned through performance, pleasing, or emotional attunement. The child internalizes: I only get love when I’m useful to you. This also leads to anxious-preoccupied attachment, with a relationally adapted self organized around meeting others’ needs. In adulthood, this often appears as perfectionism, people-pleasing, and difficulty with vulnerability or asking for support.

A child with an emotionally distant or rejecting caregiver learns that expressing needs results in disconnection, dismissal, or withdrawal. To preserve connection, they suppress vulnerability and rely on self-sufficiency. But no one can only need themselves, so the self that forms is built around controlled independence, appearing capable and detached on the outside, while emotional needs remain unmet, unacknowledged, or even shameful. The internal belief becomes: It’s safer not to need anyone. This forms the root of dismissive-avoidant attachment. As adults, they may prize independence and competence, but struggle with intimacy and tend to withdraw under stress.

When a parent is emotionally absent or consumed by their own pain (trauma, addiction, or mental illness), the child becomes an emotional detective: What’s wrong? Is it me? Can I bring you back? Magical thinking may arise: If I’m good enough, maybe you’ll come alive. This experience can blend anxious and avoidant strategies and often leads to a caretaking or over-functioning self that masks deep loneliness. As adults, these individuals may become highly responsible for others’ emotions while neglecting their own needs. They may oscillate between closeness and emotional distance.

In enmeshed family systems, a child may be treated like a peer, therapist, or emotional extension of the caregiver. The child internalizes: Your feelings are mine. If you’re not okay, I can’t be okay either. This dynamic can lead to anxious or disorganized (fearful-avoidant) attachment, especially when there’s also neglect or chaos. The self that develops is often a survival-oriented or fused self, shaped by the need to maintain connection at all costs. In adulthood, these individuals may lose themselves in relationships, struggle to hold boundaries, and fear both rejection and engulfment when attempting to assert their own needs.

Once these attachment patterns form, we often develop protector parts that take on the role of reading others obsessively to avoid pain. These parts may hold rigid beliefs like I need to know what others think of me or I’ll be blindsided and that will be really bad.

At times, though, mind-reading can be more about projection—we may unconsciously assign our own disowned feelings (shame, judgment, self-doubt, etc.) to others. They must think I’m incompetent might actually be the voice of a critical part, not what someone else is thinking about us. In this way, the psyche reveals hidden material by projecting it outward.

The brain is not only hardwired to mind-read but also to fill in gaps, especially in emotionally ambiguous situations. If someone pulls away, doesn’t respond or acts differently, we instinctively seek meaning. For some, ambiguity feels like danger. Even those with secure attachment may struggle with not knowing. Uncertainty triggers a loss of control which the nervous system experiences as risk.