Different career streams to choose from.
Two job offers to pick from.
Deciding whom to build a relationship with.
There are numerous such instances where we face two not so obvious choices to make. And we often find ourselves saying, “I don’t know what to do.”
Do we really not know?
I think mostly we all know what to do. But we crave to know if it’s the right decision. We spend an inordinate time analysing, researching, planning, debating, thinking – in the hope to get to the right decision.
But we won’t ever know if it’s the right decision, until we make the decision.
And this thought paralyses us.
When we say “I don’t know what to do,” what we usually imply is, “I don’t know if the decision I make will work out or not”.
We don’t fear making the decision.
We fear an undesirable outcome.
(P.S. — I had this complex observation in my head but couldn’t put it into words clearly, and perfectly, so I took some AI help this time. The thinking is mine, the articulation — borrowed. Just being honest before you read further! ?)
This one hit close.
But I think there’s something deeper here than just fearing the outcome — sometimes we don’t decide because we don’t want to own the consequences. So we don’t say yes, we don’t say no. We just wait. “I’ll see.” “Not now.” “Maybe later.”
And time decides for us.
Think about someone who knows deep down their relationship isn’t working. They’ve known for a while. But they never end it — not because they still believe in it, but because if it falls apart after they walked away, they don’t want to own the consequences. So they stay quiet. They grow distant. They wait — for the other person to get tired, for things to fall apart on their own. And eventually they do. They didn’t leave. It just ended.
But then the consequences hit — the loneliness, the guilt, the what ifs. And even now, they don’t own it. They say “they were the one who gave up, they were the one who walked away.” The other person becomes the reason. The other person takes the blame. Hands clean.
Or take someone who wants to quit their job and build something of their own. Deep down, they know. But they never resign — not because they aren’t ready, but because if things turn out wrong, they don’t want to be the one who chose it. So they wait. For things to get worse, for the boss to push them out, for life to force the move. And when it finally happens, they didn’t quit. They were pushed. And when the consequences hit — the uncertainty, the struggle, the sleepless nights — they don’t own that either. They blame the timing. The economy. The circumstances. Anything but themselves.
It’s a very human thing to do, honestly. Owning a decision means owning everything that follows it — the good and the bad. And that’s a heavy thing to carry. So instead, we let life or time decide, and when it does, we call it fate. It’s easier that way.
The uncomfortable truth? Waiting is a decision. Letting time choose is still choosing. It just feels like it happened to you — so the consequences feel like they belong to the situation, not to you.
A lot of people live entire chapters of their life this way. Careers. Relationships. Big moves. Never really choosing, just drifting — and then looking back saying “well, this is just how it turned out.”
We don’t just fear the wrong outcome. We fear owning the consequences of our own choice.
Question 6:
Have you ever caught yourself doing this — not deciding, just waiting — and only later realized you actually knew what you wanted all along?
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9 days of showing up for your words — All 6 questions still in your inbox, patiently waiting.