Happy New Year, readers. This is not a motivational, “you can do it” blog to commence the beginning of another calendar year. Nor is it a “New Year’s resolution”–centric think piece on how to plan and execute your goals. Because let’s be real, you don’t need that. We’re unpacking the decision to be indecisive.
If you’re reading this—or if you’ve read any of my previous blog posts—I can deduce that you’re a hardworking, ambitious, intelligent, and capable individual. And, if you’re still reading this, I’d bet that more often than not, you struggle with indecision. Not because you lack clarity, but because you care deeply about getting it “right.”
This, my friends, is a digital mirror reflecting back the root of indecision and how the inability to decide is holding you back. And truly, this is a reality check for me as much as it is for you.
Eliminate ‘Should’ From Your Vocabulary
I like to make lists. To-do lists, to be specific. I’m a firm believer that putting pen to paper makes tasks, actions, and goals more real and attainable. But then again, I am a writer.
Every evening, before I go to bed, I grab my planner and jot down a list of tasks I either need or want to complete. Anything from “shave my legs” to “contribute money to X investment account.” Because yes, sometimes I do have to remind myself to shave my legs.
Think of it as a productive brain dump; quickly writing down everything consuming me in the present moment allows my mind to quiet and gives the next day some sort of structure. But even in the midst of my daily to-dos I get lost in indecision. Well, should I do this first, or this other task? I think. Should I wait? What should I do?
The key word here is “should.” I know I’ve written about “should” before, either on here, or in my journal (both are practically the same, if I’m being honest). But I believe “should” is one of the greatest culprits behind indecision, because it disguises judgement as guidance.
Okay, that was dramatic. But it’s definitely a catalyst for shame and a fosterer of self-doubt.
Have you ever heard the phrase, “‘Should’ is ‘could’ with shame?” This one simple word in our everyday vocabulary is incredibly powerful.
“Should” is your inner critic. It whispers quiet mean-nothings in your ear, implies you’re not doing enough, and suggests you’re somehow falling short of an invisible expectation.
It feeds off the shame and guilt you feel. Worst of all? It relentlessly picks apart the person you should be, blocking your own radical self-acceptance and preventing you from diving into the gray area of nuance—where complexity lives, and where most honest lives are actually built.
The first step out of indecision is replacing “should” with “could.” Change “I should go to the gym” to “I could go to the gym.” That sounds like an option. Switch “I should save money” to “I could save money.” Oh, I like that. That one almost feels like there’s an “and” waiting on the other side. Because maybe there is!
“Could” cultivates possibility. It opens doors that “should” would have slammed shut. Can you make the active switch to use “could” more? You totally could.
Remembering Your Autonomy
Your life begins again the minute you remember you have full autonomy over your life. I know that’s easier read than done, but stay with me.
Last year, I fell into a vicious cycle of becoming embarrassingly dependent on outside sources to tell me who I was or was not. External validation was my drug. I relied on my daily horoscopes, or on if I thought God heard my prayer last night or not. And in my darkest days, I felt left behind by the Universe. Like damn–thou really hast forsaken me, huh?
When your mental and emotional state is codependent on external forces, that is a slippery slope my friend, one that makes it easy to fall down the rabbit hole of “should’s” even more toxic cousin, “should have.”
Then, one day I asked one of my best friends if I could get McDonald’s for dinner. Me, a 27-year-old adult (yes, my Saturn is returning; no I don’t want to talk about it), asked another adult permission to eat greasy fast food for dinner.
That’s when it hit me: where else am I asking for permission in my life? Do I look to the outside world for acceptance before turning inward? Survey says: yes, everywhere else.
If you resonate, you’re either blaming yourself for things you believed you should’ve done or asking others for permission for the things you could do. Toggling between those two mindsets is both exhausting and unfulfilling. Neither demonstrate self-authority or self-trust, and yet both keep you in indecision.
So in case no one has reminded you recently, you should know you can literally do whatever you want.
I don’t say that as a delusional, woo-woo, spiritual guide (but if the shoe fits?). I’m telling you logically, rationally, and truthfully. You can do what you want. Millions of people do it every day.
My golden-arches “aha” moment made me realize I was not exercising my free will enough, if at all, because I was locked behind the Should Penitentiary, serving a self-imposed sentence. Maybe you, too, feel chained to the expectations of “should” and the overwhelming opportunity of “could.”
When I tell you I felt reborn, I mean it! I could sleep in until 10 a.m. on Saturday mornings or change my furniture because of feng shui or dye my hair and cut it all off (been there, done that). But, I could. If I really wanted to, I could. And you can, too.
This isn’t a new thing, remembering I have free will, and I’m willing to bet you have these moments, too. They’re sporadic and euphoric in nature, a brief reprieve that awakens desire before responsibility rushes back in. Normally, after these revelatory free-will epiphanies, the comedown from the liberating high starts with an agonizing, “But what should I do?” And now that we’ve eliminated that dirty word from our vocabulary, I’ll ask you this instead:
What do you want to do?
You’re probably thinking, Celeste, it’s not that easy. There’s so much to consider. I hear you completely. When your brain is actively sifting through endless variables at once, it’s a challenge to know what to do next. It’s like running through quicksand: the harder you try, the more stuck you feel.
The worst part is, no one can help you because even YOU don’t know what you want to do. Cue Noah from The Notebook screaming at you, “What do you want?!” while you’re crying.
Forget what your parents want for you. Forget what your significant other thinks is best. Forget what society deems as “correct.” For a moment, close your eyes and think about what you genuinely want. If money weren’t an issue, if past traumas didn’t weigh you down, if the excuses you tell yourself didn’t muddle your clarity. What do you want?
Get even more granular and think about how you want to feel, because I’m willing to bet, it’s nothing like the unease that uncertainty and indecision provide.
Where did you arrive when you took a couple seconds to reconnect with your inner wants? How did you feel? What did you envision for yourself?
Hold on to that vision and listen to your inner voice. I’ll bet it’s whispering, “Your life is yours.” And it starts again when you remember that.
No One is Coming to Decide for You, They Arrive After
Can you see now how indecisiveness is a decision in its own right? The longer you decide to not listen to yourself, the longer you decide nothing truly authentic at all.
You’re stuck in a vicious cycle: “should” begets uncertainty and traps you in a state of agony. Agony in a garden, surrounded by sprouted seeds of self-doubt and self-pity (more on that next week).
I need you to know, I wrote this whole piece in one sitting. I believe the kids would say I reached a flow state and that I did. And it was during this same writing session that I coincidentally stumbled upon the Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath.
“I don’t know who I am, where I am going–and I am the one who has to decide the answers to these hideous questions,” she wrote.
I don’t have an older sister, but sometimes when I read works of art by the women before me, I imagine that is what it must feel like; to have had someone traverse the universe before you did, leaving breadcrumbs that remind you you’re not alone in the uncertainty.
Because she’s right: even when you feel the most indecisive and uncertain and lost, you still have to decide. No, you still get to decide. You get the opportunity to make a small change or a radical one. To connect so deeply to your inner voice–long suppressed by the weight of expectation–that you finally hear what you want.
The indecision you feel is not yours. It belongs to the performance of who you think you’re supposed to be. The beauty of your decision is that it is entirely yours, and the moment you decide is the moment you walk through the door that “could” opened. It’s the moment you reopen yourself to the world and choose bravery over perfection. Because the perfection decision doesn’t exist and it never will. It just has to be yours.
And no, no one is coming to decide for you. You must answer these hideous questions yourself. But the moment you do, something shifts. You stop asking for permission and start commanding your truth. Instead of questioning, Is this okay? you start saying, I want this.
It is scary and courageous and liberating and vulnerable. But I promise you, with every fiber of my being, that deciding from a place of truth gives life permission to meet you there. A greenlight to put things in motion. I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase, “Tell the Universe what you want like you’re putting it in an order.”
You’re at the celestial golden arches, post epiphany and pre creation, ordering a life on your terms, with a side of truth and a Diet Coke.
It’s a beautiful thing, acknowledging not only your purest desires, but also your inherent power, and deciding both are worth it. Deciding! Deciding to listen to yourself opens up a world of opportunity and brings others into your life to show you how it could be done.
Don’t discount yourself. Don’t “should” yourself into disbelief. Don’t silence your inner voice. And finally, don’t doubt that finally deciding will bring anything but what you want.
Because it totally could.
