For a long time, I was afraid of making choices. Specifically, choices about the future. So I let them sit, building a collection of unmade choices.
I wasn’t scared of immediate decisions. I found it easy to decide what I was going to eat for dinner on a menu, or even what classes I should take for next semester. But I struggled with long-range plans. What will I do next summer? What should I major in? What do I want to do when I grow up?
I took pride in the idea of being a generalist, but I didn’t want to close any doors on possible futures. Instead I tried to keep my options as open as possible.
- I decided on an American Studies major, so I could take courses across many departments. (American Studies ended up being a great choice, but not for that reason).
- I was a member of probably a dozen different clubs at various points in college, but few of them for more than a year or two.
- I had some close friends, but instead of having a tight-knit group, I floated among several different groups.
- I wasn’t sure what career path I wanted to lock in for the rest of my life, so I procrastinated on job searching for what I would do as my first, next thing.
The approach had its upsides–I always felt like I had options, and I did get to learn a lot! But when it came to building my life after college, my keep-doors-open-at-all-costs approach was more than a little paralyzing.
I slowly realized that, in my attempt to avoid closing any doors, I made it harder for myself to actually choose one to walk through.
I would sometimes wind up with the default next step, waiting for a mentor or the fates to hand me my choice. Or choose among the leftovers at the end of the party.
Eventually, I came to learn three things about doors and choices:
Walking through a door is a great way to make forward progress and gain a new perspective.
Choosing a door to walk through doesn’t mean that all other doors are forever closed.
But, standing around in a room full of open doors is a great way to go nowhere.
