Why is it so hard to make decisions as we get older?
Is it because we are fearful of repeating mistakes from our youth or have we grown so wise to know that even small decisions can propel us onto a vastly different path?
I used to say I have grown to be a better decision maker because of age and wisdom. It has given me the luxury to better weigh the pros and cons of any situation. That old tried and true method of making a list? It still has its merits.
But lately, I’ve grown wistful of being that carefree young girl that acts first and hopes for the best. Where is that girl that jumps in head first? Why am I so afraid to walk to the edge and look down?
Truth be told, I have a right to be scared. My track record lately… Dubious.
I have no right to expect… anything close to perfection. In fact, I’ve gotten a heavy dose of imperfection in recent years. I’ve learned to live with that. Yet I still made decisions with a belief that they were for the best.
Even when I learned, in hindsight, they were not.
Bad decisions? They sting a little more because we realize they were bad after much reflection. Which sort of makes it all the worse, because it feels a ton heavier when you micro-manage the hell out of a situation and still realize the buck ultimately stops with you. Forever. It is a bitter pill to swallow.
Each time we allow the doubt to creep in, a little confidence is chipped away. And if there isn’t enough good stuff in the meantime to fill the gaps? Well, decisions move from a simple yes/no to an albatross on your back.
I am stuck under an albatross.
And because of my inability to make a decision, multiple decisions really- I am struggling under a weight just too big to budge.