Decisions

At times when I hear this word, many things come to mind. One is pressure—or even fear. Why? Because decisions (depending the weight) often come with the feeling of being rushed, paired with anxiety about the outcome or the repercussions once the choice is made. This doesn’t happen all the time, and not every decision is huge. There are plenty of decisions I make instantly that are benign or easy—no sweat. Others are heavier, and when they knock on my door, I feel it.

I’ll be honest: when I moved to Oregon in 2011, I said yes to almost everything without fear—and the outcomes were very positive. That included moving in with a roommate (even though I loved my own space), trying sushi for the first time, going on intimidating hikes I wasn’t experienced enough for, and getting into a car with people I barely knew just to go on wild rides full of wheelies, doughnuts, and burnouts (that was fun). I spoke in front of a congregation at church as a translator, signed up to be an assistant coach for a U12 girls’ soccer team, went skydiving, spoke to an elementary school class, worked at a winery knowing nothing about wine, ran a relay across the county, and so much more.

Over time, that yes slowly shifted toward the opposite direction. I’m not sure if the adventure flame dimmed, if it was age, or something else entirely. Perhaps I simply became comfortable in my space. What I do know is that I don’t like feeling stuck—being in a stage of life where moving forward feels scary.

When that happens, I start changing small things about myself. For example, if I avoided going somewhere because it felt like a chore—without realizing it might actually help pull me out of my funk—I’d feel the consequences later. So instead, I’d go to places I hadn’t been before, drive through the countryside, and walk into shops that caught my eye. Regardless of how I felt, I’d park the car and go inside just to see what might come of it.

Sometimes it was worthwhile—meeting locals and learning the stories behind their shops or restaurants. Other times, it was boring or uneventful. Sometimes I felt out of place, like the only young person there, unsure of what I was even doing. But the point is this: you must keep moving. Even if it’s slow, progress matters.

Progress can look scary, rewarding, memorable, enticing, unimaginable, regrettable, emotional—sometimes all at once. But it’s how we grow and learn about ourselves. Decisions are the catalyst that get that process moving.

Feeling stuck? Try making some decisions.

Start small if you must—small decisions build momentum. The mindset of “I must make the right decision” can derail you completely. Shaping your world comes from making choices. If you’re wrong, you’ll find out sooner and can adjust. If you don’t like your career, change it. If you don’t like your body, change it. If you don’t like your friends, change them. For things to get better, we have to get better. And it all begins with a decision.

Another thing I’ve learned: it’s only a decision if you act on it. Do something within minutes to follow through. Many people make decisions, but don’t act on them. Why? Because of how it feels afterward, lack of planning, or faulty intuition creeping in.

I used to believe that once a decision was made, that was it—a one-step process. But it’s more than that. There’s also ‘commitment’ and ‘resolve’.

Deciding is choosing the road or path. Commitment is staying on that path for the long haul—it extends the decision into the future. That’s why it’s critical to act quickly after deciding; otherwise, doubt sneaks in and follow-through fades. (You can see why women often commit more easily than men 🤔.)

Then there’s resolve—the rewarding part. It’s the peace you feel after making a purchase, choosing a field of study, or deciding where to eat. Deciding can feel like a battle. Commitment takes energy. Resolve is simply being done—no anxiety, no stress.

The mistake many of us make is believing that one decision will resolve everything. Leave the job, leave the relationship, start a new career—and suddenly life should be perfect. But that’s not reality. Decision-making is a continual process.

There’s also something called weak decision-making. Let me give you an example.

When I was in community college in California, my goal was to become a photographer. I remember struggling endlessly over what camera to buy—Canon or Nikon? I fell deep into the rabbit hole. I researched specs, compared lenses, read reviews, and analyzed everything. Both brands were excellent, but I was obsessed with getting the absolute best bang for my buck.

That semester, I had two photography teachers: a Nikon dude and a Canon dude. Perfect, right? Free expert advice! I talked to them constantly after class. And by “constantly,” I mean so much that I’m pretty sure they started seeing me in their nightmares. I can hear their internal monologue now: “Oh great, here comes Jorge again.” (eyes rolling and all).

I asked the same questions over and over, hoping for some magical answer that would eliminate all risk and guarantee my future success as a photographer. Finally, one of them said, “Jorge, you just need to make a decision. Pick a camera, and everything will pan out.”

So I finally did.

Here’s the point: during all that hesitation and over-researching, I wasn’t moving forward at all. All I gained was stress and mental turmoil. And if things hadn’t worked out? I could’ve pivoted—sold it and bought another camera. Again, the point is to keep moving.

Weak decision-making shows up in other ways too: struggling to decide where to eat, what show to watch (especially with all these platforms), and countless small choices that drain energy.

Some people want to know everything before making a decision. But if you wait until you know everything, the opportunity is already gone. We crave certainty in life—but certainty doesn’t exist.

“Stress is usually measured by how much you feel you can control events versus events controlling you. The more you feel events are controlling you, the more overwhelmed you become—the more stress, anxiety, and fear you feel.”

Another example—something I’ve written about before—is when decisions simply didn’t go my way. I made several attempts to get things accomplished, but every choice that day seemed to fail. Still, if I had stayed stuck trying to figure out the perfect next move, the perfect timing, the perfect route instead of taking action, I would’ve been even more miserable.

Yes, it was frustrating not getting what I wanted—but it helped me grow.

What’s that saying? Better to have loved and lost than to never love at all… 100% agree. Not making a decision almost always leads to regret. A major red flag is living on the fence.

The road to certainty is paved with decisions—made, acted upon, and learned from.

In the end, progress doesn’t come from perfect information—it comes from motion. Decisions don’t need to be flawless; they need to be established. Every choice teaches you something, even the wrong ones. Staying still, waiting for certainty, costs far more than moving forward and adjusting along the way.