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Why Is Making a Decision So Difficult, Even When You Know What You Want?

stevenwebsterthera
Oct 28
13 min read

At times, you have a sense of what you want to do in life. You might know that a relationship needs to change, that you want to leave a job, that you are ready to move somewhere new, or that the life you are living no longer quite fits, and yet, you cannot seem to make the decision.

You go over the possibilities in your mind, you imagine how things might turn out, you consider what other people will think, what you might lose, and whether you could end up regretting your choice. It could be that you have a clear idea or decision in your head one day, only to find yourself doubting everything the next. The more you think about it, the harder the decision seems to become. If this sounds familiar, it does not necessarily mean that you are incapable of making a decision, but that the difficulty lies in facing what choosing might mean in terms of consequences rather than the decision itself.



Why can making a decision feel so difficult?

We tend to approach decisions as though there must be a right answer waiting to be discovered. If we think carefully enough, gather enough information, collect enough views and advice from others or consider every possible outcome, we hope to reach a point where the choice becomes obvious. This can be possible, since certain decisions benefit from research, careful thought and practical planning, but many of the decisions that matter most to us are different. They involve relationships, identity, work, family, where we live, or the direction we want our lives to take. These choices simply don’t come with guarantees.


You might be able to identify what you want whilst still feeling frightened about the consequences. You might recognise that something needs to change, meanwhile feeling uncertain about what will happen afterwards. This can create a frustrating tension: one part of you wants to move forwards, whereas another wants to wait until you feel completely sure. You might be waiting for the anxiety to disappear, for someone else to confirm that you are making the right choice, or for the future to become clearer. The difficulty is that certainty may never arrive in the form you are hoping for. The question is not, “What do I want?” but, “Can I live with the uncertainty that comes with choosing it?”


The fear of making the wrong choice

One reason decisions can become paralysing is the fear of regret. When we choose one possibility, we inevitably leave other possibilities unexplored. If you leave your job, you may wonder whether you could have made it work. If you end a relationship, you may question whether you gave it enough time. If you move to another country, you may miss the life you left behind. Even when a decision feels right, there can be moments when you wonder about the alternative. Making that particular decision may simply mean that the choice mattered, and that something has been given up along the way.


We can sometimes become so focused on avoiding regret that we try to find a decision that will never leave us questioning ourselves. We want to know that we will not look back and wish we had done something differently, but no decision can offer that guarantee. You can make a thoughtful choice based on what you know, what matters to you and what you need at the time, and still discover things you could not have anticipated. You may change, your circumstances may change, or the outcome may be different from what you imagined. The possibility of regret is part of making meaningful choices. 


A question worth considering: Am I trying to make the best decision I can, or am I trying to make a decision that will protect me from ever feeling regret?


When keeping every option open starts to cost you

Sometimes, not deciding can feel safer than choosing. As long as you have not committed to one direction, the alternatives remain available. You can continue imagining different futures without having to discover what any of them would actually involve. There is a particular kind of comfort in this, since nothing has been ruled out, and you do not yet have to face the consequences of a choice. But keeping your options open can also become exhausting and leads to indecision fatigue.


You might spend months thinking about leaving a job without applying for another one. You might repeatedly consider whether to stay in a relationship without having an honest conversation about what needs to change. You might imagine a different life whilst feeling increasingly distant from the one you are actually living. Over time, the effort involved in not deciding can become its own burden.


Your attention remains caught between different possibilities. You may struggle to invest fully in your current circumstances because you are always wondering whether you should be somewhere else, and the decision you hoped would become easier with time may begin to occupy even more of your thoughts. It is worth asking whether keeping your options open is helping you explore your possibilities, or whether it has become a way of avoiding the vulnerability involved in choosing.

There is nothing wrong with taking your time, because some decisions genuinely need space, but waiting and avoiding can look remarkably similar from the outside. The difference may lie in whether the time you are taking helps you understand something new, or whether you find yourself returning to the same questions without getting any closer to understanding what matters to you.


The expectations of other people

Decisions can become particularly difficult when what we want seems to conflict with what other people expect of us. Perhaps your family has a particular idea of what a successful life should look like, or maybe you feel pressure to stay in a secure job, settle down, have children, remain in a relationship, or follow a path that makes sense to the people around you. You might genuinely value some of these things yourself. The difficulty is working out where your own wishes end and other people's expectations begin.


More often than not, we follow a familiar path because it feels right. We follow it because questioning it might disappoint someone, challenge our sense of belonging, or make us feel as though we are letting people down. This can be especially complicated when the expectations are not explicitly stated. Nobody may have told you that you must live a particular way. You may simply have absorbed an understanding of what a good life looks like, and found it difficult to imagine stepping outside it.


You might know what you want, but struggle to give yourself permission to want it, or you might be uncertain whether a desire is genuinely yours, or something you have learned to value because of the people and circumstances that have shaped you. Neither question has to be answered immediately, it can be helpful to approach them with curiosity rather than judging yourself for having conflicting feelings.

Consider asking yourself:

  • Whose expectations am I trying to meet?

  • If nobody else had an opinion about this decision, what might I want?

  • What am I afraid might happen to my relationships if I choose differently?

  • Am I choosing this because it feels meaningful to me, or because it helps me feel accepted?


These questions are not an invitation to disregard the people you care about, our relationships and responsibilities matter. Rather, they can help you understand whether you are making room for your own needs alongside the needs and expectations of others.


What if the decision changes how you see yourself?

Some decisions are difficult because they seem to ask something of us beyond a practical change as they challenge the person we believe ourselves to be. Leaving a long-term career might mean questioning an identity you have built over many years. Ending a relationship might mean facing the possibility that the future you imagined will not happen. Moving away might mean discovering that the life you thought you wanted no longer feels right. These decisions can bring a sense of loss, even when part of you wants the change. You may find yourself thinking, “What does it say about me if I give this up?” or, “What if I discover that I have been wrong about what I wanted?”

You may have spent years working towards something, and changing direction feels like admitting that the effort was wasted, or perhaps you have always thought of yourself as dependable, successful or adventurous, and your current feelings do not fit that picture. It can be difficult to let go of a future that has become part of your identity. But changing direction doesn’t invalidate the person you have been, something can have mattered to you in the past without needing to define your future. A relationship can have been meaningful even if it ends and a career can have given you valuable experiences even if you no longer want to continue in it.


We are not always the same person who made our earlier choices. Our circumstances, priorities and understanding of ourselves can change. Ultimately, the decision in front of us is partly about allowing that change to be real.


What am I afraid this choice will mean about me?

It may be worth sitting with this question for a while. The answer might reveal that the decision is carrying more weight than its practical consequences alone.


An existential perspective: freedom, responsibility and uncertainty

In existential thinking, choice is closely connected to the experience of being human. We find ourselves living in circumstances we have not entirely chosen, whilst also having to make decisions about how we respond to them. We have some freedom, but that freedom exists alongside real limitations. We cannot control everything that happens to us, know every possible outcome, or live every possible version of our lives and it is this tension that can be uncomfortable.


Choosing one direction means accepting that other directions may remain unexplored. Taking responsibility for a decision means recognising that, even when we seek advice and consider our options carefully, nobody else can entirely remove the uncertainty for us. This does not mean that we are responsible for everything that happens in our lives. Many things are outside our control, and our choices are shaped by circumstances, relationships, resources and opportunities. It does mean that, where we do have some room to choose, we may have to find a way of living with the uncertainty that remains.


We might hope for a decision that makes us feel completely safe, but meaningful choices do not always offer that kind of reassurance. Sometimes, moving towards something that matters also means moving towards the possibility of disappointment, loss or change. There is a difference between making a decision carelessly and making one without certainty. We can reflect, seek advice, consider the consequences and take our responsibilities seriously without knowing exactly how things will turn out.


An existential perspective does not provide a formula for choosing correctly. Instead, it can help us explore what our choices mean to us, what we are trying to protect, and what kind of life we want to participate in creating. The aim is not to eliminate uncertainty, it is to understand our relationship with it.


How can you move forwards when you are still uncertain?

If you are struggling with a decision, being told to trust your instincts or make a pros-and-cons list may not get you very far. You may already have thought about the options many times. Rather than trying to force yourself into a decision, it can help to explore what is making the choice difficult. Here are a few questions you might spend some time with.


1. What do I already know?

Try separating what you know from what you fear might happen. You might know that you are unhappy in your current situation, even if you do not know what would make you happier. You might know that a relationship needs to change, even if you are unsure whether it can. You might know that you want something different, even if you cannot yet picture what that looks like. You do not have to know everything before acknowledging what you already know.


2. What am I hoping certainty will give me?

Are you waiting to feel confident? Are you hoping somebody else will tell you what to do? Are you looking for a guarantee that you will not hurt anyone, make a mistake or regret your decision?

Understanding what you are waiting for can help you see whether it is something you can realistically obtain. Sometimes, more information really is needed, whereas at other times, the information is already there, and what remains is the uncertainty that no amount of thinking can completely resolve.


3. Whose expectations am I trying to meet?

Think about the people whose opinions matter to you, and the standards you feel you should live up to. What would choosing differently mean? Would you be afraid of disappointing someone, losing their approval, or being seen in a different way? You do not have to dismiss these concerns. Instead, you can recognise that other people matter to you whilst also asking what matters to you.


4. What am I afraid this choice will mean about me?

Would leaving mean that you had failed? Would staying mean that you lacked courage? Would changing your mind mean that you were unreliable?

Sometimes, we become stuck because we attach a judgement about ourselves to each possible outcome. Exploring these judgements can help you distinguish between the practical decision and the story you are telling yourself about what it would say about you.


5. What uncertainty would I need to accept to move forward?

This may be the most difficult question of all. You might need to accept that you cannot know whether a new job will make you happier, whether another person will understand your decision, or whether a different life will turn out as you hope.


You may also need to accept that staying where you are involves uncertainty of its own. Not choosing is not always a neutral option; circumstances continue to change, even when we do not actively make a decision. You do not have to feel comfortable with every possibility. It may be enough to recognise which uncertainties you can live with, which risks need careful consideration, and which questions cannot be answered in advance.


6. Is there a smaller step I can take?

Not every decision needs to be resolved in one fell swoop moment. You might have a conversation, explore an alternative, gather some specific information, speak to someone you trust, or try a small change that helps you understand what you need. A smaller step may not remove the uncertainty, but it can give you more experience to reflect on than repeatedly imagining every possible outcome.


Of course, some decisions have significant practical, financial, legal or safety implications. In those situations, it is important to take the time and seek appropriate advice before acting. Moving forward does not have to mean rushing. The aim is not to force a decision before you are ready. It is to notice whether there is something useful you can do, rather than remaining caught in the same cycle of thought.


What if I make the wrong decision?

There is no simple answer to this question, because sometimes we do make choices we later wish we had made differently. We may act on incomplete information, misunderstand what we need, or discover that a situation is different from what we expected. Sometimes, we look back and recognise something we could not see at the time. But it may help to consider a different question: can you make a thoughtful decision with the understanding and resources you have now, whilst accepting that your perspective may change?


You do not need to pretend that every decision will work out well. Nor do you need to assume that a difficult outcome would mean you were foolish to choose it. You can take a decision seriously without expecting yourself to predict the future, and if you later discover that something needs to change, you may have choices available to you that you cannot fully see now.

Life does not always unfold as a series of final, irreversible answers. Some decisions can be revisited, adapted or learned from. Others involve losses that cannot simply be undone. Part of the work is understanding which kind of decision you are facing, rather than treating every choice as though it carries the same consequences. Perhaps the question is not, “How can I guarantee that I will never regret this?” but, “How can I make this decision in a way that reflects what matters to me, whilst taking its consequences seriously?”


When it helps to talk things through

Sometimes, we need space to think without being pushed towards a particular answer. Talking to a trusted person can help, especially if they are willing to listen without immediately offering advice. At other times, speaking to someone who is less involved in the situation can make it easier to explore feelings and possibilities that are difficult to acknowledge elsewhere.

In individual therapy, there is room to explore what is happening beneath the decision itself. You might look at the expectations you carry, the fears that arise when you imagine change, the experiences that have shaped your sense of identity, or the values you want to live by. The purpose is not for a therapist to decide what you should do, nor is it to encourage change for its own sake.


It is an opportunity to understand yourself and your situation more fully, so that whatever you decide is less dominated by fear, pressure or the need to find a perfect answer. You may discover that you already have a sense of what you want but have struggled to acknowledge it. You may realise that your uncertainty reflects genuinely conflicting needs, or that you need more time and practical information before choosing. There is no single outcome that therapy should lead you towards. The aim is to make room for an honest exploration of what matters to you and what feels possible.


You do not have to know the whole future

Making a decision can feel difficult because it asks us to let go of the hope that we can think our way into complete certainty. We can reflect carefully, seek support and consider the consequences. We can try to understand our values and listen to what our feelings might be telling us. But we cannot know in advance exactly how every choice will unfold.


Sometimes, what keeps us stuck is not a lack of options, but the wish to find a choice that involves no loss, no risk and no possibility of regret. Perhaps moving forward begins when we recognise that this may not be possible. You do not have to know exactly where a decision will take you. You do not have to silence every doubt or feel completely confident. You can take your uncertainty seriously without allowing it to make every decision for you, and you can begin by asking yourself, not what the perfect choice would be, but what you need to understand in order to make a choice that feels more like your own.



Further reading and support

If these questions resonate with you, you may also find it helpful to explore:

  • [Existential Crisis] — for reflections on meaning, identity, uncertainty and finding your direction in life.

  • [Individual Therapy] — to learn more about working with me online and exploring the questions or difficulties you are facing.

  • [Free Self-Reflection Resources] — guided questions and resources to help you reflect on your values, identity and what matters to you.

If you are finding it difficult to move forward, online individual therapy can offer a space to explore what is making the decision feel so challenging, without being told what you should choose.

You can learn more about [individual therapy with Steven] or get in touch if you would like to explore whether working together might be helpful.


 
 
 

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Steven Webster Therapist

 

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