The Restaurant Menu That Broke Me
I stared at the menu for 15 minutes. My friends had ordered. The server had come back twice. And I still couldn't decide between the pasta and the burger.
It wasn't about the food. It was about the fear of making the wrong choice.
What if I order the pasta and regret not getting the burger? What if the pasta is bad? What if I'm still hungry? What if I waste money on something I don't like? What if—
"It's just food," my friend said gently. But to me, it wasn't. Every decision—no matter how small—felt monumental. Because what if I chose wrong?
This pattern dominated my life. I'd spend hours researching which toothpaste to buy. Days agonizing over whether to text someone back. Weeks paralyzed by career decisions. Months stuck between options, terrified of making a mistake.
"Decision paralysis is rooted in perfectionism and fear of regret," explains Dr. Barry Schwartz, psychologist and author of The Paradox of Choice. "When you believe every decision has a 'right' answer and you're responsible for finding it, choosing becomes unbearable."
Here's how I learned to make decisions without drowning in anxiety.
Why Decision-Making Felt Impossible
For years, I thought I was just "bad at decisions." But it wasn't a personality flaw—it was a pattern born from fear.
I Believed Every Decision Had One "Right" Answer
I treated decisions like math problems with a single correct solution. If I chose wrong, I'd failed.
"Most decisions aren't right or wrong—they're just different paths," Dr. Schwartz notes. "But when you convince yourself there's only one optimal choice, every other option feels like failure."
I Was Terrified of Regret
I didn't fear making mistakes—I feared regretting them.
What if I chose the wrong career and wasted years? What if I moved cities and hated it? What if I ended a relationship and realized I'd made a mistake?
The weight of potential regret paralyzed me.
I Outsourced My Decisions to Others
I'd ask everyone's opinion, hoping someone would tell me what to do. But more input just meant more confusion.
"When you rely on others to make decisions for you, you never learn to trust yourself," explains Dr. Schwartz. "And when things don't work out, you resent them—and yourself—for not knowing better."
I Overvalued Having Options
I thought more choices meant better outcomes. But research shows the opposite: too many options increase anxiety and decrease satisfaction.
A famous study found that shoppers were more likely to buy jam when offered 6 varieties than 24. More options = more overwhelm.
I Mistook Indecision for Thoughtfulness
I told myself I was being "careful" and "thorough." But I wasn't gathering useful information—I was spiraling.
There's a difference between thoughtful deliberation and anxious rumination. I was doing the latter.
The Turning Point
I was stuck between two job offers. Both were good. Both had pros and cons. I made a pro/con list. Then another. I called friends. I researched company reviews. I made spreadsheets comparing salaries, benefits, commute times, career trajectories.
Two weeks passed. I still couldn't decide.
Finally, exhausted, I flipped a coin.
Heads: Job A. Tails: Job B.
It landed on heads. And in that instant, I felt... disappointed.
I didn't want Job A. I wanted Job B.
The coin didn't make the decision—it revealed what I'd known all along but was too afraid to trust.
That's when I realized: I wasn't bad at making decisions. I was bad at trusting myself.
What Actually Helped
1. I Stopped Trying to Predict the Future
I couldn't know which choice would be "right" because I couldn't see the future.
Instead of asking, "Which choice will I regret less?" I started asking, "Which choice aligns with who I am right now?"
"You can't optimize for an unknowable future," Dr. Schwartz says. "You can only make the best choice with the information you currently have—and trust you'll handle whatever comes next."
2. I Set a Decision Deadline
Without a deadline, I'd research forever.
Now, I give myself a time limit: I'll decide by Friday. Once the deadline hits, I choose—even if I'm not 100% certain.
Decision-making rule: If a decision takes less than 5 minutes to execute (like ordering food), I give myself 30 seconds to decide. If it takes days or weeks to execute (like accepting a job), I give myself a few days to research—then I decide.
3. I Used the "10-10-10 Rule"
When stuck, I ask:
- How will I feel about this decision in 10 minutes?
- How will I feel in 10 months?
- How will I feel in 10 years?
This helps distinguish between decisions that truly matter and ones I'm over-inflating.
Ordering pasta vs. burger? Won't matter in 10 minutes, let alone 10 years.
Taking a new job? Might matter in 10 months, but in 10 years, I'll have learned and grown regardless of which I chose.
4. I Stopped Asking Everyone's Opinion
Too many perspectives = decision paralysis.
Now, I limit input to 1-2 trusted people whose judgment I respect. Then I make the call myself.
Why this works: I'm not crowdsourcing my life. I'm gathering perspective, then trusting my gut.
5. I Embraced "Good Enough"
Perfectionism told me I needed the best choice. But chasing "best" is exhausting and often impossible.
I started aiming for "good enough": a choice that meets my core needs and values, even if it's not perfect.
"Satisficers (people who settle for 'good enough') are happier than maximizers (people who chase the optimal choice)," Dr. Schwartz's research found. "Maximizers second-guess themselves constantly. Satisficers make a choice and move on."
6. I Practiced the "Hell Yes or No" Rule
If something isn't a clear "hell yes," it's a no.
This works for non-essential decisions: social invitations, new commitments, optional purchases.
If I'm ambivalent, the answer is no. I save my energy for things that genuinely excite me.
7. I Reframed Failure as Information
I used to think making a "wrong" choice meant I'd failed. Now I see it as data.
If I choose something and it doesn't work out, I learn what I don't want. That's not failure—that's clarity.
Example: I once took a job that looked perfect on paper but made me miserable. Was it a mistake? No. It taught me what I value in a workplace (autonomy, creativity, mission-driven work). That clarity informed every decision after.
8. I Stopped Romanticizing "The Road Not Taken"
When I chose one path, I'd obsess over the other: What if I'd chosen differently?
This is called counterfactual thinking—imagining alternate realities where you made different choices.
Here's the thing: The road not taken isn't better. It's just different, and your brain romanticizes it because you don't know its downsides.
Reframe: Instead of "What if I'd chosen differently?" ask, "What can I do to make this choice work for me?"
9. I Built Trust with Small Decisions
I couldn't trust myself with big decisions because I'd never practiced trusting myself with small ones.
So I started small:
- Ordering food without asking others' opinions
- Choosing a movie without researching reviews
- Buying the first shirt I liked instead of comparing 10 options
Each small decision I made (and survived) built confidence for bigger ones.
10. I Accepted That Some Decisions Don't Matter
Not everything is life-altering.
Most decisions are reversible, low-stakes, or inconsequential in the long run. Treating them like life-or-death creates unnecessary anxiety.
Questions to ask:
- Is this decision reversible? (If yes, the stakes are lower.)
- Will this matter in a year? (If no, spend less time on it.)
- What's the actual worst-case scenario? (Usually not as bad as I imagine.)
My Decision-Making Framework Now
When faced with a decision, I ask myself:
Step 1: Is this decision important?
- If no: Choose quickly and move on.
- If yes: Proceed to Step 2.
Step 2: What do I need to know?
- Gather essential information (not every possible piece of information).
- Set a research deadline (e.g., "I'll research for 2 days, then decide").
Step 3: What do my values say?
- Which choice aligns with my core values?
- Which choice reflects who I want to be?
Step 4: What does my gut say?
- After gathering info, what's my intuition telling me?
- If I had to decide right now, what would I choose?
Step 5: Make the decision and commit
- Choose.
- Accept that I won't know if it's "right" until later.
- Trust I'll handle whatever comes.
Step 6: Don't revisit the decision
- Once I've chosen, I stop second-guessing.
- I focus on making my choice work instead of wondering about alternatives.
What I'd Tell My Past Self
You're Not Bad at Decisions—You're Just Scared
Decision paralysis isn't a character flaw. It's fear masquerading as carefulness.
There's No Perfect Choice
Most decisions aren't right or wrong. They're just different paths. Both lead somewhere.
Regret Is Part of Life
You can't avoid regret by overthinking. You'll regret things no matter what you choose. That's being human.
The goal isn't to eliminate regret—it's to build a life you value, even when things don't go as planned.
Trusting Yourself Is a Skill
You learn to trust yourself by making decisions and surviving them—over and over.
Start small. Build from there.
Indecision Is a Decision
When you avoid choosing, you're still choosing—you're choosing inaction, stagnation, and letting life happen to you.
Choosing imperfectly is better than not choosing at all.
Your Decision-Making Action Plan
This week:
- Identify one decision you've been avoiding
- Set a deadline to make that decision
- Practice making small decisions quickly (what to eat, what to wear)
This month:
- Use the 10-10-10 rule on one major decision
- Make one decision without asking anyone's opinion
- Choose "good enough" instead of "perfect" for one choice
Ongoing:
- Practice trusting your gut
- Stop revisiting decisions you've already made
- Remind yourself: "I'll handle whatever happens"
- Celebrate decisions you make (even imperfect ones)
The Bottom Line
I still overthink sometimes. I still get stuck. But I've learned that making a decision and course-correcting is better than staying paralyzed.
"You don't need to make the perfect choice," Dr. Schwartz reminds us. "You need to make a choice, commit to it, and trust yourself to navigate what comes next."
The pasta vs. burger? It doesn't matter. The job offers? Both would have worked out differently, but both would have been fine.
What matters is learning to trust yourself enough to choose—and to trust yourself enough to handle the outcome.
You're more capable than you think. Choose. Commit. Adjust as needed.
You've got this.
