How Do You Know What You Want?
seriously i'm asking
I’ve always known what I wanted. Indecisiveness only ever rears its head in the supermarket if I’m completely honest. The younger version of me, as far back as single digits, knew what she wanted. She saw versions of life on screens and imagined from books and simply understood that they were designed for her too. And the most she could be was hopeful that maybe someday they’d be real.
In hindsight, the child star dream is now a bullet gladly dodged, knowing what we know.
At a certain point balancing exams with acne and slowly souring friendships took priority over the question of what I wanted that loomed over me in neon lights. Today that looks more like balancing rent with emails and hitting protein/fibre goals1. The question of what I want applies only to my dinner each night, which is frankly a question I’m sick of asking.
Maybe it comes with age. Maybe it’s the existential aura that birthdays seem to possess. Or maybe I don’t have an easy answer for this. The matter of what I want is feeling a lot less simple and instant these days. I miss the child version of me that knew without a doubt.
So I read some of the books google recommended. Or half of some of them because eventually after three chapters the message repeats itself over 300 pages. I watched ted talks. Listened to podcasts on long walks, taking notes when something should have hit a nerve. And yet, I come up answer-less.
You might be thinking, “live in the moment more often! enjoy the present! don’t dwell or hope too much”. You’re right. But, and there always is one, I don’t want to get lost living in every current moment to such an extent that I end up asking no questions and wake up ten years from now in the same version of my present moment. If that is what makes you happy then I can respect that. But for me Groundhog Day is a horror film. At least I know what I don’t want.
Yesterday I went for a walk around the block. I started recording a voice memo and brought the phone to my ear so it looked like I was on a call. Note that no one would have cared otherwise but I was, and clearly am, in my head. For five minutes I asked my phone questions and chatted through them. I pressed play to listen back and there was nothing but fuzz. I’d recorded my coat pocket thanks to my bluetooth earphones. It's probably for the best. Next time I’ll just call apple support. For the price of my iPhone, it should come with a therapist.
Inspiration has stopped striking. It’s more like on strike as of right now. I’m reading a lot and nothing. I’m on Pinterest and nothing. Watching films and, you guessed it, nothing. It’s probably not helping that instead of making things like I used to as a kid, I’m scrolling and seeing too many people and their thoughts on my little screen2. Substack included sorry. (Confusing because also I love it here?)
Eventually I have to stop writing this draft but I don’t have a resolution to finish on. What I do know about myself is that I love making stuff. Having ideas is fun. Turning them into real life things is magic. That’s all I have to build from.
Is it as simple as getting on a plane and changing my scenery?
Or meeting my most driven and creatively disciplined friends for coffee?
Or turning off my stupid phone perhaps?
I’m asking. Send help.
It’s now four months later as I’m writing this, and a lot has changed since. I have a lot more clarity as of right now about what it is I want, so I wrote a guide on how I figured it out. It averages at a 7 minute read. Click below if you’d like to find out more.
BOOOO BORING
probably all very tired of the “your phone is the problem” discourse but it’s real and sadly relevant though I am sorry
It's good with the no-resolution ending : life is like that ...
😉
This is what I have been feeling for the past couple of months.