leaning into the unknown
on big decisions and becoming
Am I OK? is the name of the movie I just watched on my flight from London to Boston. Beyond the title, the plot resonated with me because like the main characters, I’m feeling pulled between Los Angeles and London right now.
I am currently standing at a crossroads. For any one who has ever had to decide between jobs, schools, or make a major decision about moving anywhere new, the unknown can be daunting. Although I am not unaccustomed to uprooting myself—having never lived anywhere for more than a year since graduating from college—there is something transformative about consciously upending everything that feels familiar and settling down somewhere new.
Since I last wrote on this page, I have been experiencing a tumultuous onslaught of emotions: anxiety, despair, jubilation, rejection, uncertainty, and nostalgia. All of this is fueled by the looming decision of where I will spend the next five to six years of my life. I am doing my best to stay calm and not overinterpret signs I think the universe is sending me.
This past week I was in London, one of my favourite cities, and my nostalgia was hitting hard. I found myself reminiscing on the year I spent living in Germany and reflecting on the past six months of preparing for graduate school in the U.S. People often say that our past informs our present; how our histories affect the way we think and behave today. I sometimes wonder what I could have done differently, or ruminating over my past mistakes. I have a hard time dealing with personal pain, grieving the loss of relationships and future selves that will never be. But at some point, we have to accept the notion that there’s no redo, that we have to let go of the fantasy of creating a better past.
The whole last month has been a confrontation with my sense of inadequacy. I wonder if I’ll ever be good enough? What if I just worked harder? I internalize my limits and recognize that I measure myself way too much against a ruler of another’s making. By pursuing others’ definition of success, I have sacrificed my own happiness.
This has manifested as imposter syndrome—the belief that others overestimate my competence. My confidence wavers, likely because I have become an “insecure overachiever,” always feeling that no matter what I attain, I still fall short of my accepted standards. I live in a city where the social currency is intelligence, where status and security are often tied to intellectual prowess.
People warn against social comparison, but for me, it has also been a source of motivation. Without role models, there would be no one to raise the bar. I am fortunate to be surrounded by remarkable people who inspire me every day to get better at getting better. This has been my attempt to adopt more of a growth mindset about my abilities and future career path.
“Imposter syndrome says, ‘I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s only a matter of time until everyone finds out.’ Growth mindset says, ‘I don’t know what I’m doing yet. It’s only a matter of time until I figure it out.’” - Adam Grant, Hidden Potential
I would not say that I am a naturally gifted writer, and I am well aware of the gaps in my knowledge. I will never be the best in my trade, nor the social scientist of my generation. But I will always be endlessly curious. My absorptive capacity to always seek out more information, and keep learning is my strength.
Last week I spoke with Professor Samir Nurmohamed who studies how people respond to adversity. His research finds that being the favorite can make us complacent while being the underdog can make us persistent. Even simply thinking of oneself as an underdog can boost confidence during the job search.
I’ll always ponder, “What if I just had more experience or qualifications?” Maybe that would then help push my confidence forward. But if we are ever going to make a meaningful contribution to the world, we’ll probably have to do it in a state of feeling somewhat unprepared.
No big decision is ever made with 100 percent certainty. These decisions are not made to feel convenient or confident. They challenge us. They offer a chance to build more identity capital, and through that, resilience.
If the decision is hard, it might be because there are no correct answers. I’m grateful to have multiple good options, but there are still tradeoffs associated with every choice. I just have to make the best one for me right now, and invest fully into making that option work.
Looking for the most ideal job, school, or city can leave us feeling more anxious and stressed. Instead, I try to practice future-self forecasting. Can I envision myself being happy in a certain place? Through my recent conversations with PhD students at various schools, I always find myself asking them the simple question of “Are you happy here?”
I recently heard in a podcast cite a study in which parents were asked what they wanted most for their children. Their response: they wanted their kids to be happy and kind. But when the children were asked what they believed their parents wanted most for them, they answered: to be successful. I am still unpacking a lot of the ways my growing up shaped me, especially the ideas implanted by my parents. But I think we can begin by not always equating success with hard work.
Instead of always striving for achievement, we should place more priority on how we get there. Of course hard work is important, but what ultimately matters is how well we learn. Are we making the decision that will allow us to learn the most?
Life is exciting because we don’t know what will happen. Oliver Burkeman writes, “A football match is exciting because you don’t know who’ll win. A field of intellectual study is absorbing because you don’t yet have a handle on it all. The greatest achievements often involve remaining open to serendipity, seizing unplanned opportunities, or riding unexpected bursts of motivation.” You can’t know what you don’t already know.
So, for anyone who is also at a fork in the road, facing a major life decision, I hope you will lean into the unknown. Take bold action, aim to make an impact, and trust that you won’t always be fully ready.