Confessions of Confusion

Do you ever feel confused?

Maybe it’s about a decision you need to make or a direction you need to take. There are options, thoughts, more thoughts (hello to my fellow overthinkers), and opinions, and before you know it, everything has blended into one big muddle that you now call confusion.

Recently, I came across a quote that hit me right in the prefrontal cortex, (AKA the decision-making centre of the brain, and yes we are all neuro-scientists now):

“You’re not confused. You know exactly what to do. You’re just scared of the consequences.
Confusion is often clarity we’re not ready to face.
When you’re truly ready to know, you’ll suddenly know.”

As someone who can be incredibly indecisive and therefore a frequent visitor to the land of confusion, I was slightly offended when I first read it. But after a second glance, I let the truth sink in. It was the reminder I needed that confusion is often just a mask for fear.

It’s so much easier to say I’m confused about what to do than to admit I’m scared of making the wrong choice.
It’s easier to say I don’t have enough information yet than to face the reality that the information I have isn’t what I want to hear.

When I really think about it, confusion usually means I’m not quite ready to face what the right choice will cost me. Because the truth is, most meaningful decisions in life do come at a cost. Maybe pain, change, confrontation, loss, or a new level of responsibility.

So I hesitate, and procrastinate. A very familiar feeling. It’s like I’m back in my ten year old body on Year 6 journey; I climbed all the way to the top of a tall wooden pole for the zip line. I’d already decided I was going to do it. But the moment I reached the edge, I froze. I didn’t realise there would be so many things to fear, but now all of a sudden I was terrified of falling, of my trousers ripping, of crying in front of my class, of looking silly. Also, slightly convinced I might have a heart attack (a strange fear for a ten-year-old, I know).

Now, as an adult, that same hesitation still shows up, and it’s usually fuelled by a bunch of whirling fears that I didn’t realise were there until I’m ready to jump - fear of failure, rejection, or how others might react if I act on what I truly feel or believe.

Major confession here, but sometimes, I even disguise my fear as “processing.” I’ll talk through my decisions with others, pretending I’m seeking clarity, when really I’m gauging their reactions, hoping they’ll tell me what to do. Saying I don’t know, I’m confused can feel protective, but it’s almost like I’m waiting for someone else to make the decision, or to tell me what to do so that the outcome isn’t my responsibility.

I’ve wasted plenty of time sitting in confusion. But I’ve noticed that people who truly thrive share one powerful quality: decisiveness.

It doesn’t mean they never feel fear. It means they do it scared.* That’s the part I want to learn.

So my first goal in becoming a more decisive person is to simply notice myself in the decision-making process, to pause, name the fear, and ask, What am I really afraid will happen if I choose this?

Maybe you’re a little further along in your journey than I am.
What would be your next step toward becoming a more decisive person?

*Please take a moment to respect how I resisted the urge to use the quote ‘feel the fear and do it anyway’ here.