In many ways, sophomore year was the year of “should.” It’s not that other years weren’t filled with “shoulds,” but during my sophomore year the usage of the word persisted in the vocabulary of my inner monologue.
I was always questioning myself. Should I have eaten out yesterday or saved the money for next week? Should I have signed up for that activity? Should I go out or stay in and sleep? Should I eat lunch with this friend or that one?
The worst was the regret. I shouldn’t have said that. I should have worn the other shirt, I shouldn’t have even tried. I should’ve been with that group last night, I should’ve worked harder on that application.
While there’s nothing wrong with a “should” every once in a while (I should really go to sleep, I should study a little more, I should wake up a little earlier tomorrow), it becomes a problem when “shoulds” turn into a perfectionistic obsession—when the “shoulds” snuff out any real desires.
I often found myself laying on the floor, yes/no tarot open on my phone, paralyzed by eight different versions of who I thought I should be and what each version would choose to do. I could visualize them all so clearly–the favorite student, the girl with an Amazonian physique, the perfect girl-next-door, the popular princess. Every decision felt like a choice between identities, and I began to constantly ask my friends, “What should I do?”
It drove people crazy. I solicited so many opinions, yet had no sense of what I genuinely wanted to do. I had snuffed that part of me out, outsourced it to my friends, random coffee chat matches, and the millions of voices I scrolled through on the internet. I was afraid to disappoint or to be disappointed. I was too scared to want anything, because if you don’t want something, you won’t be hurt when you don’t get it.
But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that making choices is worth it. I may be messing everything up, but at least I’m doing it on my own terms. I choose who to hang out with. I choose what and who to prioritize. I choose to stay in and fold laundry some weeks.
And with all the choices I make, I just know there’s something better creeping on the horizon.