The Forked Decision

I feel as though everyone has some major event that defines him or her. Some experience they went through, some person they met, or some battle with themselves they have had that shapes them into the person they have become. I have one circumstance that has done this for me, however, as of now I do not feel comfortable enough to share it. See, I feel with each story I tell, each post I make, I get a little closer to becoming comfortable with writing for an audience as opposed to just myself. Since I am not quite there, I thought instead I would share an outcome that has come out of this experience; the fact that I cannot make up my mind about anything. If being indecisive were an art form, I would be a master like Picasso. I never seem to be able to decide if I want something or if I do not. Often, I found myself giving into the first option that pops into my head for fear that if I do not jump on it then I will not keep my mind made up long enough to ever make a decision.

At first this started out as a simple little problem. It was nothing major and nothing that affected me negatively in my day-to-day life. In the beginning my biggest dilemmas were if I wanted to have Mexican food for dinner or Subway. Now, sadly the decisions I have to make are bigger, much bigger. The older I get the more pressure there is on me to figure out what I want to do with my life. When it came to picking my major in college, there was no internal battle. It was English, hands down. I had always been a reader that got lost in books for hours and who wrote every time inspiration hit, and it hit often. Sadly, upon arriving at college my freshman year I found that this passion for reading and writing was slowly slipping away. I disliked what I was reading and hated being told what to write. The fire that had burned for reading and writing was being extinguished and I felt as though the flame would never be re-lit. This was when my indecisiveness kicked into serious aspects of my life.

I questioned my major, I questioned my passions, and I questioned everything. Soon I could not make a decision on anything. I had to ask all my friends which they thought was better. Should I write about this? Should I go to this movie? Should I keep my major? Should I be a journalist? Do I even want to be one? I could not figure out who I was or what I wanted to be. I was standing at a fork in the road and every time I went one way I just met up with another fork. It seemed life was telling me, no screaming at me to choose and I couldn’t. One day I wanted one thing, the next I wanted another. Now I wish I could tell you that I came out of this indecisiveness and now I can make life decisions quickly and often. Sadly, this is not a happy story and I can’t. While I am no longer standing at the fork starring at my toes wanting some stranger to tell me which way to go, I am still at the fork. Now, I stand tall and look in all directions ready and willing to come to a decision that will make me, well me.

--Alyssa Bermudes