Chilly air brushes past your cheeks as you look into the fridge, debating whether to microwave leftover pizza or open a dreadfully bitter kale salad.
You hesitate.
It is a quiet settling, accepting inaction as harmless. Everyday decisions drag on: picking an outfit in the morning with the precision of planning a runway show or attempting to decide if ice cream is a necessity or an unjust craving. We find ourselves sitting in stagnant uncertainty, possessed by a fear we cannot quite name.
In the golden age of interconnectedness, the amount of media we consume constantly spurs imagination. Yet this consumption also develops societal standards. Many of us dream up ideas labeled “obscure” or “unrealistic” in society, like starting your own bakery, traveling the world before working, becoming a professional athlete or pursuing a creative art-based major in college. We fear an unsuccessful future without material wealth. We do not take action in fear of our future.Â
Especially as a student, the idea of growing up weighs on our minds. We spiral, thinking: are we making it into college? Will I be able to provide for myself and my family? What job makes the most money?
Even in pursuing academic passions, the internship application tab on your computer is eventually closed as the deadline passes, ideas of passion projects drawn out are never executed and the club you wanted to start is forgotten about. Our minds believe there is always someone better, someone with more experience, more thorough of a plan and more ambition that outshines you. We envision our lives toppling down when our goals are set high and failure is “unavoidable.”
This feeling of unwillingness to trust oneself eventually becomes ingrained in our every life choice.Â
We never consider the merits of failure, our hesitance stems from a crippling fear of it. But the time we spend dwelling on whether or not we are good enough could be invested in growth — applying to your dream position, perfecting your application essay or even reflecting on rejection to prepare for the next opportunity.
The expectation of greatness at your first attempt is unrealistic. What matters is improvement through effort: you may have three people show up at your first club meeting, but a year later you have a full classroom of members.
Our hesitance in pursuit of an ideal future is what allows it to fade away.
We rehearse every possible outcome, as though the act of waiting could guarantee the right answer. So we let our ideas simmer, waiting for perfect conditions that never arrive. They fade quietly, slipping into the back of our minds until we forget the ambition that once felt exhilarating. Waiting erases the moment: the longer we hesitate, the more the world moves on without us. Opportunities evaporate. Once-possible paths close. Ideas lose relevance. We lose courage.
While we advocate for the concept of free will and choice, the societal rise of inertia and stagnancy within decision-making inhibits it. Decisions in life lose value when we do not care to choose our own futures.
At the same time, hesitance is necessary — to an extent. Weighing your options is essential to making a decision you are satisfied with, but once it becomes the standard, hesitance becomes compliance with the decisions made for you. There is a fine line between careful choice and quiet loss.
While indulging in recklessness is not the solution, we need to realize that hesitance is a luxury we cannot afford; opportunities slipping through our fingers will not circle back into the palm of our hands. By simply making a decision, we make a change. Trusting your own choices, even small, imperfect or flawed, keeps us alive in ways waiting never will.
While hesitation takes control over our lives, making choices is a step towards freedom.

