Choice Anxiety and Creating My Own Path

Jun 7

I play video games to relax, and one of my preferred genres is role-playing games. Many role-playing games these days tout multiple choices that affect character development and storylines, such as the Witcher series, the Fallout series, or the one I’m playing now, The Outer Worlds.

One time I was talking to a friend about The Witcher 3, I mentioned that I knew what happened after one the early main quests because I was reading a walkthrough and accidentally read a spoiler. My friend said that he tries to play without reading anything unless he gets really stuck, so he could experience the full consequences of his choices. I decided to try that myself. After all, what’s the fun if you knew what was going to happen?

The next time I came to a decision point in my game, I spent a few seconds thinking about it, then I caved and looked it up. I couldn't help myself. I noticed how, when faced with choices that I knew had consequences to the plot, I felt anxious about what would happen. Often the consequences are unclear and may blindside you, such as an instance in the Witcher 3 when shoving another character breaks their leg, and that character (reasonably) refuses to work with Geralt, the player character, from then on, thereby closing off the path to one of the endings. I felt anxious whenever I encountered a major decision because I wanted my characters to end up with the "good" endings.

This got me thinking. I grew up being told what the “right” choices were, and how to live up to expectations. I never realized how ingrained it was until I watched the way my Chinese family interacted with my cousin’s kids. When my cousin’s twin girls were toddlers, my family loved to have them smile for the camera, say ni hao's and bye bye's, put their hands together in a traditional greeting, and do other cute things on cue. They were toddlers, what else would you have them do?

My white husband’s daughter had her children around the same time, and I found the contrast fascinating. In our video conversations (they live in Europe), she expressed curiosity about her children as people and wondered about their personalities. She rarely trained them to say or do the right things at the right time that my family would. My family and culture trained our children to obey and live up to expectations. My husband’s family saw their kids as people to get to know and discover.

I excelled at living up to expectations. Growing up in Taiwan until I was eleven, I learned early that I received accolades when I did what my parents and family wanted. I had always wanted to be a "good kid" and didn't understand why anyone would want to misbehave. Of course, I generally enjoyed learning, so it wasn't too hard to do well in school. As long as I received good grades, my parents basically let me do what I wanted, and they didn't complain too much when I stopped going to church or chose an English degree. As a student, I learned to observe what answers my teachers wanted and gave them those answers. If they wanted the book answer, I gave them the book answer. If they wanted a thoughtful answer, I gave them the thoughtful answer. I succeed in school by following the rules and telling teachers what they want to hear. But then I ran into real life.

You might think that someone who learned to excel by following the rules would simply go into a more prescribed path like a corporate career, but I was too restless for that. My path has always been a struggle between my conditioning and my need for creativity. Even as prescribed a path as school was, learning allowed me to always encounter something new. A job where I had to do the same monotonous things everyday while minimizing my humanity was a special form of hell.

Despite that, I followed many “walkthroughs” in my adult life. I didn't just do things; I read books about them first. I studied job searching while I searched for jobs. I studied career changes when I decided to go into accounting. I studied how to make money from blogging so I could write for a living. I studied how to be a financial coach, which I gave up because I didn't want to write about personal finance. I love learning from other people, but every time I read a book or took a course, I'd try to follow their advice to a tee. But sooner or later, I'd find out other people's advice don't always work for me because I have my own preferences, dislikes, and challenges that I have to navigate, and I was afraid of stepping off the worn path.

When I first thought about starting an accounting practice, I dismissed the idea because I didn't like the somber seriousness with which most accountants marketed themselves. It just wasn’t me, and I thought I had to market myself that way to be taken seriously. I only dared try a different approach when I heard a talk about combining one's accounting practice with other interests, which inspired me to work with creatives.

Another example is writing. I’ve wanted to write and teach what I’ve learned in my life for few years now, and I kept trying to write impersonal how-to essays because that’s the kind of writing that works for SEO (search-engine optimization). I’ve struggled a lot with the question of how to make money from writing, and people have successfully used it when they write as a way to market their courses or services. I figured that’s what I would do. But when I tried to write how-to essays, my writing felt flat and dull. I was even bored while writing it, which is never a good sign. I struggled a lot with letting myself write how I actually felt, because a voice in my head kept telling me, "people don't make money writing that way." It's still there from time to time, but I try to tell it to fuck off because if I don't love what I'm writing, it becomes just another job.

I wish I could say that stepping outside of "normal," “practical,” and stable paths is liberating and exhilarating. But no, it’s absolutely terrifying. My brain frequently warns me that I'm doing all the wrong things. Where’s my walkthrough telling me everything will be okay and I’ll live happily ever after? But I’ve already tried those paths, and they didn’t make me happy. So I keep following the breadcrumbs for a chance to do work that makes me feel alive. That’s why I keep going.