How to choose from too much

There have been many times throughout my life when I have referred to myself, or been referred to, as indecisive. However, indecisive or not, there comes a time in every person’s life where a decision leaves them at a crossroads. There could be many reasons for this. To me, it’s a matter of the sheer number of possibilities and the futures each one unlocks. Some decisions are irreversible, whether it be donating an organ or committing a crime - the range is quite wide. Yet, thankfully, most decisions are reversible, meaning that you can change your mind with minimal cost or effort. Decisions regarding one’s identity are one of them. What makes you, you? What ‘aesthetic’ are you? What are the traits you pride yourself on? What aspects of yourself do you wish to improve?

These are all questions we ask ourselves as we navigate the world. This is especially the case for me, an international student moving to Europe, to a city such as Amsterdam, known for its freedom, for its self-expression, and self-discovery. As we grow up, we hype ourselves up for our university years: the years we can ‘find’ ourselves and live a life with new possibilities. Yet, no one really warns you how debilitating that process is. It is as if the analogy of a kid in a huge candy store forgets to mention the part where the kid, unable to choose, stands frozen in the aisle, and leaves with nothing at all.

When all choices seem available, it creates the illusion that a perfect option must exist somewhere, raising expectations to an impossible standard

It may seem contradictory to equate more choices with dissatisfaction, yet that is exactly what psychologist Barry Schwartz argued in 2004 with his idea of the “paradox of choice.” He found that too much freedom, in fact, can make people miserable. When all choices seem available, it creates the illusion that a perfect option must exist somewhere, raising expectations to an impossible standard. Not to mention that, the more possibilities there are, the more likely you are to second-guess whatever you picked, wondering if something else might have been better. Therefore, people start to blame themselves for those decisions, because maybe they could have made a better choice, rather than feel grateful for the options.

This is especially true in a place like Amsterdam. The city’s motto of “leven en laten leven” (i.e., live and let live) provides a powerful basis for this city’s tolerance and open-mindedness to welcome all individuals. However, the same philosophy also creates a sense of emotional distance within the community. As an international student, it is equally as easy to feel isolated as it is to feel free when you realize that everyone is busy tending to their own lives. That is why community matters so much - we tend to forget how much a simple nudge can go a long way.

Just as I am writing this piece, I was struggling with how to offer advice on the issue of too much freedom. And so, I decided to ask a friend what she thought, and it led to an open discussion of what it means to have too many choices and if they are truly as infinite as they may seem. She brought to my attention how we all have an internal compass that leads us to the choice we want to make - what feels right, what feels like something you would do. This piece of advice seems simple and, at first, ambiguous. However, after much deliberation between us, I found that it is true. For example, while it may feel overwhelming to pick a style - because really, you can take on any style you wish - you tend to gravitate toward what feels like you. What feels comfortable. It is safe to say that the decisions you make regarding your identity are never set in stone; that’s the beauty of it. What Schwartz identifies as dissatisfaction stems from the regret of making a choice that wasn't the best one - but decisions about identity are different, because you always have the agency to choose again.

To bring it back to the kid in the candy store, they can decide to get gummy worms one day, hate it, then go back and get the jelly beans - who said that it was going to be the kid’s first and last visit to the candy store? More importantly, who’s to say the kid is alone and that there isn’t someone else who can recommend their favorite candy?