Decisions, decisions

And not just with donuts.

The Decisions That Feel Right (But Might Just Feel Safe)

Last week, I stood in line at the fancy Brooklyn donut shop for way too long. It’s the kind of place that takes their pastry glazes very seriously. I stared at the board, weighed my options, and did what any sensible adult would do: panicked and picked the same one I always get.

It was fine.

But walking out, I had that familiar flicker: did I actually want that one or did I just want to avoid the tiny risk of not liking something new?

Obviously, most life decisions aren't donut decisions. But the pattern holds. We often choose the thing that feels right because it feels familiar, safe, low-risk. We tell ourselves it’s the smart move. The responsible one. The one with a good explanation. But underneath, it’s not so much right as it is comfortable. And comfortable is often just code for “I know how to survive this.”

The Favorite That Sneaks In

When I’m coaching someone through a tough decision, I listen carefully. Not just to the facts or the logic, but to the words behind the words. Most of the time, they’ve already chosen a favorite, they just haven’t admitted it to themselves yet. It’s the option they linger on. The one they justify harder. But when I press a little, gently, we often find it’s not their best choice. It’s their least scary one.

So much of decision-making is about sorting out our real desires from our safety mechanisms.

Questions That Open Things Up

That’s where the good questions come in.

• What about this option makes it feel “right”?

• Is it pulling you toward your goals, or just away from discomfort?

• If fear weren’t a factor, would you still choose it?

That last one can be a doozy.

Fear has layers. Sometimes it’s the obvious stuff: what if I fail, what if I lose money, what if people think I made the wrong call? But sometimes it’s sneakier: fear of disappointing someone. Fear of feeling stupid. Fear of wanting too much.

Say It Out Loud

Which is why one of my favorite decision-making hacks is this: say both options out loud. Notice what happens in your body. Which one feels like relief? Which one feels like possibility?

Relief is seductive. It feels like exhaling. But that’s often a clue you’re choosing to escape a feeling rather than move toward a future. Possibility, on the other hand, usually comes with a jolt of nerves. Possibility is active. It asks something of you. That can be scary, but it’s also how we grow.

Try It On for Size

Another good one: imagine you’ve already chosen the option you’re secretly avoiding. You said yes to the bigger role. You moved to the new city. You ended the partnership. Whatever it is. Then sit with it. What comes up? Are you surprised to feel a sense of alignment, even if it’s laced with fear? Or is there a deep internal no that gets clearer the longer you pretend?

Look from the Future

And of course: zoom out. Not just five months from now, but five years. Does this choice move your story forward? Or does it just keep things tidy?

To be clear, I’m not here to demonize safety. Sometimes the safe choice is the right one. Sometimes we’re tired, raw, or just need stability, and that’s valid. But it’s worth asking: am I choosing this because I really want it? Or because I don’t trust myself to handle the alternative?

Self-Trust Is the Gate

That’s the hinge of it all. Self-trust.

When you trust that you can handle what happens next (whatever it is) you free yourself up to make braver choices. Ones that open doors instead of keeping things small. Ones that might, eventually, lead to your own weird and beautiful version of success.

And yes, sometimes the donut is just a donut. But sometimes, it’s a mirror.

So if you’re staring down a decision right now - personal, professional, existential-don’t just ask yourself what feels right. Ask what you might choose if you weren’t afraid. Ask what might feel a little risky, but also a little bit like relief, and a little bit like becoming.

And if you need a sounding board, I’m here. I’ll bring the questions. You bring the coffee. Maybe we’ll split a new donut, just to see what happens.