He was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a course catalog like it held the answers to his future.
My 14-year-old son is planning his freshman year of high school, choosing classes and mapping out a path, and the weight of these decisions landed hard. What if he picks wrong? What if the class is too hard, or it feels like a waste of time?
He was spiraling. And I recognized it. Because I’ve been there more than once.
So we sat down, and I told him about all the things that I was certain I wanted to be in high school. Then college came, and I was equally certain about that next chapter. Then I sat at my first job, stared at my computer for at least an hour, and said: “Why did they hire me?” Hello, imposter syndrome. It showed up again a decade later when I was hired as an analyst at Microsoft. It was the same feeling, just in a different chair.
Becoming a parent was no different. A few months before my son was born, I panicked as I thought about all the unknowns ahead. And yet, somehow you navigate it. The uncertainty becomes more familiar. You often end up somewhere you never imagined, and exactly where you needed to be.
That’s the point that I hoped my son would remember. Not knowing doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong. It’s just one part of the process.
The Pressure to Have It Together
The story we tell ourselves goes like this: if you know where you’re going and how you’re getting there, you’re on track. If you don’t, you’re failing.
My son isn’t alone in this. I see it everywhere right now. Kids who haven’t taken a single high school class yet are already auditioning for a future self they’ve never met. They’re doubling up on science classes, loading up on AP classes because somewhere along the way, they feel like they need to have it together.
And honestly? We do the same thing as adults.
The inner chatter gets loud fast. What if I make the wrong choice? What if I disappoint people? What if I waste time or close a door that can never reopen? The mind naturally gravitates toward worst-case scenarios. You overthink. You wait for a sign. You try to control what you can’t yet see.
It is exhausting.
What I’ve come to believe is that not knowing what you want doesn’t mean something is wrong with you. It’s a signal that something no longer fits and something new hasn’t quite formed yet.
You’re in the in-between. And that space, as uncomfortable as it is, takes courage to sit in without forcing an answer.
When the Ground Feels Unsteady
Certainty, real certainty, rarely shows up on demand. And waiting for it is one way we stay stuck.
One way to get unstuck is to get curious. The great thing about curiosity is that it doesn’t demand answers. It just opens a door for possibilities. When you shift from “I need to figure this out” to “I wonder what this is telling me,” something loosens. The pressure drops, helping you think more clearly.
A couple of questions to get you started:
What is this uncertainty pulling me toward?
What am I afraid of?
Uncertainty usually has something driving it, like failure, regret, judgment, or loss of security. When you name the real fear, it loses some of its grip and helps you move forward.
Come back to your values. They give you direction without forcing a destination. They don’t tell you what to decide, but they remind you who you are as you decide.
Living in the In-Between
Curiosity and values can point you in a direction, but sometimes you still have to live in the uncertainty.
What can that space look like?
When your nervous system is dysregulated from poor sleep, no movement, and constant stress, ambiguity feels unbearable. When you’re taking care of your body and keeping some rhythm in your days, uncertainty becomes something you can actually sit with. Consistent sleep, regular movement, and 10 minutes to reflect. A check-in with someone you trust.
And sometimes, the best thing you can do with uncertainty is stop staring at it. Close the laptop. Take a walk. Pick up something creative — a sketch, a recipe, a project that has nothing to do with the decision at hand. Not as a distraction. As a reset. The mind works on hard things in the background when you give it permission to step away.
The View From the Other Side
On the other side of every uncertain moment in my life, the path has looked nothing like what I expected.
Over the years, I’ve made choices that looked wrong from the outside and turned out to be exactly right. None of it was clear in the moment. All of it makes sense in hindsight.
That’s what I want my son to carry with him: not a perfectly mapped out freshman year, but the quiet confidence that he’s going to figure it out. Because uncertainty isn’t a sign you’re lost. It’s part of the path.
A Tiny Experiment
Try this: At the end of this week, take 10 minutes and write down one thing that got clearer. It doesn’t have to be the answer to your uncertainty. It just has to be something you didn’t know on Monday.