Get a good job and settle down
Harvard Square in the nineteenth century was a happening place. (Source: Schlesinger Library on the History of Women in America)
In my early twenties, when I was trying to figure out my life, I briefly pursued the idea of moving to Boston, which is just over an hour from the small town on the southernmost coast of Maine where I grew up.
On a hot summer day (yes, they have them in New England), I drove down to an outlying commuter station and took the T into Cambridge, where I met with a really cool and interesting young woman and her roommate. They were looking for a third. I remember that the monthly rent for one room of this shared three-bedroom apartment was more than I ended up paying for my first one-bedroom apartment in Atlanta, which was a palace compared to these potential digs.
But the location! Just a few blocks from Harvard Square. After our brief meeting, I had a solo lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant just off the Square (my first-ever Vietnamese food, and possibly my first ever-solo lunch at a restaurant, period) and stepped out to where the action was.
There were throngs of people. A group of drummers were pummeling djembes to a relaxed, appreciative audience. There were interesting shops all around. It was diverse and bustling and vibrant and everything that I was looking for.
But I had a feeling that surprised me: apathy. After only a moment of taking it all in, I stepped underground and took the T back to my car.
Could I have invested more deeply and had a more memorable experience as a result? Yes. Could I have made a life for myself in Boston/Cambridge, if I’d committed to it 100%? Probably. But I didn’t feel like it.
Just a few months later, I stepped into what would become my first Atlanta apartment and despite the shabby midcentury surroundings, I felt the opposite of apathy: A surge of joy. I signed a lease the next day and moved all my possessions down to Georgia shortly after.
“And life has been perfect ever since!” Well, no. But I do believe that trusting my gut on that decision paid off. It always does. My life in Atlanta may not have been perfect, but the path I’ve taken wouldn’t have been possible elsewhere. I could never have predicted it years ago when I declined Boston and chose Atlanta, but it turned out to be an excellent decision — even though I arrived with no job.
It’s easy to question a gut feeling that doesn’t make logical sense. I could give you countless examples of times where I’ve beat myself up for having a feeling that doesn’t fit the facts. But time and time again, it’s been clear in retrospect that my intuition was guiding me wisely. I’ve learned to skip the “beating myself up” part and read my internal compass without judgment.
On the flip side, I’ve certainly ignored my gut, made terrible decisions, and paid the price. I try not to beat myself up too hard there, either — it’s more important to learn from my mistakes than to punish myself for them.
This is where I might pivot and encourage you to trust your gut when making decisions — to trust the feelings of apathy or joy or curiosity that lead you along your path, no matter how illogical they may seem. But who am I to tell you what your path is or how to follow it? Getting a handle on our own decision-making is a lifelong process. What has worked for me may not work for you.
Instead, what I really want to say is this: The people around you — especially, frustratingly, your students, your children, or others you mentor — may make decisions that you take issue with, taking their lives in directions that you would find intolerable or downright frightening (or sticking with situations that you would be compelled to leave). Some people tend to make leaps into the unknown, while others prefer what is known. Some like routine, others seek out novelty and change. It is personal, circumstantial, and can’t be put into a formula. Your advice may be taken, but it may be ignored. There isn’t a whole lot you can do about it, especially once someone reaches adulthood.
If our own gut feelings confuse us and can’t be backed up with evidence, someone else’s gut feelings are that much more inscrutable. We can’t tell someone what to do with their life any more than we can tell them what to order in a restaurant.
I consider myself lucky that no one cared strongly one way or another whether I moved to Boston, Atlanta, or somewhere else. If my parents cared, they didn’t show it. I was free to make my choice, and therefore I accept full responsibility for how it turned out. That’s life.
Perhaps with plenty of advice I could have made “better” choices that saved me pain or money or time — but if life is about growth and learning, I would argue that the “better” choice is the one that I make myself and learn from. That’s just one perspective. What do you think?
