“Sometimes the wrong choices bring us to the right places.” ~Unknown
For most of my life, I’ve seen the world in black and white, and I’ve felt constricted and pained as a result.
When I was a young girl, I believed there were good people and bad people, and I believed I was bad.
When I was an adolescent, I believed there was good food and bad food, and because everything tasty fell into the latter category, I channeled the shame from feeling bad into bulimia.
And when I grew into adulthood, I believed there were good decisions and bad decisions, which may sound like a healthy belief system, but this created extreme anxiety about the potential to make the “wrong” choice.
When you see life as a giant chess game, with the possibility of winning or losing, it’s easy to get caught up in your head, analyzing, strategizing, and putting all your energy into coming out victorious.
Back then, I thought for sure that if I made a misstep, I’d end up unhappy and unfulfilled, not to mention unworthy and unlovable—because there was a right path and a wrong path, and it was disgraceful to not know the difference.
One pointed toward success and bliss (which I desperately wanted to follow), and one led to certain doom.
With this in mind, I thought long and hard before moving to Spokane, Washington, at twenty-two. To live with a stranger I’d met on the Internet. And had only known for two months and met in person once.
Okay, so I didn’t really think long and hard. But I felt in my gut, when we first connected, that this was the right choice for me.
In fact, I felt certain, something I rarely felt about anything (except my innate bad-ness).
He told me we were soul mates, which was exactly what I wanted to hear, especially after spending six months bouncing from hospital to hospital, trying find the worth and substance locked somewhere within my cage of bones.
It made sense to me that, if I had a soul mate, he wouldn’t live right next door.
Disney may tell us it’s a small world, but it’s not; and I thought for sure there was something big awaiting me 3,000 miles from my hometown near Boston.
People told me I was making a mistake when I shared the details of my plan.
Some said I was too fragile to move out of my parents’ house, even if I’d planned to move close to home.
Some said I was a fool to think this man was my soul mate, or that I had one at all.
Some said I’d one day regret this choice and that they’d have to say “I told you so.”
But I felt absolutely confident in my decision—until he came to Massachusetts, two weeks before I was scheduled to move, to meet me for the first time.
I knew right then it was wrong, somewhere in my gut. I didn’t feel even the slightest spark, but my “soul mate” and I had already planned a new life together. Before we’d even met.
And I didn’t want to admit I’d made the wrong choice—not to him, who I was sure would be devastated, and not to the others, who I feared would be smug and self-righteous.
So I moved across the country anyway, thinking that maybe I’d feel differently after getting to know him better.
If you’ve ever seen a movie, you know exactly how things didn’t pan out. Since life isn’t a romantic comedy, I didn’t eventually realize he was my soul mate and fall madly in love.
Instead, our individual demons battled with each other, we fought for the better part of six months, and we eventually broke each other’s spirits, broke down, and then broke up.
You could say, after reading this, that I had made the wrong choice—especially knowing that I knew, the day I met him, that he wasn’t the man for me.
You could say I’d chosen a bad path, running away from home in a misguided attempt to outrun who I had been.
These are things I assumed I’d think if I ever decided it was time to leave.
And yet I didn’t think these things at all. In fact, this was the very first time I broadened my vision to see not just shades of grey, but a whole rainbow of vibrant colors.
Yes, I’d made an impulsive choice, largely driven by fear and fantasy. Yes, I’d acted against my instincts. And yet I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it had not been the “wrong” choice.
Because right then, I realized that, despite things not working out as I planned, I’d learned and grown through the experience, and it had served a purpose, even if not the one I originally envisioned.
Our demons colliding was a blessing, not a curse, because it forced us both to more closely examine how our issues affected our relationships—mine being toxic shame and destructive tendencies, and his being his business, and not for public consumption.
Moving so far away was valuable, not shameful, because it taught me the difference between running away from what I didn’t want and running toward what I did—a lesson I struggled to apply for many more years, but, nonetheless, now understood.
And acting against my instinct was a good thing, not a bad thing, because it taught me to listen to my intuition in the future, even if I might disappoint someone else—a lesson I may never have fully embraced without having had this experience.
That’s the thing about “wrong” choices; they usually teach us things we need to know to make the right choices for ourselves going forward, things we can only learn in this way.
Notice that I wrote “the right choices for ourselves”—not the “right choices.” Because the thing is, there are no right choices.
There isn’t one single way that we should live our lives, or else we’ll be unhappy. There isn’t one path that will lead us to success, bliss, and fulfillment.
There isn’t a straight ladder we’re meant to climb, hitting milestone after milestone until we emerge at the top, victorious, with the view to show for it.
There’s just a long, winding road of possibilities, each with lessons contained within it—lessons that can help us heal the broken parts of ourselves and find beautiful pieces we never knew existed. Pieces we couldn’t know existed until we made choices and saw how we felt.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned since that very first move, over a decade ago, it’s that life never offers any guarantees. And it can also be incredibly ironic.
Sometimes the people who seem to make all the right choices are the least happy with the people they’re being and the lives they’re leading.
We could spend our whole lives looking for external validation that we’re following a path that’s “good”—living in a narrow, black-and-white world, feeling terrified of making mistakes.
Or, we could commit to finding something good in every step along the way, knowing that the only real mistake is the choice not to grow.
I don’t know if this is right for everyone. But I know this is right for me.
On this Technicolor journey of unknown destination, I am not good nor bad, not right nor wrong, but most importantly, not restricted. In this world of infinite possibility, at all turns, I am free.
Thinking woman image via Shutterstock
About Lori Deschene
Lori Deschene is the founder of Tiny Buddha. She started the site after struggling with depression, bulimia, c-PTSD, and toxic shame so she could recycle her former pain into something useful and inspire others to do the same. You can find her books, including Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal and Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal, here and learn more about her eCourse, Recreate Your Life Story, if you’re ready to transform your life and become the person you want to be.
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Though I run this site, it is not mine. It's ours. It's not about me. It's about us. Your stories and your wisdom are just as meaningful as mine. 
What an inspiring post. Thank you.
Hi Lori
Thanks so much for sharing your insights and story. I really resonated with so many things you said. Over the years, I have gotten more comfortable at making decisions and following my intuition. I have learned that no matter what happens, we are always moving towards what we want (so long as we make that an intention), and no matter what transpires, it is there to help in some way. Sometimes it helps reveal our limiting beliefs or feelings that may need to be tweaked. Other times, it helps us fine-tune our vision.
When I looked at life in this way, it was much easier to move forward and do the things I wanted to do.
Great stuff!
I LOVED this piece. Its a piece of wisdom that I strive to live by and encourage my friends to do the same. In 2013 I was taking some risks and people didn’t understand what i was doing but I knew what I was doing. I think we hold on to these black and white ideas of whats right and wrong from childhood than we use them to judge, condemn ourselves and others. Its liberating to realize even the things that don’t work out how we thought they would still contribute to our betterment.
This is one of the most profound things I’ve ever read. I very much needed to hear this, and have for the last decade. Thank you so much for sharing this Lori…it is life-changing.
Thank you so much, Lori. This is exactly what I needed to read this morning — I can relate on so many levels. “Wrong” choices always lead to lessons learned — something I need to remind myself of constantly. The perfect post! Then again, they always are here. 🙂
That was beautiful 🙂 Thank you
This is such a great post!! As you say, there are no right choices; only right choices “for us”. I love that you “see not just shades of grey, but a whole rainbow of vibrant colors”!!
Thanks so much, and you’re most welcome. =)
Thanks Prabha!
Thanks, Chris, and you’re most welcome!
You’re most welcome, Elizabeth. I’m glad this came at a good time, and that it was helpful to you!
You’re most welcome. I’m beyond thrilled to know this was life-changing for you! This realization certainly was for me.
Thanks Kelli–I’m glad this resonated with you!
Absolutely! I’ve seen a lot of loved ones shy away from taking risks for fear of making a wrong a choice, and I understand, since I’ve been there before. But knowing the liberation I feel in viewing things as I now do, I always wish I could help people understand what you wrote right here: “…even the things that don’t work out how we thought they would still contribute to our betterment.” So true!
Realy good..thnks lori
Thanks Monica, and you’re most welcome!
A friend recently posted a quote supposedly from Jack Kerouac: “Be in love with your life. Every minute of it.” But what if one’s life consists of a series of
misfortunes and unhappy moments? Should one still love a life like
that? The novelist Herman Hesse offers a consoling inspiration : “I have always believed, and I still believe, that whatever good
or bad fortune may come our way we can always give it meaning and
transform it into something of value.” In other words, even unhappiness
can become worthy and worthwhile. A longer elaboration of this idea
comes from his 1910 novel “Gertrude”: “When I take a long look at my
life, as though from outside, it does not appear particularly happy. Yet
I am even less justified in calling it unhappy, despite all its
mistakes. After all, it is foolish to keep probing for happiness or
unhappiness, for it seems to me it would be hard to exchange the
unhappiest days of my life for all the happy ones. If what matters in a
person’s existence is to accept the inevitable consciously, to taste the
good and bad to the full and to make for oneself a more individual,
unaccidental and inward destiny alongside one’s external fate, then my
life has been neither empty nor worthless. Even if, as it is decreed by
the gods, fate has inexorably trod over my external existence as it does
with everyone, my inner life has been of my own making . I deserve its
sweetness and bitterness and accept full responsibility for it.”
Thank you so much for this. It was exactly what I needed to read right now and is in many ways similar to my own story. Less than 2 years ago I also uprooted my life to move closer to a man I met on the Internet, against the advice of a lot of people. I also knew early on that I was making a mistake but I ignored my intuition and pushed myself to do this. The relationship fell apart less than a year later and left me feeling broken in a lot of ways. I still struggle regularly with a lot of the repercussions of that choice. I think part of what I have struggled with so much is understanding why I chose to move my whole life for a relationship that never felt right, and trying to forgive myself. I think you touch on something key here…we make these choices because we need to, for whatever reason. And even if I can’t see it yet, there was a purpose. I also love what you wrote about learning to listen to your intuition because that has been my biggest lesson from all of this so far!
Hi Sarah,
You’re most welcome! It’s uncanny how similar are stories are. I understand the struggle with self-forgiveness, and I know how tough it can be to embrace it when you’re still dealing with the repercussions of a decision. I’m glad this helped you focus a little more on the lesson and be gentler with yourself!
Lori
“There’s just a long, winding road of possibilities, each with
lessons contained within it—lessons that can help us heal the broken
parts of ourselves and find beautiful pieces we never knew existed.
Pieces we couldn’t know existed until we made choices and saw how we felt.” That was beautiful & thank you for sharing this, didi…:)
“Sometimes the people who seem to make all the right choices are the
least happy with the people they’re being and the lives they’re leading.” This is something I am noticing more lately, esp when I get to know people on a deeper level…who otherwise seems to have it ‘all figured out..’ Still a lot of the times, I feel like I’m way behind in many aspects of life, compared to people my age & often feeling helpless & paralyzed in making a decision at all….
Enjoyed your story, Lori. As a wise Zen master once said, The way is simple for the one without preferences.
Glad you enjoyed it, Kapil. Very wise indeed. =)
Dear Lori….:) i am facing a bit of a problem with feeling complacet and almost a little…. arrogant… i think… when i feel things are not going so well in my life, i am a little less judmental of others, but the moment life gets a little better, i cant help feeling a little impatient, and almost unconsciously noting people’s flaws and feeling the urge to let them know and give them unsolicited advice. Its as if if when i feel confident and fulfilled, i automatically also feel complacent and judmnetal… i dont understand how to be a kinder, patient person despite trying to juggle hectic schedules and acccomplishing tasks. any suggestion? i d be very grateful. i d like to be happy, successful and fulfilled but also humble and nice at the same time. and i have absolutely loved many of ur posts. they have helped me tremendously – the many articles on this website. 🙂
Hi Lori, I really resonated with this big time. I spent many years beating myself up because I felt I had made the wrong choice and not listened to my gut. One day my close friend said ‘stop right there, I am not allowing your inner critic to continue any longer berating you’. I had lived in such shame for so long………Annie
You’re most welcome. I understand the stress of the comparison game. It never leads to anywhere good!
Lori,
Thank you so much for sharing your story. What you wrote resonates with me in so many ways. Oddly enough, I impulsively left my hometown of Spokane at age 23 to move to my then husband’s home country of South Korea. The culture shock was enormous; the marriage a slowly unfolding road of pain. And yet I feel it was the best decision I ever made. I was raised in a very rigid religious system and also have/had a shame prone perfectionistic personality. The two combined to make me feel that each choice was an irrevocable step towards either success or failure. I found though my divorce and failure to complete my M.A. that life in fact is far bigger and more glorious than I could ever imagined with my self-protective black and white plans. It is not only okay to ‘fail’–it can open us up to real joy.
Hi Annie,
I’m glad this resonated with you. Sounds like you have a wonderful friend there. =)
Lori
Hi Hannah,
You’re most welcome, and thank you for sharing yours, as well. Particularly as a fellow recovering perfectionist, I’m so happy for you. =)
Lori
Hi there,
I think it’s wonderful that you have this awareness! I know it’s not easy to recognize these kinds of patterns. Perhaps going forward, you can record in a journal when you have these thoughts to notice how often this happens and identify any triggers. You can then write down a more compassionate thought. In observing yourself in this way, with consistency, you will slowly train yourself to think those more compassionate thoughts before immediately going to a judgmental place.
I’m glad the site has helped. =)
Lori
thanks for taking out the time to respond! Yes this suggestion seems promising and I am doing what you said more actively now… observing my thoughts and patterns for triggers. Practicing ‘Gratitude’ is seriously a big positive leap….i am also very happy that this website is full of struggling yet optimistic people full of positive advice. Thanks for the wonderful work!
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You’re most welcome. Glad I could help!
Part of what you learned from that experience creates a good question to ask ourselves, about the reason behind our chosen directions or paths, when making decisions: Am I running away from what I don’t want or am I running toward what I do want?
It sounds the same until one really breaks it apart and considers the differences between the two directions. Thanks for sharing your experience of using mistakes or bad choices as teaching moments and finding the good within those choices.
Your story is really inspiring and empowering — thank you for sharing it.
Thanks Marina, and you’re most welcome. =)
Thanks for the Article Lori; I can especially relate with the idea of moving away from family and in the end finding myself even in having to retreat back home. It’s not the destination or our livelihood that makes us, but rather the journey in learning about ourselves each step of the way.
You’re most welcome, Stephen. I couldn’t agree more!
Hi Lori,
Wonderful article and I love your site. I have been on a lonnngggg personal journey and have definitely made some wrong choices along the way. In reflection I see that those choices brought me somewhere I would never have reached on my own accord. Better places. I truly feel compelled and passioned about using my lifes lessons to help other women. Do you have any suggestions on how to go about doing that? How to reach out to people like me but who may feel “lost”. Maybe and just maybe my hard choices have brought me to a place to give back and help others on similar journeys. Thank you so much.
Hi Joe,
Thanks so much–I’m glad you’ve enjoyed the site!
As far as reaching others who may feel lost, have you ever considered starting your own blog to share your experiences and lessons? Alternatively, you can write for other sites (like Tiny Buddha).
That’s a good way to test the water, actually. Perhaps after writing for a couple of other sites you’ll get a sense of whether or not you’d like to run your own blog.
Happy Friday =)
Lori
Great read. I can identify myself with so many points. I have gone through many similar phases in my life and I had thought that I was finally over the stages of indecision and regret. But I find myself again in that stage where I am doubting one of my recent decisions and it is eating at me. And my friends and colleagues seem so perfect and at ease with their decisions. It seems as though they always seem to make the right choices at the right time.
I understand. It can be so difficult to overcome that doubt! I still deal with it at times, as well. I find it helpful to remind myself that there is no such thing as a “right choice.” There are just different options, and different opportunities to learn and grow.
“I feel free”. So what you’re implicating is that the truth will set you free. I get it because the point is don’t trust anybody not even yourself; thus it means don’t trust the “thoughts” people have about religion, as you said before in the story section.
My father always told me it is ever so easy to fall into another trap. I wonder if he meant the thoughts themselves or the direction others give me; because sometimes it can be a blessing. <– wrote this forgetting my life in the moment.
You know what, I think your article, the way you feel, thats the way I chose to be with my wife and children. Waiting for the next thing to come, not sure what it is.