When it feels like you don’t have a choice... but you do
We’re told that choice is everything. That our lives are ours to shape if only we have the courage to decide.

"You always have a choice," people say, often with good intentions.
But if you've ever sat frozen in front of what should be a simple decision, unsure why it feels so hard, you're not alone.
The truth is, what we call choice isn’t always as free or empowering as it sounds. Many of us are caught in something I think of as a double illusion of choice.
First, we grow up believing we don’t really have a choice at all. Then later, when choices do exist, they’re already filtered for us. We’re offered only the options that feel socially acceptable, safe or familiar. Even when we technically get to choose, it doesn’t always feel like freedom. It can feel like picking the “least wrong” option. Like ticking a box. Like surviving, not thriving.
From the very beginning, we’re shaped by messages about what’s right, what’s expected and what’s “normal”.
Families shape us first. Sometimes with love and care, sometimes more forcefully. There are spoken and unspoken rules. Then comes school, layering on more: how we’re meant to behave, what success looks like, what not to say out loud. And then culture takes over, telling us who we should be, who we’re allowed to love, what earns approval and what should stay hidden.
We rarely question any of it at the time. As children, we’re wired to fit in, not to push back. We learn that approval comes when we stick to the script. And that being different, too honest, too emotional or too curious often comes at a cost.
That’s how the first illusion of choice gets under our skin: the belief that we don’t really have one.
It starts small. A girl was told she’s “too much” for being assertive. A boy told to stop crying. A child who colours outside the lines and quickly learns it’s easier and safer to just shrink. Later, it shows up more subtly. You start telling yourself that certain dreams are impractical. That some things are for other people. That now is not the right time. You follow the formula. Get a job. Be stable. Don’t make waves. And if the formula doesn’t quite fit, the instinct is often to blame yourself, not the shape you’re trying to squeeze into, which can be quite paralysing.
Sound familiar?
If we’ve absorbed the belief that life is something that just happens to us, not something we do or shape, then choice stops feeling like freedom. It becomes a source of anxiety, not empowerment.
You start settling, not because you want to, but because you’ve been taught not to imagine anything else. And just when you think you’ve made peace with that, when you’ve tucked away the longing for something different, the second illusion appears, and this one’s harder to spot.
It tells us we do have a choice. But only from a curated list. Only options that won’t ruffle too many feathers. You can pursue your passion, but it needs to lead to a title people respect. You can love who you love, but only if it looks "normal" enough. You can speak your truth, but only if it doesn’t make others uncomfortable. This is where we get stuck thinking we’re free, when really, we’re choosing from what’s already been pre-approved.
And most of the time, we don’t even realise we’re doing it. We think we’re being mature, responsible, and realistic. And in many ways, we are. But we’re still operating inside a narrow set of possibilities handed down by family, school, and culture. We forget to stop and ask: Is this really what I want? Or just what I’ve been trained to want?
This double illusion – that we either have no choice or only limited, filtered ones – creates a quiet, persistent disconnect.
You might feel like your life is unfolding without you. Or you might be making perfectly logical choices that still feel wrong in your gut. And when you’re stuck in that space, where the outside world doesn’t match your inside world, it can feel lonely. Confusing. As if everyone else got a handbook for life, and you missed the memo.
This isn’t just about big decisions, either. It seeps into how you see yourself. It erodes your self-trust. Because if you were raised to believe that the “right” thing is always what other people approve of, how can you trust your own judgement? If you were regularly corrected for having a different view or strong emotion, no wonder you hesitate now. No wonder you second-guess. Even when a quiet part of you knows what you want, another part is scared to claim it.
And this is where perfectionism often creeps in.
When we feel unsure or restricted, many of us try to cope by being "good". We overthink. We over-prepare. We try to get it exactly right, but nothing feels quite right, because none of it really came from us.
So what’s the way through?
It starts with noticing.
Noticing where you feel stuck.
Noticing which choices feel hollow.
Noticing where you’re performing a life, instead of living one.
And then gently asking:
"What if I do have a choice here? Even if it’s a small one. Even if it’s just in how I speak to myself".
Because choice doesn’t have to mean radical change. Sometimes the most powerful choice is just to stop abandoning yourself. To say no when something doesn’t feel true. To let go of the need to please everyone. To whisper, even if only to yourself, “I want more than this.”
You don’t have to figure it all out at once. You just have to take the next step that feels like yours. That kind of self-trust takes time. It takes patience. It takes practice. But it is absolutely yours to claim. Once you start seeing the illusion for what it is, you’re not trapped anymore. You’re just beginning to wake up.
And if any part of this feels familiar, you’re not alone. Whether this is something you’re only just noticing or something you’ve been living with for years, this space is for you.
There’s nothing wrong with you for struggling here. You’ve just been taught not to trust the part of you that already knows. And that can be unlearned. Gently. Honestly. In your own time.
