Game Time Decisions

Some decisions can only be made in the moment. They can only be truly understood in the moment.

Last week, I met someone at my local coffee shop who I really vibed with. I asked for her number on Monday, and she gave it to me. We had originally planned to go on a date on Friday, but she was so eager to meet that she suggested Thursday instead. That night, we took our dogs to the park, and I had a great time. I was excited for our Friday date.

When Friday came, we grabbed drinks at a local bar and then got dinner afterward. She was into me—cuddling with me at the restaurant, completely comfortable in my presence. She even came back to my place to pet my dog.

And yet, the next morning, she texted me saying she didn’t want to go on a second date. The whole thing felt strange. It was clear she had been into me, so what changed?

Confidence and Decision-Making

Making decisions under pressure—those split-second choices—show you what you’re truly capable of. And if you can make the right decisions when it counts, you can carry that confidence into the mundane aspects of life.

That’s what confidence really is, isn’t it? Not blind belief, but trust in your own actions, backed by a track record of doing what you know is right. For me, this situation reinforced something I’ve been trying to internalize: how to accept that not everything works out. Not in the moment, anyway—but eventually, it will. That belief ties directly to the feeling you get after making the right choice, even when it’s difficult.

I’m still processing the situation. I won’t see her again, but I can’t help but wonder what was going through her mind. How did she interpret everything? Life often feels like a game-time decision. Some choices require careful thought and research, while others demand instant action. The challenge is knowing which is which.

Every decision carries risk. That reality is both suffocating and freeing—like a cement block tied to your feet, yet somehow, you can still swim. The moment you accept that your life is a direct result of your own actions, everything shifts. That’s what I tried to explain to her—you are the master of your own fate. The expectations placed on you by your parents, your friends, your relationships—those are illusions. It’s terrifying, but liberating.

At one point during our date, she was completely honest with me about her fears, her uncertainties. For a brief moment, I felt something real between us. But when she realized I could see through her, it scared her. She didn’t want to be vulnerable. She didn’t want to risk getting hurt.

What she didn’t realize, and what I probably could have articulated better, was that I was scared too. However, I am trying to be a captain of my fate. That means taking control of your life instead of being ruled by it—it’s overwhelming at first. Anxiety kicks in. Then, slowly, liberation follows. It doesn’t happen overnight, but over time, you see the progression. You level up.

That’s the beauty of life: learning, meeting people, absorbing perspectives, figuring out how the world works. But I don’t know if most people are willing to take that responsibility. They’re scared. And honestly, so am I. But it’s not the fear that stops me—it’s the eagerness to see what’s on the other side.

A Timely Message

Yesterday, I sat in a sermon recap, where the message was about choosing your friends wisely. Your circle determines your future.

One of the guys, Westin—the person who first invited me to sermon recap—summed it up perfectly: "The message was timely." That’s an understatement. As people shared their takeaways, their words started to hit me harder. I almost felt called out, which is probably my ego talking. The truth is, their words were just accurate.

Molly, if you’re reading this—this one’s for you.

I realized that my habits don’t align with the life I claim I want. Which means I’m lying to myself. And lying to yourself is the worst kind of deception. That's delusion, but what I found out was vulnerability is the only real way to connect with someone. Hiding behind a mask—whether it’s sorrow, pride, or fear—only keeps people at a distance.

But I’ve also learned that not everyone wants to see you fly. Some people clip your wings because they’re too afraid to spread their own. That’s a lesson for everyone.

Not everyone will like you. So what?

If you’re out here improving yourself, learning from your mistakes, and trying to be a good person, their opinions don’t matter. Their judgment isn’t about you—it’s about their own dissatisfaction. And to be honest, I’m not completely satisfied with my life either.

But I’m in relentless pursuit of figuring it out.

That’s the journey, right? People will talk. They will have opinions. But at the end of the day, this is my life. That’s something I need to keep in mind when approaching the people I truly care about.

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The Devious Charm of the Unattainable

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The Paradox of Burnout