There’s a lot going on these days in the house on Henry Street. One Masters degree finished, two getting started. Two careers thriving, one floundering. Relationships starting and ending, people evolving together and individually.

Among all this change, there is one concept I cannot get off my mind: the burden of choice. I think about it in all contexts, from the mundane (excessive consumerism and materialism) to the more philosophical (the complexity of our young lives and how we make and find meaning in choices, specifically when it comes to partnerships).

I first heard the term “paradox of choice” from my former boss, and I was immediately fascinated. I believe the term was coined from the book by American psychologist Barry Schwartz titled “The Paradox of Choice – Why More is Less.” It is similar in concept to ‘analysis paralysis.’ I haven’t read the book, but according to an article in Pacific Standard magazine, the author:

“… explores the stress people feel when confronted with ample opportunity, and the regret that follows from choosing poorly (whose fault is it other than mine?). He also discusses our loss of presence (why am I doing this when I could be doing that?), our raised expectations (with so many options, why settle for less?), and our tarnished sense of self that comes from comparing our choices with the choices of others (why do I continue to pick the wrong things when Alex always picks the right ones?). In sum, Schwartz’s work poses a serious challenge to the notion that more choice brings about more freedom, and more freedom brings about more happiness.”

As a consumer, I hit a wall when, for almost every purchase I made, I researched the product, read reviews, and then hunted for the source with the best pricing. It was exhausting. I am so burnt out as a consumer that I turned into a zero-waste minimalist overnight. I’m purging my belongings on Facebook marketplace and Poshmark, making bi-monthly trips to Goodwill, consolidating and simplifying collections, and replacing none of it. I have hoarding tendencies, so this is a long time coming and quite cathartic.

Burden of choice appears everywhere, and our generation designated a slang term for it: FOMO. The “fear of missing out.” Not just on social events. But adventures. Opportunities. People. Partnerships. And it’s the people and partnerships aspect that shakes me the most.

We are so impressionable that there are people earning six- and seven-figure salaries off influencing us.

Anecdotally, I believe our generation is the first to experience a society that (almost) fully accepts any form of self-expression. You may date whomever you want and be whomever you want. You can present as whatever gender with which you identify, or none at all. You can call yourself asexual, bisexual, homo- or heterosexual, pansexual, etc. You can work remotely from anywhere on the planet, and you can swipe right and left on people all over the world too.

While there are loud, hateful people out there and always will be, there are also communities, physical and virtual, to connect with that will lovingly support almost any imaginable preference of yours.

The options are quite literally limitless.

First, let me pause to say these are options generously granted to us by being citizens of the United States, where we have this freedom, and yet there are still people in this country and others who face violence for simply embracing their own preferences or being themselves in the face of discrimination and evil. I acknowledge these thoughts are coming from a place of safety and privilege, and I’m incomprehensibly lucky to be in this position. So…

Lately, I’ve been wondering how to navigate lifestyle decisions as a millennial in 2019. All the options are starting to feel overwhelming, like a burden.

Hypothetically – Do I move across the country, knowing I can stay in contact with my family 24/7? Do I live in my hometown to be close to young nieces and nephews? Do I stay with my high school sweetheart or connect with the thousands of local singles available at my finger tips? Do I work in the field for which my undergraduate degree applies, or do I start taking online courses for the career that seems more fulfilling to me? Do I have a baby? Do I freeze my eggs? Do I get the genetic testing offered by my doctor to see if I have the genes predisposed to cancer?

Where is the line between settling and being realistic? Is the easy option settling, or is it truly the best for you? Where do you even start to look for an answer like that?

In an article on Psychology Today, “… a study in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology found that people are often happier without the burden of choice.”

It takes a lot of work to determine which choices are the best for and most authentic to you. Some choices I’ve struggled to make, some choices I’ve made and struggled to own, some choices I fully embraced. If you have any templates, formulas, or cheat-sheets for decision-making, let me know. Until then, I’ll be here guessing.

In all, it’s not the choice that’s a burden, it’s the effort necessary to determine the authentic choice that can feel burdensome. But the freedom to choose is the ultimate blessing.