Should We Always Make the Right Choice? A Reflection from a “Wrong Turn”
Don’t overthink it. Choose. Move. And keep moving.
Title: Should We Always Make the Right Choice? A Reflection from a “Wrong Turn”
The other day, I received a comment on my blog from a reader that stopped me in my tracks:
“I'm studying Russian at a fairly average university, and I'm graduating next year. Should I find a job, or try to pursue a master's in a completely different field? With AI being so powerful now, I feel lost as someone in the language track. What should I do?”
I sat with this question for a while. I even discussed it with ChatGPT. But in the end, I didn’t give a direct answer—because I felt like I wasn’t qualified to do so. And maybe that’s okay.
Still, the question stuck with me. It reminded me of the kind of advice I used to desperately seek, hoping someone would tell me exactly what to do with my life. But now, I realize—other people’s advice is just a reference point. It can’t truly replace the voice inside you that already knows what matters most.
And so, as both graduation and national college entrance exam season approach, I found myself reflecting on a bigger question:
Is it more important to make the “right” decision, or to make a decision—any decision—and then keep adjusting until it becomes right for you?
This is the essence of the “choice” dilemma. What major to pick. Which city to work in. Who to marry. All the things we spend so long agonizing over.
Humans are strange creatures. We tell ourselves to take life seriously, to be responsible. But life isn’t just a checklist—it’s messy. It’s full of constraints, doubts, compromises. Yet we can’t stop obsessing over how to “choose right.” Maybe that’s just part of being human. As Socrates once said: An unexamined life is not worth living.
Maybe my story can offer a little perspective.
Four Years Ago…
It was the day my college entrance exam results came out. I kept refreshing the page, hands shaking, stomach twisted. Hope and dread all wrapped up into one moment. Every student knows that feeling. It’s part of what makes youth so vivid.
Finally, the message arrived: 543. My teacher tried to soften the blow: “Not bad at all!” But my mind didn’t even register the words. I felt like I had left my body. The world around me—a noisy family gathering in the village—faded into silence. It was like I had become a ghost, unable to feel anything.
When it came time to choose a college major, I didn’t do much research. At the last minute, I clicked on a major I barely understood—just to try my luck. And that’s how I ended up here, four years later.
But Here’s What Happened Since Then
Not to “compensate” for my test score (though it was far below the 640 I had been aiming for), but just… out of curiosity, instinct, and some small spark inside me.
- I joined a lab and worked on real experiments.
- I taught myself bioinformatics and R programming.
- I applied for—and got—a provincial research project on my own.
- I started this blog, purely out of interest. (Someone even asked if I take ad placements. I said no, thank you!)
- I read like crazy: investment books, obscure nonfiction, literature, English books, Chinese books—you name it.
There are even more things I’m working on right now, quietly and consistently. I won’t spoil them. You can try and guess.
Time flies. My old high school classmates are already securing jobs or getting into top graduate schools. And me? Graduation is right around the corner. I still feel like I’m just getting started.
If I could go back and talk to the me who just saw that test score, I’d say:
“This is only the beginning.”
And if I could talk to the me who’s about to graduate, I’d say:
“Wait—what, it’s over?! fucke. This is where life really begins.”
See? That random, half-hearted choice I made four years ago? That “bad” outcome? Turns out, it didn’t matter that much. What seemed like failure then barely even registers now.
So Here’s the Real Question
We spend so much energy asking: What should I choose?
But maybe the more important question is:
“If I choose the wrong thing… will I still keep living with intention?”
If the answer is yes, then maybe the choice itself isn’t the point.
What we think we “like” is often just what we think we know. What we fear or reject is often just what we haven’t truly explored. The only solution? Just pick something. Stop hesitating. And adjust along the way.
Life is not a single decision—it’s a long, winding journey. You’ll discover new landscapes you never imagined. And I promise you: many of them will be far more interesting than what you originally planned.
So to that reader, and to anyone standing at a crossroads:
Don’t overthink it. Choose. Move. And keep moving. The right path is rarely obvious. But it often becomes clear… only after we’ve walked it.