What Is Still Yours to Choose
We were midway through a meeting, reviewing a proposal to reposition one of our long-standing leadership programs. Enrollment had leveled off, and the team had done thoughtful work to strengthen the marketing. Our conversation focused on positioning, growth, and audience appeal. And the revised framing seemed likely to broaden interest.
But, as we walked through the slides, I began to feel uneasy.
In making the program more accessible, the language suggested a kind of transformation that sounded more immediate and straightforward than the experience actually was. The work itself required time, discomfort, and sustained engagement. That hadn't changed, but the way it was being presented smoothed over those realities.
No one raised this concern.
People nodded as we moved from one point to the next. The direction was clear and starting to gain momentum.
At that point, I caught myself doing some calculating.
Was my concern significant enough to slow the discussion? Would I upset the people in the room? Was I seeing something important or simply reacting to a preference about language? Would raising it make any practical difference?
I found myself leaning toward silence because my concern was nuanced. Support for the proposal seemed otherwise unanimous. With a few more slides and comments, the meeting would be over.
Then I noticed something.
My hesitation had little to do with our actual goals and strategy. What was bothering me was imagining myself having to support messaging that, in meaningful ways, misrepresented what we were asking of people. This was an ethical issue that also affected my integrity.
Yet I could feel how easily I was about to set this concern aside because the cost of raising it felt greater than the likelihood of changing anything. I saw that the decision I needed to make was about how I wanted to participate in the conversation, not about whether I could change the outcome.
That realization clarified the choice for me.
So, I spoke briefly and directly. I shared what I believed had been left out. The decision itself didn't change by the time the meeting ended. But I left with something intact that would have been diminished if I'd remained silent.
What Is Still Yours to Choose
Most of us encounter moments like this regularly.
Sometimes they involve speaking up, other times restraint. We might need to name a boundary, hold a difficult conversation, or stop participating in something that no longer feels right. The details vary, but the underlying choice is similar.
There is usually something still available to us.
We are responsible for our participation, even though it may not change the outcome. We decide whether to stay connected to our own judgment or surrender it to momentum, convenience, or the expectations around us.
This is personal agency: our capacity to choose. We get to decide how we act, how we respond, and how we participate in what’s happening around us.
We often associate agency with influence, authority, or visible impact. But its most important expressions occur long before any result appears. They occur in the moment we choose whether to remain connected to what we genuinely see and know.
The History We Create With Ourselves
Agency and self-trust are closely linked.
Each time we act in alignment with our own judgment, we strengthen that relationship. And a little distance develops in this relationship when we override what we know in order to maintain ease, approval, or comfort.
That distance is easy to ignore at first, but it becomes harder to live with over time.
Perhaps you can point to situations where you've pulled back, stayed quiet, softened a concern, or convinced yourself that speaking up wouldn't matter. Often those decisions are understandable or even wise. But they do leave a trace.
Over time, we develop a history with ourselves.
We remember the moments when we spoke in spite of feeling nervous or uncertain. We remember the boundaries we honored, the concerns we voiced, and the situations where we remained present rather than withdrawing. We also remember the times we abandoned our own judgment.
Those experiences accumulate and shape our ability to trust ourselves.
Do we trust that, when a difficult moment arrives, we will stay connected to what we see and know? Can we trust that we won't automatically surrender our judgment to momentum, convenience, or the expectations around us?
Although the outcomes of our choices are often beyond our control, the choices of how we participate remain ours. And over time, those choices become part of our character. They shape the kind of person we become.
You can’t always determine what happens around you. But you get to decide whether you remain in relationship with yourself as it happens.
That is what’s still yours to choose.
A Practice Invitation
Over the next few days, notice a moment when you feel the pull to go along: where it would be easier to go along, stay quiet, smooth something over, or ignore your own judgment.
Pause and ask yourself:
What is mine to choose here?
You don't need to force an outcome or make a large move. Simply take one step that reflects your own participation. Maybe it’s speaking a sentence you would have withheld, naming a boundary you would have avoided, or simply deciding to stay present when you’d been inclined to withdraw.
Be deliberate and watch what this does to you.
Does it make you feel uneasy? Proud?
What does it do to your sense of self-trust?
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And that’s The Gist of It™: Helping people reclaim themselves in a world that constantly pulls them away.
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Marilyn Gist, PhD