NdukuOutLoud

(And Other Unsavoury Truths About Decision Fatigue)

The hardest thing about giving advice is the terrible probability that you’ll eventually have to take it yourself.

And I say having to intentionally. Your turn has finally come, and your chickens have come home to roost.

Lucky you if you were compassionate and understanding when you were dishing out wisdom from the sidelines. Woe unto you if you were sitting on a high pedestal—the kind whose legs give way, sending you crashing straight through the floorboards into the very mess you so confidently diagnosed.

You probably meant well. Or at least, that’s the story you tell yourself. But deep down, maybe you thought you were better than them. That you would have made a better choice. That it really wasn’t that complicated.

That’s almost always how it goes. You know exactly what should be done—right up until the moment you’re the one who actually has to do it.

I’m feeling this way right now because my turn has come to make a few difficult decisions.

I start out thinking I know what I’m doing. And then I don’t. Then I tell myself, “If someone else brought this exact problem to me, I’d know precisely what to tell them.”

Except I also don’t like being told what to do. Not even by the imaginary, hyper-rational versions of myself I create in my head to simulate the decision-making process.

This time around, though, I broke habit and actually reached out to friends. One of them mentioned a concept I hadn’t explicitly framed before: Decision Fatigue.

It’s defined as the mental and emotional exhaustion that sets in after making a long series of choices over time—leading directly to a drop in the quality of your decisions.

I knew the feeling, but I didn’t know it had a name. And as I read through the symptoms, I was genuinely surprised by how many boxes I ticked:

• Avoidance & Procrastination: Putting off simple choices or refusing to answer basic questions.
• Impulsive Behavior: Making quick, lazy, or reckless choices just to get the decision over with.
• Brain Fog & Irritability: Feeling mentally drained or irrationally annoyed by minor daily questions (like what to make for dinner).
• Defaulting to Habits: Automatically picking the easiest or most familiar option rather than weighing better alternatives.

Actually, scratch that—I didn’t tick most of the boxes. I ticked every single one.

The logic is straightforward: you simply get tired of choosing.

Or rather, I am getting tired of choosing. Both the big things and the small things, though I’m not entirely sure which category I’d rather be spared from.

The big decisions are terrifying because they carry weight; they affect more than just me, so I have to be careful. Two of those in a row and I’m not just exhausted—I’m terrified I’ve managed to ruin someone else’s life.

But the small choices are insidious. There are so many of them, firing continuously throughout the day, accumulating into a quiet, relentless tax on my energy.

And at this stage of life—with a little human being depending on me for practically everything—there isn’t going to be a day where I get to opt out. No matter how desperately I wish I could step off the ride for a while.

The good news, supposedly, is that decision fatigue can be reduced. Key word: reduced. There will always be choices to make, but we can theoretically make them less draining:

1. Automate minor choices: Establish tight routines for daily tasks—like planning outfits or meals ahead of time.
2. Tackle big choices early: Reserve high-stakes decisions for the morning when mental energy is fresh.
3. Limit options: Deliberately narrow down choices instead of inspecting every possible scenario.
4. Take breaks: Step away, rest, or delegate when patience and focus start to slip.

The craziest part? I already know all of this.

I try to automate as much of my everyday routine as I can. I take breaks. I guard my morning focus.

And yet, at the end of the day, after doing everything “right,” I still find myself standing in the kitchen, completely paralyzed, desperately wishing someone else would just decide what we’re having for dinner.