I Don’t Always Know What I’m Doing. And That’s Okay.

I’ve reached a point in my life where I’ve accepted that I don’t always know what the hell I’m doing.

And you know what?

It’s going pretty well, considering.

I run businesses. I raise teenagers. I take on projects. I volunteer for things. I come up with ideas that sound perfectly reasonable for approximately seven minutes.

Then, somewhere between making the first phone call and realizing I’ve accidentally volunteered myself for three months of additional responsibilities, I find myself asking a very important question.

Why didn’t I just mind my own damn business?

Seriously.

I could be sitting on my porch. Reading a book. Enjoying a little peace and quiet.

But no.

Somebody mentions a problem, and suddenly I’ve got a notebook out, a plan in the works, and six people expecting me to know what happens next.

Ma’am. You were supposed to be minding your business.

And the funny thing is, half the time I don’t even know what I’m doing.

I’m just reasonably confident I can figure it out.

Which, as it turns out, is both a blessing and a terrible personality trait.

I’ve started businesses without knowing everything there was to know about running them.

I’ve taken on projects that required skills I didn’t have yet.

I’ve agreed to do things and immediately gone home to Google what I had just agreed to.

And motherhood?

Bless your heart if you think there’s an instruction manual for that.

Just when you think you’ve got one stage of parenting figured out, your children grow up and introduce an entirely new set of problems you are wildly unqualified to handle.

Except now they’re taller, have opinions, and occasionally have the audacity to point out when you’re wrong.

Rude.

But somewhere along the way, I’ve realized that most adults are doing a pretty impressive job of pretending they know what’s going on.

We just get better at looking confident while we’re figuring it out.

There’s this expectation that by a certain age, you’re supposed to have your life together.

You’re supposed to know how to handle things.

Make good decisions. Manage your finances. Raise decent humans. Maintain relationships. Build a career. Keep the house running.

And preferably do all of that without looking like you’ve been through the wringer.

Well, honey, I’ve got news.

Some days I’m handling everything like a woman who has her act together.

Other days, I’m standing in the kitchen wondering what I came in there for while mentally reviewing twelve things I forgot to do yesterday.

Balance.

I’ve made mistakes. Plenty of them.

I’ve taken the long way around problems that probably had a much simpler solution.

I’ve confidently announced plans that later turned out to be a spectacular pain in my ass.

And I’ve had more than a few moments when I thought, “Well, that was stupid.”

But I’ve also built things I’m proud of.

I’ve learned skills I never expected to need.

I’ve figured out problems that initially seemed impossible.

And I’ve discovered that being willing to try something new can take you a whole lot further than sitting around waiting to feel qualified.

Now, don’t misunderstand me.

There’s a difference between being willing to learn and being foolish enough to think you know everything.

I have no problem asking questions. Calling somebody who knows more than I do. Admitting I got something wrong.

I may not always enjoy that last one, but I’ll do it.

Eventually.

Maybe after I’ve had a minute to be irritated about it.

The older I get, the more I realize that having everything figured out isn’t really the goal.

Because just about the time you think you’ve mastered something, life comes strolling in with an entirely new situation and says, “Well, let’s see what you do with THIS.”

And there you are.

Back to figuring it out.

I’ve got plenty of things I still want to do. Ideas I haven’t tried. Places I want to go. Projects I want to tackle.

Will I know exactly what I’m doing when I start?

Probably not.

Will I overthink some of it?

Absolutely.

Will I somehow end up with more responsibilities than I originally intended?

Does a Southern woman say “bless your heart” and always mean it kindly?

Exactly.

But I’d rather look back on a life full of things I attempted than a long list of things I talked myself out of because I didn’t feel ready.

So here’s where I’ve landed.

You don’t have to be an expert to be willing to learn.

You don’t have to know every answer to make a good decision.

You don’t have to get everything right the first time.

And you certainly don’t have to have your whole life figured out before you start living it.

Sometimes you just have to roll up your sleeves, use what you know, learn what you don’t, and hope you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew.

And when you inevitably realize you’ve gotten yourself into something again?

Well.

You probably should’ve minded your own business.

But where’s the fun in that?

— Chanda