When I was traveling in South America a few years ago, I came upon a point in my trip where I had make a crucial decision that could affect the rest of my experience. I needed to decide if to continue onwards to visit a new country as part of another leg on my journey, and if to do so on my own, or I could choose to continue with the same friends I had been traveling with for the past few months, and go with them to the city they were heading to. Their plan was to take a long bus ride to their next destination, planning to take it easy since they weren’t in any rush to get anywhere. But I was in a different mindset where I did not want to waste my time so long as I had the hunger to see more places, but I also felt that leaving my friends to travel alone was really nerve-wracking and I didn’t know if to go on my own was right for me… I was questioning what choice was more right to make — to go and tag along with my friends, to travel alone to somewhere new, or maybe to even just call it quits and come home since feelings of home-sickness started to appear around that time. These questions bugged me for at least a week when I was trying to figure out what to do, because every option I had open was a good option, where they all had benefits that were worth taking. But that’s what actually made it more difficult for me because I was scared I might choose the wrong one and not the one with the most benefits total. I ended up feeling so frustrated with having to make a decision on my own, that I ended up just calling my dad and asking him to make the decision for me. He chose for me to leave my friends and take a flight on my own to travel in Columbia, to go traveling alone hoping to meet new people. Until this day I’m not sure if it was the right decision or the best decision I could have made at the time, but so long as I wasn’t the one to actually “make” the decision it doesn’t feel like I have myself to blame.