Saying Yes Before You Know How: Navigating Uncertainty in Big Life Decisions
When my dad passed away in December 2014, I faced a life-changing decision—what to do with my childhood home. It wasn’t just a house; it was a 1939 dollhouse in Toluca Lake, Los Angeles, steeped in memories and history.
At the time, my husband Mike and I were living in San Diego, happily settled with a thriving life, great friends, and no plans to move to LA.
But homeownership in Southern California was daunting. With homes ranging from $750,000 to $850,000 in 2014, affording a place of our own wasn’t even on our radar.
The reality of this inheritance, however, meant confronting not just financial decisions but also the deep emotional weight of loss. As an only child who had lost both parents within 18 months—my mom in June 2013, my dad in December 2014—I was navigating grief, responsibility, and uncertainty all at once.
The decision boiled down to three options:
- Rent out the house (but first, we’d need to sort through 40 years of memories and belongings).
- Sell it (which would barely give us enough to buy a small condo in an "up-and-coming" neighborhood).
- Move in and make it our own.
None of these options felt easy. None of them felt quite right. So, we did what any grief-stricken couple would do—we escaped to Costa Rica for some much-needed distance and clarity.
The Moment Everything Changed
There we were, poolside, drinks in hand, staring at a decision we weren’t ready to make. Several beers and frozen cocktails later, Mike and I looked at each other and said, "F*ck it. Let’s do it."
We didn’t have a plan. We didn’t have all the answers. But we had a gut feeling that this was the right move.
The Messy Beginnings
The early days were overwhelming. I slept on an air mattress, unwilling to leave the space that still held so many memories. When our movers arrived with all our belongings from San Diego, there was nowhere to put anything. The living room turned into a maze of cardboard boxes, oversized furniture, and emotions I wasn’t yet ready to unpack.
My parents, having lived through the Great Depression, saved everything—historic newspapers, trinkets that "might be worth something someday," and sentimental keepsakes. Every item I touched carried a story, a piece of them that I wasn’t sure I was ready to let go of.
One moment stands out. While I was on a call, Mike cleared out an entire closet full of my mom’s clothes. When I saw the empty space, I panicked, insisting he retrieve everything from the consignment store immediately. Those clothes were the last things that smelled like her. I still have my dad’s motorcycle jacket for the same reason—some things, you just aren’t ready to part with.
The Lessons That Emerged
Through the chaos, grief, and uncertainty, I learned some powerful truths about making big decisions:
The "how" reveals itself after committing to the "why." We didn’t know how we’d make it work, but we knew why we were saying yes.
What looks like chaos often masks the seeds of transformation. In the middle of grief and overwhelm, a new chapter was already taking shape.
Sometimes, the bravest move is trusting yourself enough to begin. Waiting until you have it all figured out means you’ll never start. The most meaningful journeys rarely come with an instruction manual.
Growth happens in the space between what was and what could be.
A Decade Later
Now, ten years later, I’m writing this from that same house—though it’s nearly unrecognizable from those early days. Not because we had a perfect plan, not because we knew what we were doing, but because we had the courage to start.
If you’re facing your own transformative decision—whether in life, business, or personal growth—remember this:
The path forward rarely appears until after you take the first step. Your "why" is enough to begin.
What’s a leap you took before knowing exactly how it would work? Drop it in the comments below—I’d love to hear your story.
If you’re facing your own transformative decision—whether in life, business, or personal growth—remember this:
The path forward rarely appears until after you take the first step. Your "why" is enough to begin.
What’s a leap you took before knowing exactly how it would work? Drop it in the comments below—I’d love to hear your story.
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