I’ve never really struggled with making decisions. Usually I can make a decision almost instantly. I’m more of a go with your gut instinct rather than deliberating for days on end. This largely applies to anything from a new skirt to a new flat, my gut instinct is basically what I go with, and for the most part, it’s always been right. This isn’t a family trait. My older sister despises making decisions. The process requires a great deal of though and contemplation and more often that not several days. Anything that requires her making a decision, even for lunch, is my idea of a total nightmare. 

            But decision-making is almost never something you do alone. Buying a skirt will almost always be done with one of my girlfriends. Or even if you’re shopping alone, the nod of approval from an over enthusiastic sales assistant can aid your ‘to buy or not to buy’ dilemma. Choosing a flat is rarely done alone, and requires the mirrored excitement of your future flatmates before signing on the dotting line. Even seeing a particularly satisfied customer in front of you in Starbucks can sway ones ‘latte or Americano’ deliberation.

            So what happens when it comes to making a decision that people don’t seem to agree with? I’m no longer talking about trivial decisions such as that questionable pair of Zara culottes that the girls simply don’t like, or choosing a wrap after the girl in Pret says the soup is her favourite. How do you deal with making a life decision that you’re really keen on when everyone around you appears dead against it? I say this because that was exactly the situation I found myself in when I was offered this position in Dubai. Aside from my best friend Pippa, who was practically packing my bikinis for me, the majority of my family and closest friends were either against it or simply thought it was a bad idea. Even now I’m yet to hear a congratulations from several of them.

            Rather than being encouraging and excited for me, something I can say with confidence I would have been had the roles been reversed, I was greeted with reasons not to go, horror stories about expats in the UAE, or simply told it was ‘a lot to take in’. I took this in two parts. Firstly I recognised the element of concern. It is, I’m told, a big transition to move to Dubai as a 21-year-old English blonde girl. Because of course that was something I didn’t know. But I also felt an element of selfishness amongst the concern. I was doing something that defied the status quo, that wasn’t what everyone had expected me to do and apparently wasn’t what they wanted me to do either. But I’ve been blessed to grow up and believe I can do and achieve anything. And that’s exactly what I plan to do.

            Nonetheless, when you have the voices of your most trusted circle all thinking it’s a bad idea; it has to make you question things. And that I was. Where I had been so sure of every decision I had made previously, this one, arguably the biggest I’d ever had to make, had me stalling. Maybe I couldn’t hack it? Maybe it was wrong for me? Maybe I was better to stay and work in London? Maybe I should just come home for a while? I shivered at that one. Not that there’s anything wrong with home. I love where I’m from and coming home to it is the most comforting thing on earth. For a week or two. But finishing Uni and just moving back home was not an option to me. I couldn’t think of anything worse. I would sooner last two days in Dubai than never have tried because returning home was the safer option.

            So I found myself in a new situation. Where I was making a decision that people close to me didn’t necessarily agree with, but I knew I had to do it anyway. So this is my little piece of advice from this post, the lesson learned per se: 

Rather than let other people’s negativity stop you from doing something, appreciate their concern, and channel their negativity into driving your determination to prove them wrong.