We’ve all been there – standing in a room, looking at the wallpaper, and realizing with a sinking gut feeling that we don’t recognize a single thing about where we’ve landed.
I’ve shared this sentiment before because it’s one of those truths that bears repeating: It is better to admit you walked through the wrong door than to spend your entire life in the wrong room.
It sounds simple on paper, doesn’t it? Just turn around. But in reality, that door behind us often feels like it’s been welded shut by our own pride, or maybe by the sheer amount of time we spent trying to pick the lock to get in. We treat our past decisions like permanent tattoos rather than temporary directions. We stay in the wrong careers, the stagnant relationships, or the outdated versions of ourselves simply because we already unpacked our bags.
There is a specific kind of bravery required to be the person who says, “I was wrong about this.” We live in a culture that obsesses over “finishing what you started” and “sticking it out.” While grit has its place, there is a very fine line between perseverance and self-delusion.
If you’re climbing a ladder that’s leaning against the wrong wall, it doesn’t matter how fast you climb; you’re still going to end up in the wrong place.
Think about the “Sunk Cost Fallacy.” It’s that nagging voice telling you that because you’ve already spent five years or five thousand dollars on something, you have to keep going. But those five years are gone regardless of what you do next. The only thing you can control is whether you waste the next five years. Admitting you walked through the wrong door isn’t a failure of character; it’s an act of massive self-respect. It’s an acknowledgement that your future is worth more than the preservation of a mistake.
The moment you stop trying to decorate a room you hate is the moment you become free to find the one where you actually belong. It’s messy to leave. People might stare as you walk back out into the hallway. You might feel a little foolish standing there with your map turned upside down.
But that temporary embarrassment is a small price to pay for a life that actually fits.
The exit sign is rarely as scary as the prospect of sitting in that wrong room until the lights go out. So, if you’re looking around today and realizing the view isn’t what you hoped for, remember that you aren’t stuck. The door you came in through is still there. You’re allowed to use it.
Kenrick Vaz 