Life Is a Choice

(Introduction: Making life choices is never easy, weather they are small daily decisions or major turning points that shape our future. In this article, I share personal stories about my sons navigating tough decisons)

Are you a good decision-maker, or do you suffer from decidophobia? Every day, we face countless choices—small ones, like what to eat for dinner or what to wear to work, and bigger ones that can influence the direction of our lives. Even writing this speech involved making a decision about the topic! But today, I want to share two stories about important decisions my sons, Ben and Owen, recently faced.

Let’s start with Owen, my younger son. Yesterday, he had to make what felt like the most difficult decision of his life so far. Owen is in grade 11, enrolled in the French Immersion IB program. At the beginning of this semester, he started struggling with high-level math—commonly referred to as HL math. If you’ve heard of the IB program, you’ll know it’s rigorous, requiring students to devote significant time and effort to their studies.

Later, I learned through a WeChat group that HL math is one of the toughest subjects, known to have caused many IB students to drop out of the program. Only those with an exceptionally strong foundation in math tend to succeed. Unfortunately, we didn’t know this when Owen registered for four HL subjects, including HL math.

Because Owen had always done well in school, he had high expectations for himself. But his first exam was a wake-up call—he scored only 20%. Determined to improve, he poured all his energy into the course, often staying up until midnight, and sometimes even until 2 or 3 a.m. His exhaustion became obvious, and I grew increasingly concerned. I worried that the lack of sleep would take a toll on his health.

When I learned that Owen could drop HL math without any negative consequences—as long as he did so before the deadline—I immediately suggested that he take this option. But to my surprise, he resisted. He insisted he could manage, even as he looked more and more burdened.

As parents, the choice seemed clear to us: his health was more important than struggling with one difficult subject. We tried to convince him that stepping back sometimes isn’t a sign of failure but a necessary act of self-care. However, Owen saw things differently. In his mind, dropping the course felt like giving up, and that feeling was hard for him to accept.

The night before the deadline, he sat at the table, looking distressed. When I approached him, he said, “Mom, I won’t be happy if I drop this course.” He listed several opportunities he believed he’d lose, and then added, “In the future, whenever I think about this, it will give me pain.”

I empathized with him and replied, “Honey, I understand how you feel. But every decision comes with trade-offs. When you choose one path, you naturally leave another behind. That’s just life.”

That night, after Owen went to bed, I found myself reflecting on another tough decision made earlier this year—this time by his older brother, Ben.

Ben has a passion for electronic music composition since he was . When he discovered that the University of Toronto offered a music composition program, he was thrilled and applied to it as his first choice. He was accepted, and at first, he was excited.

However, after speaking with graduates in the field, he began to hesitate. The job market for music majors isn’t exactly promising. Doubts crept in, and he started questioning his decision. At one point, he even said, “Mom, you don’t need to go to university to learn music. You can just teach yourself. I’m going to study business and keep music as a hobby.”

His sudden change of heart worried me. While the job market was a valid concern, I was more focused on whether he had the passion and determination to follow his dream. I knew that passion and perseverance were key ingredients to success—no matter what career he pursued.

Ultimately, my husband and I encouraged him to give it a try for one year. We helped him weigh the consequences of his choice while offering guidance about future career options. With our support, the decision became easier for him, and today, he’s a student in U of T’s music program.

Watching my sons navigate these decisions reminded me that the choices we make as parents may not always be perfect. They are shaped by our values and priorities. For Owen, we valued his well-being and took a long-term perspective. For Bennett, we prioritized his passion, believing happiness comes from doing what you love.

As I wrote this speech, Bennett sat beside me, composing music on his computer. I could tell he was struggling with a piece—it clearly wasn’t easy—but he started first thing in the morning and stuck with it all day. That’s passion!

Looking at his focused expression, I couldn’t help but wonder what his future holds. Then, a well-known line from Robert Frost’s poem came to mind:

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

Yes, life is a journey shaped by the choices we make. When we choose one road, we also choose the scenery—good or bad—that comes with it. And that, my friends, is what makes life so interesting.

Life is a choice, after all!