What to Do If You’re Second-Guessing Your Taste

Your taste isn’t the problem. Here’s what is.

If you’ve ever second-guessed your taste—same.

“Who am I?” is the question of a lifetime, so maybe let’s not expect ourselves to answer it perfectly every time we buy a rug. We like to make the small choices feel huge when we’re unsure of ourselves. It’s our way of staying safe.

I have a bad habit of shooting down my own ideas the second they smack me between the eyes.

Which is inconvenient, because most of my best ideas arrive this way—clear and bright, sometimes uninvited, and impossible to ignore.

The trouble is, I don’t always recognize them as good. They’re just there. Ordinary. Unremarkable. Easy to come by. Easy to discard.

But lately, I’ve started to wonder—do I have it backward? Should inspiration feel hard? Am I leaning too much on feeling? It’s easy to second-guess the clearest solutions because they don’t feel hard-earned. Some ideas need time to ferment. Others are right upon arrival.

I see this in my own work, in the way my first instincts—so certain, so visceral—get tangled up in doubt the longer I sit with them. Should comparison enter the chat, I’ve strayed beyond help.