TessaReneeI make the calls, not because I crave control, but because someone has to decide what happens next. And when you’re the one paying attention, the decisions quietly land with you. Not ceremoniously. Not officially. Just by default.
At some point, I noticed that pauses waited for me to fill them. Questions lingered until I answered them. Situations stayed unresolved until I stepped in and chose a direction. I wasn’t appointed. I wasn’t consulted. I just became the one who moved things forward because no one else was doing it.
Making the calls doesn’t feel powerful. It feels heavy. It means knowing that if something goes wrong, it traces back to you. If something works, it’s expected. There’s very little neutrality in being the decider. Every choice carries weight, even the quiet ones.
What surprised me most was how invisible this role became. People assume decisions just happen. That things naturally progress. They don’t see the internal calculus. The weighing of options. The consideration of consequences. The awareness of who will be affected by which choice. All of that happens quietly, long before anything changes externally.
I noticed how often I delayed making calls, not because I was unsure, but because I was tired of being the one to decide. I wanted someone else to step in. To share the load. To say, “Here’s what we’re doing.” But that moment rarely came. And waiting only prolonged the tension.
Making the calls also meant living with the aftermath. There’s no clean handoff. You don’t just decide and walk away. You manage responses. You absorb reactions. You hold space for discomfort that follows clarity. And you do it while keeping things functional.
Being the main character, unfortunately, means that indecision doesn’t protect you. It just keeps you suspended. The responsibility doesn’t disappear because you avoid choosing. It waits. And eventually, it presses harder.
I realized that making the calls wasn’t about being right. It was about being willing. Willing to accept that clarity doesn’t come with consensus. Willing to move forward even when others would prefer things stay unresolved because unresolved feels easier than changed.
There’s a loneliness in being the one who decides. Not because others don’t care, but because they don’t carry the same level of awareness. They don’t feel the friction the same way. They aren’t the ones lying awake thinking through outcomes. That distance makes the role isolating, even when you’re surrounded by people.
I’ve also learned that making the calls doesn’t mean making all of them. Some decisions I’ve been handling weren’t actually mine to own. I inherited them because I was capable. Because I was available. Because I didn’t say no early enough. Learning to differentiate has been part of reclaiming myself.
I make the calls now with more intention. Not out of obligation, but out of clarity. I don’t rush them. I don’t dramatize them. I decide when staying undecided costs more than choosing.
Being the one who makes the calls doesn’t mean I have to run everything. It means I get to decide what I’m actually responsible for and what I’m no longer willing to carry.
Main character, unfortunately, means the story waits for you to move it forward. And when it does, you learn that deciding isn’t about dominance or control. It’s about ownership.
I make the calls because someone has to. But I’m also learning that I get to choose which calls are mine to make.
Final Thought
Decision-making isn’t power.
It’s responsibility.
And you’re allowed to choose where that responsibility ends.
Disclaimer
Main Character, Unfortunately reflects personal reflection and lived experience. It’s not professional advice or a substitute for therapy or clinical guidance. Take what resonates. Leave what doesn’t.
TessaRenee