In the data and tech world from which I come we often talked about the problem of ‘technical debt’. That means, ongoing effects from decisions made in an early stage of a development process – for example an interface or architecture design that drives how you work and what is possible as your system evolves.

Early decisions can become limiting over time and may prompt tech teams to rethink and course correct. But overcoming technical debt can be difficult. It often means forfeiting short term wins, having to do rework or delaying deliverables.

I think the same problem can occur on a more personal front. Sometimes we feel we’ve taken a direction that was right at the time but no longer is. Changing direction later can be a hard choice to make. To many of us, doing so feels like admitting that our earlier decision was wrong.

A client once told me that for several years she had been helping a relative who was dealing with an illness. It was the right thing to do at the time. But eventually her own situation changed and she could no longer afford the time. When she finally stepped back she said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have helped in the first place.”

In many cases, doubting the merit of earlier decisions is misleading. They were often perfectly reasonable. They reflected the priorities, knowledge, and ambitions of the person you were at that time.

The real tension usually comes from something else: the feeling that we owe loyalty to that earlier version of ourselves.

When Decisions Become Identity

Over time, our choices accumulate meaning, perhaps even form habits. A career path or a business becomes something we have invested years of effort into. A role in a family or organisation becomes an expectation that others now rely on.

Walking away from such situations can feel less like making a new decision and more like invalidating the old one. People often stay longer than they truly want to because leaving feels as if it would erase everything that came before.

In discussions, this tension often shows up in one simple sentence: “I’ve already spent so many years on this.”

What usually follows is a list of reasons to continue — qualifications earned, effort invested, reputation built, and expectations created. All real of course. But also: all belonging to the past.

The Emotional Weight of “Wasted” Effort

Psychologists describe a pattern known as the sunk cost fallacy: the tendency to keep investing in something simply because we have already invested so much. The bias shows up in financial decisions, but it appears just as often in careers, businesses, and relationships.

There is, however, another layer that makes the decision harder. The investment is not only about time, money, or effort. It is also about identity.

If a particular choice once defined who you were, changing direction can feel like rejecting that earlier self.

To add a personal example: It was for that very reason that it took me years to decide not to pursue a career in law.

That feeling creates a subtle internal pressure — the belief that stopping would mean the earlier decision must have been a mistake.

Yet in many cases the opposite is true. The earlier decision may have been exactly right for the person you were then. It may have given you skills you still use today. It may have opened doors that shaped the opportunities now available to you.

Seen from that perspective, the decision did what it needed to do.

Moving Forward Without Invalidating the Past

One way to allow ourselves to see past decisions more clearly is to recognise that they were responses to the circumstances and priorities we had at the time.

At that moment, the choice may well have been the most reasonable one available to us. It reflected who we were, what we knew, and what mattered then.

But decisions are made at a particular moment. The person making them continues to evolve, and so do the situations they were responding to.

Seen this way, the question is not whether the earlier choice was right or wrong. It’s simply about what the best choice is today.

Honouring a past decision does not require continuing it forever.

Once that’s clear, our focus can move to the present. As you read this, what past decision do you recall that you had to reconsider, and how did it make you feel?