We can want two things.
It happens all the time.
When we choose to bury one,
It changes.
It gains power.
It becomes “what we want deep down."

—

I feel a lot of pressure to only want one thing.
"I need to get clear on what I want."
"I need to figure out what I really want."

But I believe it's possible to want two contradictory things—and I believe that's OK. That's natural.

I feel pressure to be consistent.
I need to unify all the aspects of myself that pull in different directions.
I need to "see through" the voices and find my "true self."

But there are different versions of me; different aspects of myself that have different needs and argue different points. And they exist as much as the narrator writing this right now.

I can, for example, want someone I love to run free. I can want what's best for them. I can want them to go out and grow and find all the joy the world has to offer—even if it means moving away from me.

And at the same time, I can want to hold onto them as tightly as humanly possible—even if it means holding them back from their dreams.

Both those wants are real—both the beautiful and the ugly. I can’t simply declare which represents "what I truly want." If I do that, and I dismiss the other, the neglected one will linger and gain strength in secret. It will quietly argue its point in the background of my mind—telling me I'm lying about what I want, that I'm not who I'm pretending to be.

So I don't have to choose which of my wants are real.
I simply have to choose which one to honour.
I choose which voice to indulge. And I tell the other, “I see you, but not today.”

—

"Which wolf wins?"
"The one you feed. And the one you pretend not to see."