When your boss asks what you want next year — and you don't know

The review was almost over when her boss closed the form and asked an ordinary question: "Where do you want to grow next year?" The room went quiet enough that she could hear the clock on the wall.

"I'd like to learn more," she said. Walking out, she blamed herself for the weak answer. A few steps later she understood that the answer wasn't the problem. The problem was that she really didn't know. Back at her desk, she copied her boss's question onto a sheet of paper and pinned it to the wall.

She went back through her list of finished work. Every line was ticked; everything she'd been given was done, and done well. Then she noticed that none of it was something she had chosen. She was so good at following that she had never needed to ask what she liked. She picked up a pen and marked the tasks that had felt good.

She opened a new file and listed what felt easy, what wore her out, and what she wanted to try. She expected to stare at a blank page. Instead she filled almost two. Still no answer. She saved the file to keep going later.

The work others chose, she did well. The work she chooses starts now.

When did you last ask yourself what you want — without anyone asking first?