Wills, Wishes, and Wants

23 Mar, 2025

I've had numerous conversations recently where I will ask someone if a time estimate on a project looks right. They will often say something along the lines of "I can do that", to which I respond: "ok, but will you?"

I tell them that I fully believe they can do it, but I need to know if it will be done in order to plan out this very complex project we're on with cascading deadlines. I find that this cheeky exchange pushes my more timeblind colleagues to get real with themselves about their schedules and keeps us honest. ¹

The thing about the "will you" is that it's also a commitment. A commitment to me, to themselves, to our shared work. Unlike "can you" which is a speculative question -- a way of feeling out capacity or desire. So in the long tradition of annoying middle school teachers correcting a student who asks "can I go to the bathroom" with "I don't know, can you?" In order to prompt a "may I go to the bathroom", today's post is an exploration of the semantics of wills, wishes and wants. Put another way, today's post is about the way that we commit and dream, the distance between those 2 things, and the ways we communicate to each other about those things.

Today I will play with these w words on a spectrum. Let's start with Wish:

Over the past few years I've grown fond of the phrase "I do not wish to" as a [melodramatic] way of saying that I don't want to do something. What I like the most about it (other than the drama, and the man I picked it up from) is that it's extremely clear while also being flexible. "I do not wish to" does not firmly mean "I won't" but it does mean that, left to my own devices and my own best outcomes, I would not. It captures the reality that if I do it, I am compromising.

What I also love about it, is that it keeps fantasy [read: dreaming] in the picture of every no. To wish is to dream. If I do not "wish to" take out the trash today, it opens a door to wonder what it is I do wish for. While not meaningfully different from "I don't wanna", it doesn't read like complaining in quite the same way. It centers my sweet nothings, my dreams, more than my complaints.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is Will:

Will you marry me? I will finish by Friday. Would you buy a duplex with me? I would. Ok great yay, but will we buy one?

Will is us exercising our will -- we choose and we enact. Or at the very least, we commit to trying. Similarly "I won't" stands in contrast to "I don't wish to" in that it's a firm, inflexible answer. Where wants, wishes, and even woulds explore and hedge, will doesn't. Will is a word that sticks the landing and then moves.

How often do you make firm asks? How often do you make or give firm rejections? I have often found that far before it's time for a "will you?" is a "what if we?" The space of fantasy is fun, connective, generative and helps move towards consensus organically. Many people struggle to be in that realm and many people struggle to leave it.

I still struggle with just how accountable I think we are to our fantasies and to the people we hurt when we change course. It's too easy to say that the other can't be upset since we never "committed to anything", at the same time, if no one ever felt emboldened to assert their will, how would we have ever made the shift into commitment consensually together?

I will continue to experiment with the language that makes my intent clearest, with the words that keep me honest to where I am, and with proposals that ebb and flow between fantasy and enactment. Our feelings and our commitments are not the same ², and how we show up to both in our relationships matter. Every year, I get a little better at finding the right time to move from wish to will.