Spoiler warning: this reflection includes major plot details from the novel. If you haven’t read the book yet and want to go in blind (which I recommend), maybe save this post for later.
Reading Dark Matter felt like falling down a rabbit hole I didn’t even realize I’d entered. One moment I thought I knew what the story was about, and then—bam—a twist hit me so hard I actually said out loud, “Of course! It was right there the whole time.” I completely missed it, even though it now feels so obvious.
But maybe that’s the point.
Dark Matter is a sci-fi thriller, but more than that, it’s a quietly devastating reflection on choice and identity—and the infinite possibilities we leave behind each time we choose one path over another.
A Quick Recap
Jason Dessen is a physics professor, living a quiet life with his wife and teenage son. One night, he’s abducted and wakes up in a different version of his life—a world where he never married, never had a child, and instead pursued a groundbreaking scientific career.
This isn’t a dream. This is quantum theory come to life. Every decision you make branches off into a different universe. And now, Jason wants to find his way back to the world—and the family—he left behind.
The Conversation That Stuck with Me
I talked to my daughter about the book (she hasn’t read it), and for days afterward, she kept saying things like, “Mum, maybe there’s a version of me somewhere who didn’t make that choice…” She’s seventeen, and not into sci-fi at all, but she was hooked. She even watched the Apple TV adaptation.
That’s when it hit me: this book connects with everyone. Even a teenager who thinks quantum physics sounds like torture. Because at its core, Dark Matter is about something we all understand—what if?
The Weight of Our Decisions
Reading Dark Matter made me reflect on my own choices. What if I never moved to Canada? What if I pursued a different dream? What is that version of me doing right now? Is she more confident? Happier? More fulfilled?
And here’s the thing: some of those paths aren’t even about what I chose. What if I had grown up in a household with both parents? That’s not a decision I made—but it shaped me all the same.
We like to believe we’re in control, that our lives are a result of our decisions. But so much of who we become is shaped by the people around us—their choices, their mistakes, their love, their absence.
One Small "No"
There’s a moment in the book when you realize that one version of Jason said “no” to something. Just one choice. One small refusal. And it changes his entire trajectory. In one world, he becomes a famous scientist. In another, he’s a husband and father. In yet another… well, let’s just say things get bloody.
And I kept thinking: What choice did he make to become that version of himself? How far off are we, really, from becoming someone we no longer recognize?
Are they even his own decisions that led him there—or someone else’s? A parent? A partner? A stranger? Do you see how interconnected we are? Our decisions don’t just affect us. They ripple outward. One single moment of choice can shape a loved one’s entire life.
That’s huge.
The Unanswerable Question
The book poses a question it never quite answers: How do we choose?
How do we ever know if we’re making the right decision?
Do we say yes to ambition or yes to intimacy?
Do we chase potential or protect stability?
Do we build a family, knowing that it might mean delaying — or even abandoning — parts of ourselves we also want to grow?
And what happens if we get it wrong?
But here’s what stayed with me: maybe I don’t have to carry the burden of every possibility. Maybe every version of me is still out there, walking the other path. Even if I say yes to this life, there’s a version of me that said no. She exists too. She’s still me.
There’s something strangely comforting in that.
Somewhere, I’m living all the lives I ever wondered about.
And maybe that means no version of me is ever truly lost.
After I Closed the Book
I’ve been thinking more about my decisions ever since I read Dark Matter. Every time I hesitate before making a choice, I wonder: Is there a version of me taking the other path? Probably. And yeah, I know—it’s fiction. Quantum theory stretched into thriller territory.
But still.
What if?