The signal is in the sound of you. Speaking about a direction that is truly yours, your voice comes alive: it warms, quickens, and sounds like the person you recognize as yourself. Speaking about one that is not, you can hear the flatness, the hedging, the dutiful tone of someone reciting reasons. The questions your voice is answering are identity questions: will this make me happy, will this let me express who I am, is this taking me in a direction that feels like mine? Notice that none of these are questions about logic, money, or obligation; those belong to the mind, and the mind is not where your truth lives.
Overriding this authority usually means deciding silently. You weigh a job offer alone at your desk, build a tidy case for it, and only discover your real answer weeks in, when you hear yourself describing the role to a friend and catch the deadness in your own telling. The other trap is scripting: planning what you will say before you say it, which turns your voice into the mind's puppet. With no motor driving this authority, it is also easy to get lost in the opinions around you and start speaking other people's answers instead of your own.
So build the practice deliberately. Keep one or two trusted listeners whose only job is to let you talk, not to advise; ask them to reflect back what they heard rather than what they think. Speak about the decision more than once, on different days, and notice which answer keeps sounding like you. Recording yourself and listening back works too when no listener is at hand. Then the discipline is simple but real: speak without editing, listen to what you said, and trust it. If there is truth for you in it, there is a way forward, and the ease and pleasure in your own voice will tell you that you have found it.