When I moved back to Minneapolis and caught the first glimpse of the skyline from 35W, I couldn’t stop myself from tearing up. Working downtown and living the big city life was always the goal, and I was actually doing it!
That feeling of accomplishment lasted maybe two days.
I had waited my whole life for…48 hours of satisfaction? How could that possibly be fair/normal/okay?!
I’ve achieved a lot of #lifegoals and big dreams in the last year. I graduated college, earned hands-on experience as an intern at The Walt Disney Company, and started my first big girl (full-time, salaried) job — just to name a few.
But after every surreal, satisfying, overwhelming, fulfilling, goal-reaching moment came the “huh.” The anticlimactic (dare I say, disappointing?) moment when the feeling of achievement wears off.
I. Hate. It.
It reminds me that it’s more about the journey than the destination (cliché alert!). The thing is, though, I get so caught up in the goal that I forget to enjoy the time it takes to get there. I am the kind of person who collects regret like stamps — except there’s never a return on investment with regret! When I realize how much I’ve “missed out” on, it eats away at me.
New goals help me to suppress those feelings and suddenly I find myself in the midst of a hustle again. Clearly, this is not the most healthy cycle.
But I’m working on it. I’m trying to rein in my goal-oriented personality and live in the moment for a hot second. The first step is scooting out of denial, right?