Why Chasing Happiness Keeps You Unhappy
When was the last time you said to yourself: I'll be happy when ...
Maybe it was landing a promotion, buying a house or finally finding the right partner. For a brief moment the finish line glowed like a neon promise. But, once you finally crossed it, the glow faded. For a while you might have been happy, but a few weeks later, the surge of joy suddenly went missing. At that point, you might even already find yourself chasing the next thing to finally make you happy.
But why does it never last? That's what this article is all about. I'll uncover the hidden mechanisms behind this phenomenon and share what to do instead to actually achieve lasting happiness.
The Happiness Mirage
So what is happiness anyway? Philosophers debate it, psychologists measure it on sliding scales and each of us feels it a little differently. Yet one story consistently drowns out the nuance, especially in Western culture. We're taught that happiness sits on top of a pyramid of achievements: earn more, look better, own bigger, post prettier. Scroll any feed and the formula seems obvious: six-figure salary, sculpted abs, picture-perfect family photo—instant bliss.
The problem? That formula isn't built for humans. It's built for perpetual motion. Each achievement delivers a spike of excitement, then quickly normalizes. The moment the high fades, the cultural script pushes you to aim even higher. We start comparing, doubting, hustling, burning out—all while assuming the next rung will finally feel different.
To understand why the glow fades so fast, we need to look at a sneaky mental glitch that drives this cycle. It's called arrival fallacy and it tricks us into believing the finish line is where happiness lives. Let's unpack what it is, how it shows up in real life and what the science says about escaping its grip.
What is the Arrival Fallacy?
The arrival fallacy is the belief that achieving a specific goal or milestone will bring you lasting happiness. It's that "I'll finally be happy when I ..." mindset. When I land my dream job, find the perfect partner, buy a house, you name it. Psychologist Tal Ben-Shahar coined the term to show how that promise rarely delivers. Hitting a goal does feel great, but the high fades quickly.
To give you an example, a couple of years ago I was aiming for a long-awaited promotion. That feeling when I finally got it was overwhelming. I felt as if I had achieved everything in life and from here on all other plans will just magically fall into place.
I rode the buzz for two or maybe three weeks before Monday suddenly felt like ... well, Monday again. And before I even realized, I had a new target and the chase started all over.
Of course, accomplishing a goal does feel good at first. There's often a rush of excitement and satisfaction. You might enjoy a sense of achievement for a short time. The problem isn't the goal itself. The problem is assuming that the achievement alone will deliver enduring fulfillment. In my case, I expected that promotion to fundamentally change how I felt long-term. It didn't. The joy was more short-lived than I had imagined and very quickly became my new baseline. And that's exactly what the arrival fallacy sets us up for: a cycle where we achieve something, enjoy a brief high and then discover that life soon returns to normal.
Why We Keep Falling for It
Alright, but if the arrival fallacy is practically common knowledge, why do we still stumble into it again and again?
Well, first of all, culture primes us. From childhood we're told that the right milestones—salary bands, square footage, picture-perfect relationships—unlock lifelong contentment. Those messages sink in so deeply that our own values often take a back seat to the résumé we think we're supposed to build.
Second, we slip into outcome tunnel-vision. The journey becomes something to endure, not enjoy, so even a major win can't offset months (or years) of grind. As soon as the confetti settles, the day-to-day feels ordinary again and we start scanning the horizon for another finish line.
Finally, there's what psychologists call impact bias: humans systematically overestimate both the intensity and the duration of future emotions. Studies on lottery winners, tenured professors and newlyweds all show the same pattern. We predict a permanent glow, but everyday stresses and new desires crowd that feeling out faster than we'd ever guess.
Put together, these forces create a hamster wheel: achieve, adapt, feel empty, repeat. To understand why the glow fades so fast, we need to examine the mind's built-in mechanic that resets our mood no matter how high we climb. That phenomenon is called hedonic adaptation.
Hedonic Adaptation: The Built-In Reset Button
So why doesn't the glow from our wins stick around? Happiness science points to hedonic adaptation—our mind's habit of normalizing anything new. Human beings are incredibly good at adapting to new circumstances, both good and bad. That talent keeps us resilient in hard times, but it also shrinks the thrill of a positive change until it feels ordinary. Psychologists liken it to a treadmill: you run hard, yet emotionally you stay in the same place.
The following graphic by @thehellyeahgroup illustrates this perfectly:
I'm sure you've experienced this yourself. A new car feels luxurious for a few weeks, six months later it's just how you commute. That new apartment is beyond exciting, but eventually becomes your day-to-day reality.
Research shows the same pattern with huge life events. In a classic study, lottery winners and accident survivors reported nearly identical happiness levels one year after their life-changing moments. We consistently overestimate how long big gains will keep us elated and underestimate how fast we recalibrate.
Consider that dream job. The first paychecks sparkle, the title sounds delicious, but routines creep in, office politics surface and the salary becomes baseline. The excitement fades because you've adapted to your achievement. Your brain now craves the next novelty, nudging you back to the arrival fallacy: Maybe the next promotion will finally do it.
Understanding this reset mechanism matters, because it explains why chasing ever-bigger milestones rarely delivers lasting satisfaction—and sets the stage for how we can choose fulfillment instead of another round on the treadmill.
Seek Fulfillment, Not Happiness
Happiness rarely shows up when you treat it like a prize. Instead it tends to sneak in as a by-product of a life that already feels meaningful. I call that feeling fulfillment and it appears at the crossroads of three things: living by your values, seeing genuine progress and staying present enough to enjoy both.
When those three overlap, the ordinary Tuesday begins to feel rich on its own terms. You don't need to wait for the promotion party or the finish-line photo to give yourself permission to feel good—you're already living in a way that produces small but steady hits of satisfaction.
This isn't just feel-good philosophy. Decades of research on Self-Determination Theory show that well-being spikes when people experience autonomy (living by their values), competence (making progress) and relatedness (being present with others).
In other words, fulfillment isn't vague—it's measurable and trainable.
So instead of asking whether something makes you happy, instead ask yourself if it honour your values, move you forward and let's you be present. The more often you can answer "yes" to all three, the more reliably happiness will tag along—without needing to be chased.
Enjoy the Journey, Not the Destination
Most of us treat a goal like a train ticket: grit your teeth through the ride and everything will be perfect when you arrive. But the data say the ride itself shapes how you feel later. Harvard researcher Teresa Amabile sifted through 12,000 work-day diaries and discovered a clear winner for daily motivation and joy: making progress. Even if it's just a small win. One small step forward lifts morale more than any pep talk.
So how do you harness that? Trade outcome fixation for process goals you can celebrate today. Dream of publishing a novel? Commit to 500 words before breakfast. Eyeing a marathon medal? Nail today's three-mile loop. Trying to declutter? Clear one drawer, not the whole house.
Each finished micro-task dings the brain's reward circuit, drops a bit of dopamine and reinforces the habit. Suddenly you're getting regular hits of satisfaction instead of waiting for a someday payoff. The destination still matters—but the journey finally feels like living, not just commuting.
Anchor Yourself in Gratitude
Progress is powerful, but it's even sweeter when you notice what's already good. Therefore, I finish each evening with a simple ritual: I open my journal and jot down three moments I'm grateful for. We're talking simple things like the smell of rain on my run, my wife bringing me tea or a good conversation with a close friend. It takes barely a minute, yet it flips my attention from what's missing to what's working.
The research backs up the feeling. Studies from UC Davis and the Greater Good Science Center link daily gratitude to higher life satisfaction, better sleep and more resilience under stress. The mechanism is straightforward: every written thank-you nudges your brain to scan for positives, rewiring the default setting from scarcity to abundance. Over time, that practice makes today feel rewarding instead of merely preparatory for some future win.
Because this habit has changed my life, I'm building a small tool to make it even easier. Dankbar lets you log moments in seconds, then uses AI to nudge you—think reminders to thank a friend you keep mentioning or a weekly highlight reel of your best notes.
It's not public yet, but the beta release is around the corner. Subscribe to my newsletter for first access and behind-the-scenes updates.
Conclusion
Happiness isn't waiting at some distant finish line—it's woven into the miles you walk every day. When you align actions with your values, track small wins and pause to notice what's already good, fulfillment shows up now instead of someday. Each intentional step dismantles the arrival fallacy and keeps hedonic adaptation in check, turning progress itself into a source of joy. Keep aiming high, but let every mile along the way count as part of the reward.