Last week was a big one in our family. Actually, that's probably understating it. Our son moved house, he also had a huge milestone week at his café, and our daughter moved back to Australia after living in the UK for seven and a half years.
There were boxes, celebrations, airport pickups, happy tears, relieved sighs and more than a few moments where I just sat quietly trying to process it all. And now? I'm exhausted. Not unhappy or stressed. Just emotionally spent.
It got me thinking about the psychology of highly anticipated events and how they affect us afterwards, both personally and in business.
For seven and a half years, our daughter lived in London. When she left, she was 21 years old. A mere baby, really. Straight out of university and off to one of the biggest, busiest, and most intimidating cities in the world. To be fair, we had reasons to worry. There was the small matter of her working as a paramedic during a global pandemic. And before that, there was her first solo overseas trip at 18 when she rang her father from Venice train station in the middle of the night asking whether she should turn left or right to find her hostel. You can imagine our confidence levels.
Of course, she grew up. More than that, she thrived. She built a life, a career, friendships, and experiences that shaped her into an incredibly capable woman. Yet despite all of that, there was always a tiny background hum of alertness within me. Every morning for seven and a half years, I would check my phone first thing to make sure everything was okay.
Every. Single. Morning.
This morning, I didn't have to. She was safely tucked up in bed, just down the hallway. And that's when it hit me. The anticipation had ended. The thing I'd been quietly carrying around for years had finally resolved itself. She was home!
What's interesting is that when something we've been looking forward to finally arrives, we often imagine we'll feel pure joy afterwards. Sometimes we do. But sometimes we just feel flat, tired or emotional. Or all three.
It's a bit like reaching a major business goal. Maybe you've been working towards your first $10,000 month. Or your first $50,000 month. Perhaps you've finally hired that first employee, moved into bigger premises, launched a new service, or paid off a business loan. You spend months, sometimes years, focusing on the destination, then you get there. And suddenly your brain says, "Now what?"
Psychologists sometimes call it the arrival fallacy. The belief that reaching a goal will create lasting happiness. The reality is often different. The achievement feels wonderful, but only briefly. Then our minds immediately start scanning the horizon for the next challenge, the next goal, the next thing to work towards.
I've seen it countless times with business owners. A record revenue month arrives and within days they're worried about whether they can repeat it. A café reaches a major milestone and almost immediately attention turns to the next one. The bookkeeping workload is under control and suddenly we're thinking about the next system, the next improvement, or the next opportunity.
Humans seem to be wired this way. We need things to look forward to. But perhaps we also need something else. Perhaps we need permission to pause, to sit in the achievement and to acknowledge how far we've come. To celebrate before rushing off towards the next mountain.
I found myself thinking about my own parents this week. I spent five years living in London during my twenties while they were on the other side of the world. Unlike today, there were no overnight messages, no mobile phones, and no instant reassurance. There were letters, postcards, and the occasional expensive phone call for proof of life.
How on earth did they cope?
I remember once ringing my dad from thousands of kilometres away to tell him my roof was leaking. I don’t know what I thought he could do to help me, but I needed to hear his reassuring voice.
His response? "Call a plumber, darling." Like mother, like daughter, apparently.
Every generation worries, but maybe every generation learns to let go a little. And maybe every generation discovers that when the thing you've been waiting for finally arrives, there's a strange mix of relief, joy, gratitude, and exhaustion that follows.
So, if you've recently achieved something significant in your business or personal life and you're feeling unexpectedly tired rather than euphoric, you're probably not doing anything wrong. You might simply be coming down from an exceptionally long emotional climb.
Celebrate the win, take the breath, and enjoy the view.
The next goal will still be there tomorrow. For today, it's okay to simply appreciate how far you've already come.
Stay cool and hit the beach!
