The thing about wanting 'it’ too much

Last month, I watched someone talk themselves out of a promotion they actually wanted.

Not because they weren't qualified. Not because they didn't prepare. But because they spent weeks obsessing over every possible way it could go wrong, replaying past rejections, cataloguing all the reasons they weren't "ready enough yet."

By the time the conversation happened, they were so focused on the gap between where they were and where they wanted to be that they couldn't see what they'd already built.

The wanting had become the problem.

The magnifying glass effect

There's something strange that happens when we desperately want something. The more we focus on it, the more aware we become of its absence. That awareness doesn't motivate us, it exhausts us.

The philosopher Alan Watts called this "the backwards law" - the idea that the more you pursue feeling better all the time, the less satisfied you become. The more you try to force confidence, the more aware you are of your insecurity. It's a paradox that's been observed across disciplines, from psychology to Eastern philosophy, because it's so fundamentally human.

Want to be more confident? Suddenly you notice every moment you weren't. Want to be a better leader? Every interaction becomes evidence of how far you have to go. Want work-life balance? You start measuring and finding yourself lacking every single day.

The yearning creates a measuring stick. And we keep hitting ourselves with it.

This is what makes the backwards law so disorienting. We've been taught that clear goals and intense focus lead to results. And often they do. But when it comes to qualities like confidence, presence, authenticity, or calm, the things that can't be manufactured through sheer effort , the pursuit itself becomes counterproductive.

You can't try your way into being relaxed. You can't force yourself into feeling secure. The harder you chase these states, the more you reinforce the belief that you don't have them.

What we miss while we're missing ‘it’

I've noticed something in the people I work with: the ones who are most desperate to change are often the ones who can't see they already are.

They're so busy monitoring the distance to the goal that they miss the movement. They're so aware of what's not there yet that they can't acknowledge what is.

A client once told me, "I'll feel like a real manager when I stop second-guessing myself." But the second-guessing was the evidence that she was taking it seriously. She was waiting to arrive somewhere she'd already reached.

Another example: someone wanting to be "more strategic" spent months criticising themselves for being too tactical, too caught in the weeds. They couldn't see that their deep operational knowledge was precisely what made their strategic insights valuable. The wanting to be different had blinded them to what they already brought.

The identity problem

Here's where it gets even more complicated. There's research in psychology called self-verification theory that helps explain why yearning can actually prevent lasting change.

We all have an internal sense of who we are - our identity. And we unconsciously work to confirm that identity, even when we say we want to change it.

So when you desperately want to be more confident but your identity is "I'm someone who struggles with confidence," every confident behaviour feels false. Inauthentic. Like you're pretending.

Your psyche actually resists the change because it doesn't match who you believe you are.

This is why New Year's resolutions fail. Why people revert to old patterns even after initial success. The behaviour changed, but the identity didn't. And identity always wins in the long run.

The yearning makes this worse. When you're intensely focused on what you lack, you're constantly reinforcing the identity of someone who lacks it. "I need to be more confident" becomes "I am not confident." You're practicing the identity you're trying to leave behind.

Change that lasts doesn't come from behaviour modification alone. It comes from a shift in how you see yourself. And paradoxically, that shift often happens when you stop fighting who you are and start noticing what's already shifting.

When acceptance isn't giving up

Here's where it gets tricky. I'm not suggesting you abandon your goals or stop wanting to grow. That's not what the backwards law points to.

The shift is subtler. It's about moving from "I need to be different than I am" to "I can work with who I am." From fixing a deficit to building on what's there.

When you stop fighting against your current reality, you often find you have more energy to actually work with it. The acceptance isn't resignation - it's the ground you need to stand on to move forward.

This is where identity and behaviour finally align. Instead of trying to become someone else, you're expanding who you already are. The manager who second-guesses herself doesn't need to become someone who never doubts - she needs to recognize that thoughtful leaders question their decisions. That's not a flaw to fix; it's a capacity to build on.

People sometimes confuse this with lowering standards or settling. It's the opposite. It's having enough clarity to see what's actually happening, rather than being lost in the story about what should be happening. And that clarity is what makes sustainable change possible.

The uncomfortable question

This isn't a new problem. Watts wrote about it decades ago. Psychologists see it in their practices. Coaches encounter it constantly. It's woven through ancient wisdom traditions and modern self-help alike.

The pattern is universal. We know what we want, we focus intensely on getting it, and somehow that focus becomes the obstacle.

What if the thing preventing you from having what you want... is how badly you want it?

Not the desire itself. But the grip. The constant measuring. The way yearning trains your attention on the negative space instead of what's actually in front of you.

I'm not suggesting you stop wanting things. I'm asking what becomes visible when you loosen your grip, even for a moment.

What are you yearning for right now? And what has that yearning made you unable to see?