The Arrival Fallacy

We spend years building the life we believe will make us happy. What happens when we finally get it—and discover that something is missing? Psychologists call this “The Arrival Fallacy.” It refers to the belief that reaching the next goal will finally produce the happiness we’ve been seeking.

In this excerpt from “A Silence That Moves,” Linda appears to have created the life she once wanted. During the first psychotherapy session, however, her practices explanations begin to slip, revealing a truth she has struggled to admit to herself.

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“I was talking to some of my friends at the club. They said they had seen a psychologist and thought it was worthwhile. I decided, what the heck. I have plenty of time on my hands and nothing better to do, so I looked in the paper and saw you had just opened a practice.”

I settled back in my seat, finally beginning to relax. “I’m glad you did. As it happens, you’re my very first client here, so welcome.”

She smiled but said nothing.

I started to stiffen. I said, possibly a little too soon, “I’m looking forward to getting to know you. How about telling me something about your life? Who is Linda?”

She looked around until her gaze settled on the door. “What is this… like a philosophy class?” She crossed her legs and looked at the bare walls. “I’m just not sure it’s going to be worth my time.”

I gritted my teeth and waited to see what direction she would take.

Finally, she leaned back partway and said, “I’m no one special. My life is actually pretty routine. I sleep late quite a bit. The housekeeper wakes me up most days, so I get dressed and go to the gym.”

She stopped and looked at me. “Do you really need to know all this? It doesn’t have anything to do with why I called.”

My stomach growled. The sound seemed to echo across the room.

She stole a glance at the door and then back at me. I felt myself start to breathe again as she continued. “After my workout, I have brunch or lunch, depending on the time. I spend a lot of time in the afternoon with phone calls.” She stopped briefly and looked away before adding, “and social media.”

I smiled briefly. “What’s it like to tell me about it?”

She finally leaned all the way back. After a brief laugh, she said, “I hadn’t given it a whole lot of thought. But coming right out and saying it, I feel a little embarrassed.”

“There’s something about the way you live that you don’t feel quite right about?”

She shook her head a single time. “Well, it’s pretty much what I always wanted.”

I leaned forward slightly. “I’m getting a sense that something’s off.”

She looked away and began talking. “Well, it’s really okay. I’m very busy. Just yesterday, I met with several friends for lunch. They told me all about their kids. One of them, Sarah, is very proud because her son was selected to play on the varsity basketball team. Another friend, Beth, well, I guess it’s a bit different with her. She and her husband are having problems. She just goes on and on about them, but she won’t leave him. She just likes to talk.”

My inner stopwatch was ticking. I had to interrupt. “Linda, what are you really telling me?”

She sat back with an expression almost like a smirk. “Oh. I thought you wanted to hear about my life?”

A brief wave of tension ran through me. I hoped it didn’t show. “I was hoping for something a little deeper.”

Her speech was uneven. She began slowly. “I’m not sure what you expect.” Then much louder, “Just what do you want from me?”

The room was quiet for a minute. “It’s not about what I want.”

A faint smile began to appear and then suddenly vanished. “Oh, I guess you’re right. I shouldn’t be wasting your time.”

I relaxed and smiled. “Linda, is that what I was saying?”

She looked at my diplomas before returning her gaze to me. “I guess I can see what you’re getting at. It’s uncomfortable.”

I nodded. My smile stayed in place. Just not as fully.

She started opening and closing the clasp on her purse. “Then I guess I don’t know what to say.”

My eyebrows raised slightly. “You don’t?”

Her first word came out slowly. “Well, I guess I kind of do.” She paused as she resumed looking around the room. “I just don’t feel comfortable saying it.”

She took a long look at my diplomas as she brought her hands over her knees.

She finally said, “Okay. I don’t much care for my life. Is that what you were waiting to hear? I guess you’re happy now.”

I simply sat with her.

“Well, that’s not really true. I have a great life. There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m actually really lucky.” She winced. “It’s me. There must be something wrong with me. I guess I just don’t know how to be happy.”

I uncrossed my legs and leaned toward her. “Wow, that’s a tough thing to say.”

She looked at me as she had done before. Why did she now look so different? I was floored by her sudden vulnerability and fought an impulse to stare.

This time, she was the one who stayed silent. The room became unsettled. There was a sense that the next few seconds would determine our course.

I was floundering… a sense of excitement mixed with panic. I had to say something. “I admire you.”

She sat back quickly as she grabbed her purse again. She then said, “Why would you say that?”

“It must be a hard thing to face… and even harder to come right out and say.”

A faint smile appeared. “Yeah, I guess it was a big step. It seems kind of silly. I don’t know why it was so hard for me. I’m surprised. I actually feel relieved, now that I’ve said it.”

“Any idea why it was so hard for you?”

She stared at the floor. She brought her hand up to cover her eyes. Then she moved it down to partially cover her mouth even as she spoke. “I don’t have any right to feel bad.”

I leaned toward her. “Do people have to earn their feelings?”

There was an edge in her voice as she spoke. “You know what I mean. If you’re going to make fun of me, I’m not going to waste my time.”

I felt my gut clench. I started to apologize but stopped myself. “It’s a delicate time. You were reaching inside and sharing something with me that’s been very private. Thank you for that.”

She looked up and smiled openly. “Thank you for hearing me. You don’t think I’m crazy because I’m not happy?”

“That seems to be a question that’s been bothering you.”

She stared at me. “Well, duh.”

I simply smiled at her. “Here’s my question. Is happiness an inside thing or an outside thing?”

She uncrossed her legs and sat back. “I guess I was getting them mixed up. I’ve always worked so hard to make things right on the outside. I guess I haven’t paid enough attention to the inside part. And as I think of it, that’s the part that really matters.”

“Let’s talk a little about what your life is like.”

She frowned. “It’s okay. I mean it’s pretty much what I’d dreamed of.”

“Is it what you thought it would be? I’m asking about the inside part.”

She gathered herself and shifted her weight further away from me. “Look, I hardly know you. You’re asking questions that aren’t easy to answer.”

I took a breath as I shifted my weight. “Isn’t that the idea?”

She looked up slowly, still not meeting my eyes. Her voice was faint. “Okay, I guess I need to admit it to myself. I’m bored with my life and my lifestyle. I’m not living for anything anymore. I’m just living.”