Published March 04, 2026
I Checked All the Boxes. Why Don’t I Feel Better?
Introduction
During my freshman fall, I had to withdraw from a class. I vividly remember sitting on my bed in Founders Hall, rethinking my decision to take this class and even this major. At the time, it felt like my entire academic career was over. I was convinced that this one W on my transcript would ruin my future. Now, as a senior, I can see how wrong I was. That W didn’t ruin anything. It was just a class.
Fast forward to the summer after my freshman year, when I failed to land an internship. Dejected, I moved back home while watching a flurry of posts fill my LinkedIn feed, written by peers who were embarking on exciting opportunities. I felt like I was falling behind in a race that I didn’t even know had started. That summer felt like solid evidence that I wasn’t cut out for my field, and I had made a terrible mistake in choosing my major. Now, having completed four internships, two of them at Fortune 500 companies, I’m grateful for it; it gave me the academic break I desperately needed while enabling me to grow my skills on my own terms, which helped me succeed in future internships.
Here’s what I’ve learned: the things that feel absolutely crucial in the moment have a way of withering away into insignificance later on. The problem isn’t that these anxious feelings aren’t real. The problem is the cycle itself. What feels catastrophic today gets replaced by the next urgent issue, and the next. However, even knowing this doesn’t stop me from falling into the same trap again and again.
The Moving Target
When I first arrived at NYU, my main goal was simple: to get an internship. When I finally landed one, the goalpost shifted. My new goal was to get a big tech internship. When that was secured, my focus turned to getting a return offer. Now that I have that return offer in hand, I still feel empty, and the only question on my mind is: what comes next?
The Psychology Behind The Chase
There’s a name for this experience, supported by psychological research. The first important concept is the arrival fallacy, or the belief that reaching a goal will bring eternal happiness. Examples of this include: “Once I get into NYU, I’ll be happy”, or “When I achieve a 4.0 GPA, I’ll be happy”.
The second concept is the hedonic treadmill, or our tendency to adapt to positive (and negative) changes in our lives, eventually returning to the same baseline level of happiness. For example, you might get an internship you’d been stressing about for weeks. The excitement is intense at first, but within weeks, you’ve adapted to this new reality, and that high has faded. You’re back to your baseline, already thinking about what comes next.
The intersection of these two phenomena creates the perfect storm. We keep chasing new achievements, convincing ourselves that the next one will finally make us happy forever. But that intense joy never lasts. We adapt, return to our baseline, and start searching for something new to chase. The treadmill keeps moving, and we keep running.
Why This Happens at NYU
NYU, in particular, amplifies this cycle. Our student body consists of the best and brightest from all over the world, situated in one of the biggest, most competitive cities on the planet.
Additionally, New York City fosters a “hustle” mentality in which someone is always doing more. Social comparison is constant and unavoidable. And in our modern world, social media only adds fuel to the fire. From LinkedIn posts celebrating job offers to Instagram stories of people who seem to have it all together, we’re constantly fed snapshots of everyone else’s highlight reels while dealing with our own imperfect lives.
What I'm Learning Actually Helps
I won’t pretend I’ve figured this out completely. I still catch myself in the trap of the arrival fallacy, but I have implemented a few practices that have helped.
Doing Things With No Outcome
When you’re achievement-oriented, everything becomes about metrics – grades, interview performance, etc. Your brain becomes wired to measure everything you do in terms of productivity.
What I’ve found helps is deliberately engaging in activities where there’s no grade. For me, that looks like building projects that combine my interests in computer science and psychology, just because they are fun. Something else I do is watch documentaries on topics I’m curious about, without immediately thinking about how it helps my career.
The key is consistency–doing these things regularly, even when they don’t feel useful. This habit will slowly rewire your brain from the constant productivity mindset and let you exist without self-judgement. It will be uncomfortable at first, but that discomfort is the whole point.
Finding Small Escapes in the Everyday
For me, this looks like trying different coffee shops around the NYU area. It’s an easy way to step out of my routine for a moment. Being in a new space, even if it’s just a few blocks away from my usual spots, disrupts the autopilot.
This doesn’t have to be coffee shops. It could be walking a different route to class, checking out a new neighborhood, or sitting in Washington Square Park without scrolling on your phone. The point isn’t the specific activity, but rather creating moments where you’re present in an experience for its own sake, not because it’s building toward something.
Being Radically Vulnerable
This one is the most difficult, especially for high-achieving NYU students. It means telling friends when you’re struggling, being honest that you don’t have it all figured out, and dropping the “everything’s fine” facade.
Admitting you’re not perfect feels uncomfortable when you’re surrounded by so many people who seem to have everything together. But in my experience, when you open up about your struggles, it creates space for other people to share their own. More often than not, the response is someone else admitting that they’re struggling too. Vulnerability deepens connections in ways that discussing achievements cannot.
Disclaimer: If you are struggling with mental health issues, NYU offers a variety of resources:
Conclusion
I’m writing this as a student who is still very much figuring it out. I can’t definitively say that I’ve escaped this struggle and found permanent peace.
But I am more aware now. I can catch myself engaging in the arrival fallacy and recognize it. I can notice when I’m on the treadmill and choose to step off for a moment. The cycle is still there, but I’m more aware of it now.
And maybe that’s enough: learning to navigate it with a little more awareness, a little more kindness toward yourself, and a little more willingness to actually experience your life instead of constantly racing toward the next checkpoint.