Why Happiness Isn’t the Goal (and What to Aim for Instead)

I missed you last Wednesday! If you weren’t able to attend the Dream Big, Live Bold workshop—oh my goodness—you missed out on a jam-packed hour of strategy, support, and some seriously inspiring women. These were women just like you: tired of feeling stuck, frustrated, or like life is harder than it should be.

At the end of one of the sessions, a woman asked a question that I think a lot of us have quietly asked ourselves:

“Don’t you ever get tired of being diligent?”

Whew. That one hit, didn’t it? Because the truth is… yes. Diligence can be exhausting. And maybe you’ve wondered the same thing but phrased it differently in your mind:
“Why does everything have to be so hard?”
“Why is it so easy for everyone else, but such a struggle for me?”
“Shouldn’t I be happier by now?”

It’s a totally human response. Especially when you’ve been doing the work—and it still feels hard.

And here’s where I want to gently challenge the way we think about all this. You might be holding onto this belief:

“I’m supposed to be happy. That’s the goal, right?”

After all, doesn’t the scripture say, “Men (and women) are that they might have joy”?

Yes. But let’s zoom out for a second.

In the Book of Mormon, those words about joy come after a whole section describing why opposition is necessary in life:

“They would have remained in a state of innocence,
having no joy, for they knew no misery…”

Joy requires contrast. You can’t feel joy if you’ve never experienced sorrow. You can’t appreciate peace without chaos. That’s not a design flaw in your life. It is the design.

Ecclesiastes 3 says,

“To every thing there is a season…
A time to weep, and a time to laugh…
A time to mourn, and a time to dance.”

This back-and-forth rhythm? It’s not punishment. It’s purpose.

Even Paul teaches this in Romans:

“The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”

Let’s be real: you already knew life wasn’t supposed to be easy all the time. You knew it was about growth. Stretching. Becoming more like Christ.

But the problem sneaks in when we forget that the hard parts are part of the plan. When we look around and think we’re supposed to be constantly happy—because the world is always promising instant satisfaction and selling “happy” as the end goal.

But… what even is happy?

Back in episode 67, Beyond Happiness: How to Cultivate True Joy as a Single Woman, I talked about how “happy” is actually pretty mid. Think of it on a horizontal line—right in the middle between the worst feeling you can imagine (maybe fear or shame) and the best (maybe love or peace).

Happy’s a C-average feeling. Fine. Meh. Safe.

But you, my friend, weren’t created for just fine.

You were made for joy.

And joy? It’s not a feeling—it’s a state of being. A deep, grounded, spiritual kind of well-being. And guess what? The recipe for joy isn’t all sunshine and ease. It includes discomfort. Insecurity. Frustration. Doubt.

But also—confidence. Trust. Peace. Love.

Here’s the trick: you have to be willing to feel all of it.

Half of life will feel like progress, momentum, goodness. The other half? Annoying. Hard. Messy. That’s the 50/50 of human life. And embracing that truth is how you stop fighting reality—and start building joy.

This is exactly what we explored in the Dream Big, Live Bold workshop. I taught the women a simple, proven 6-step framework to take a dream from “just an idea” to “done and real” in just 30 days. The secret wasn’t hustle. It wasn’t willpower.

It was self-trust. Calendar obedience. And the willingness to feel the full range of emotions that come with real change.

That’s how you build a life you actually love.

One where you trust yourself.
One where you follow through, even when you don’t feel like it.
One where you don’t settle for “happy,” but stretch for joy.

So yes—diligence can feel hard sometimes. But that doesn’t mean something’s gone wrong. It means you’re doing the work required to create something that doesn’t exist yet.

Joy doesn’t come from ease. It comes from choosing to feel the hard stuff—again and again—and keep showing up anyway.

That’s the work.
But it’s also the way.