I Built a 7-Figure Company and Still Felt Miserable. Here's Why.

What Naval Ravikant taught me about the desire trap

I was sitting in my home office, staring at the revenue dashboard.

Seven figures.

We’d finally crossed it. I should have felt ecstatic. Instead, my first thought was:

“Okay, what’s next.”

Those words would haunt me for years. I jumped back on the hamster wheel like the past four years were nothing.

I didn’t even take a day to celebrate.

I had built a healthy snack box business that actually helped people—including those with food allergies.

But in this moment, I wasn’t focusing on how it felt to bring smiles to all those faces.

All I could think about was: what’s next.

As soon as I reached my 7 figure goal, the goalpost had silently moved again.

Now I wanted to automate the company and get it to 8 figures.

A Quick Look At My Life Showed The Recurring Pattern

After I graduated high school, I had my first great desire in life—to be a film actor in Hollywood.

I stopped at nothing to make that a reality, and immediately went to the head of the acting department at my university.

“You’ll have to audition and be accepted into the department in order to take classes,” he said.

I’d never acted before. I trained every day for 6 months until my audition day came and I was finally accepted.

When I got into the theater program, I thought: Now I’ll be happy.

But shortly after, all I found myself doing was obsessing over graduating and moving to Hollywood so I could get on film sets.

When I moved to LA, I thought: Now I’ll be happy.

Then came the desire to be a part of a big film project, and after scoring a small part on a Chris Nolan film I thought: Now I’ll finally be happy.

But it sure didn’t feel that way because the feeling from each achievement kept fading.

Acting started to feel hollow. I wasn’t sure if I’d picked the wrong dream or if something deeper was broken. So I pivoted—if Hollywood wasn’t the answer, maybe building something on my own would be. I decided to start a company and become an entrepreneur.

And when the company hit 7 figures, I again found myself just focusing on the next thing.

I’d spent 15 years chasing a road that I thought had an end to it—but there was no end in sight.

What the hell was going on?

The Contract I Didn’t Know I Signed

Then I read something that stopped me cold.

Naval Ravikant describes every desire as a subconscious contract you make with yourself where you decide right then and there: “I will not be happy until this is fulfilled.”

The problem is that humans get adjusted to every milestone they hit in life. When they reach the milestone and the happiness they expected doesn’t arrive, they assume they just need to “do more.”

So they jump back on the hamster wheel and seek to achieve something even greater.

This was exactly the trap I had fallen into.

Each goal I hit didn’t bring peace—it just revealed the next mountain I had to climb.

I was only focused on the destination instead of enjoying the journey. I’d forgotten how fun it actually was to build something or work towards a goal.

It made me think of when I was a child and used to play video games. I was never focused on rushing through the game to get to the end—I truly enjoyed playing every level and enjoyed the journey along the way.

Somewhere on the path to adulthood, I had lost this childlike magic of living in the present moment.

Achievement doesn’t end the cycle. It just triggers new desires.

The Whack-A-Mole Reality Behind My Choices

From my past experience, it was now easy to see that making desire after desire a reality was not bringing me the happiness and peace that I longed for.

In fact, it was very much like the whack-a-mole game—once you whack one mole on the head, another one pops up shortly after.

I had spent the majority of my time in a state of anxiety that never went away. It just got transferred to other things.

Audition anxiety → Business startup anxiety → Scale anxiety

Instead of creating a lasting feeling of joy, this cycle created an everlasting feeling of exhaustion because I was constantly expecting more from myself.

At one point I remember sitting alone on a beach at night crying because the thought popped into my mind that I spent so much time striving for so much, and yet I felt so unfulfilled and devoid of love and acceptance inside myself.

I always thought that anxiety and stress was the price of ambition. Naval helped me see it was the price of endless ambition.

What I’m Learning (Imperfectly)

I still have desires. But now when I catch myself thinking “once I automate the business, THEN I’ll be happy,” I recognize the contract I’m signing.

Sometimes I can stop myself. Usually I can’t.

But at least now I see the hamster wheel for what it is.

Naval points out that having too many desires at once means too much suffering—and that’s not sustainable. So I’m trying to focus on one at a time and ask myself: can I enjoy this process the way I enjoyed video games as a kid? Not rushing to the end, but getting lost in the work itself?

I don’t have it figured out. But I’m learning to notice when the bar silently rises—and sometimes, that awareness alone is enough.

What Contract Are You Running Right Now?

What are you telling yourself you need before you can be happy?

Maybe it’s a promotion. A relationship. A certain income. A body type. A follower count.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

The bar will rise. It always does. The question is whether you’ll notice when it happens—or spend another 15 years chasing something that was never designed to satisfy you.

If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear what contract you’re running right now. Leave a comment below—I read every response.