Why You’re Miserable Doing What You Love

Have you ever wondered why you can feel absolutely miserable while doing something you supposedly love? It doesn’t make sense, right?

You’d think if you landed your “dream job” or finally arrived at that life you pictured for yourself, you’d feel nothing but happy, grateful, and fulfilled.

And yet…somehow it wasn't what you imagined. —I’ve been there. More than once.

I’ve had jobs that looked perfect on paper, the kinds of opportunities my past self would envy, but the reality was feeling drained, resentful, and downright depressed. I remember waking up some mornings thinking, “I love the work, but I hate this job.” How is that possible?

For a long time, I blamed it on my idealism. Maybe I just expect too much. Maybe I demand more from people or from life than is realistic. Maybe the problem is me. And let me tell you—that's not it, because aiming for extraordinary is never wrong.

Then on a recent trip to Colorado for the Equitation Science Conference, I stumbled into an idea that completely reframed this problem for me. It came from an unexpected place: a presentation about animal welfare in zoos.

And yet, it felt like someone had just handed me the key for understanding why we often find misery while doing what we love.

It’s a concept called the four free-operant freedoms.

The Problem with “Freedom”

Before I explain what those four freedoms are, let’s back up and talk about freedom itself.

In the U.S., “freedom” is a word we throw around a lot. It’s deeply embedded into our culture. But we usually talk about it in terms of legal rights—freedom of speech, etc. And while those freedoms and rights are critically important, they don’t necessarily describe the freedoms we need day-to-day in order to thrive as human beings.

Freedom isn’t just about permissions or space. It’s also a state of mind. It’s the way having a choice affects our behavior.

Think about it: Grooms get frustrated when they’re told exactly how to do a task they already know inside and out. Riders get worn out when they’re micromanaged in a lesson, not being allowed to figure it out through feel. A jumper who’s always pushed past their comfort zone starts refusing fences. None of us—horse or human—likes to feel like we’re just a cog in someone else’s machine.

Sometimes we blame our misery on something specific, like an uncaring boss or not making enough money. But it's the freedom we want; to do what we want, go where we want, and maybe even say 'no' to the wrong offer. Having a nicer boss or a better salary would be great, but real contentment only happens when you can choose what to do with those resources.

We want control. Even if it’s a small amount. Even if it’s just our perception. We want the freedom to decide how we show up in the world.

Enter: the Four Free-Operant Freedoms

So back to Colorado.

I was introduced to the concept used by Behavior Works consultants to improve the environmental enrichment in zoos. They apply Ogden Lindsley's research, which defined four basic “free-operant freedoms” that influence behavior. The goal was to give zoo animals more control over their own lives—to reduce stress, increase mental stimulation, and encourage the problem solving skills they develop in the natural world.

The four freedoms are simple, but incredibly powerful. I'll summarize them, with my own interpretation, as:

1. The freedom to participate—or not.

2. The freedom to repeat as much as desired.

3. The freedom to be creative.

4. The freedom to set the pace.

When you look closely, all of them boil down to one thing: the need for choices in life.

My Mustang, Sage, Knows All About Freedom

My mustang mare, Sage, has been one of my best teachers on this topic.

When she first settled into my farm, she made it crystal clear that she had opinions about her daily life. She learned very quickly which paddock had the best grass and which didn't, so if I lead her toward the dry lot, she would stop solid in her tracks. No misunderstanding. No fear. Just a big fat NAH, I want to go that way.

She knew what she wanted, and she wasn’t afraid to ask for it. Having a horse with such strong opinions could be an issue if you want a blind follower, but I find it entertaining. (Convincing a thinking-horse to cooperate is a high reward for me, so it's the best kind of challenge)

When it wasn't a bad counter-offer, sometimes she got her way and sometimes not—but the point was, she always tried. (Meanwhile my warmblood never knew it was an option) Sage was always seeking more choice: which space to be in, when to explore, how to achieve the challenges I offered in our training sessions. And honestly? I love it. She’s intelligent, curious, and deeply aware of her environment.

She started life with complete freedom out on the range, so its understandable. Even though she seems to really enjoy the comfort and spoils of domestication, she deserves mental stimulation, options, and moments of self-direction. (There are limitations, of course. I'm not talking about allowances that lead to bad behavior or unsafe situations)

And knowing this about her made me realize—aren’t we the same? Don’t we crave those freedoms too, even when we’re "living the dream"?

Where It All Breaks Down

Here’s what I think happens: we chase the “dream job” or “perfect life” because we believe those things will bring fulfillment. But then, when we finally get them, we discover that they come with hidden limits.

• The “dream job” might not offer the resources or freedom that you need to succeed.

• The “perfect life” might not leave you space to be creative, or to grow in new directions.

• That “once-in-a-lifetime opportunity” might become all-consuming, or stagnant, and not be enough anymore.

And suddenly, even though you technically have everything you asked for, you feel trapped. Because it’s not about what you have, it’s about how much choice you have in experiencing it.

What We Can Learn From the Four Freedoms

So what does this mean for us, practically speaking? Here's how you can add more freedom to your life, so you can actually enjoy what you do:

1. The freedom to participate—or not.→ I once had a job where I was expected to be “all in” all the time. Even when I was sick, or grieving, or just plain exhausted, the answer was always yes. That job taught me that the ability to say no every now and then isn’t selfish—it’s necessary. If it seems impossible to take a break, just try it. If it is impossible, you need to consider what that means for you long term.

2. The freedom to repeat.→ Sometimes the world makes us feel like we have to constantly be moving forward, achieving the next thing. But I’ve started letting myself repeat or practice things I'm good at. Repetition isn’t laziness—it offers comfort, proficiency, and joy. Top performers often say that mastery is in practicing the fundamentals.

3. The freedom to be creative.→ Nothing kills happiness faster than feeling like a robot. Whether it’s work or relationships, we need room to color outside the lines. When was the last time you did something purely because it sounded fun? Not because it was efficient, marketable, or “made sense.” Freedom is choosing to play and try new things.

4. The freedom to set the pace.→ Life isn’t a race—except, unfortunately, we often treat it like one. Sometimes the most radical freedom is being able to slow down, or get moving, on your own. Pay attention to the speed in your life. Who’s setting it—you, or the demands around you? Freedom is remembering you get to set your mental stride.

   
   

The Takeaway

What I’ve realized is this: joy doesn’t come from checking boxes on a “dream life” list. It comes from having freedoms inside that life.

We’re not that different from Sage or from zoo animals. We want the freedom to say yes or no, to repeat things we enjoy, to express ourselves creatively, and to go at a pace that feels right.

Without those freedoms, even the dream can feel like a cage.

So maybe the question isn’t “How do I land the perfect job or life?” Maybe the better question is: “How do I build in enough choice to make it worth living?”