Hi friends,
This week, I’ve been thinking about desire.
Yes, that kind. But stay with me - we’re going to get to your professional life in a second.
For years, I noticed that I had very little desire in my relationship. I was tired, needed by everyone, and perpetually aware of what I should be doing for everyone else. By the time I had a moment to myself, the last thing I wanted was another opportunity to be needed.
Naturally, I made this mean something terrible about me.
I’d fallen into what I now call the Giving Gap: the space between how much I felt I should give and how much I actually wanted to.
The bigger the gap, the bigger the shame.
And instead of getting curious about that gap, I judged myself for it.
Where had the generous, loving version of me gone? Who was this woman who secretly wanted everyone to stop asking her for things? Apparently, I’d become quite selfish.
Then, this summer, I took some intentional space in my relationship, and something unexpected happened.
When I was busy enjoying the sunshine, this strange feeling hit me; desire.
Without the familiar pressure, I found myself wanting connection. There was room to notice what I wanted because I wasn’t constantly responding to what someone else wanted from me.
That got my attention.
Then a client described something remarkably similar.
For years, he’d felt pressure to overdeliver. Be a great boss. Anticipate his clients’ needs. Support everyone. Hit the numbers. Make sure the people watching knew he was doing all of it.
He cared about doing good work, but somewhere along the way, the constant requirement to demonstrate that care had worn him down.
Fast forward to a new company and new role, with less scrutiny and more freedom, he noticed something surprising: he wanted to reach out to his network. He wanted to help his colleagues. Supporting someone on his team felt good again.
The impulse was coming from him.
Soon afterward, someone in my network described a similar tension that exists for many doctors: people enter this profession wanting to help others, then spend years being asked to give more, see more, and absorb more, until the desire to care about others gets buried beneath the obligation to keep delivering.
There it was again. The Giving Gap.
On the outside, you may still be doing everything expected of you. On the inside, the distance between “I should” and “I want to” keeps growing. And if you’ve always thought of yourself as a caring person, that distance can feel like evidence that something is wrong with you.
I’ve been noodling on this ever since.
What happens when expectations crowd out desire?
Before anyone cancels their performance reviews, let me be clear: I believe in metrics and accountability. I’ve spent much of my career helping leaders build the management systems that make expectations clear and businesses successful.
But I wonder how often we respond to declining enthusiasm by adding more of the very thing that may be draining it.
Another check-in. Another reporting requirement. Another reminder to take ownership, delivered with detailed instructions about precisely how to do so.
We want initiative, but leave very little room for someone to initiate. We want people to care, but keep increasing what caring requires.
And then we wonder where the engagement went.
I don’t think the answer is to eliminate expectations. I think we need to pay closer attention to the conditions under which we ask people to meet them.
A few places to start:
Give people something meaningful to own.
Agree on the outcome, the boundaries, and when you’ll check in. Then leave room for them to choose an approach. It’s difficult to feel ownership when every move requires approval.
Make room by making choices.
If everything is a priority, a conversation about motivation probably won’t help much. Ask what can stop, wait, or become simpler. Give people enough capacity to bring something of themselves to the work.
Notice what happens when someone gives more.
Does their generosity earn appreciation—or a permanent expansion of their job? If every extra effort becomes tomorrow’s minimum expectation, people have a reason to stop offering it.
Ask about energy alongside results.
“What part of your work would you like more room for?” can reveal something that “Are you on track?” never will. The answer may help you understand where someone still feels curiosity, purpose, or the urge to contribute.
None of this guarantees that someone will rediscover their enthusiasm. Sometimes the workload needs to change. Sometimes the role does. Sometimes a person needs genuine recovery before they can even hear that little voice saying, “I’d like to.”
But before we decide that someone has stopped caring, it’s worth asking how much room we’ve left for them to care freely.
And if you recognize the Giving Gap in yourself, try getting curious before getting critical. What are you giving because you choose to? What are you giving because you’re afraid of disappointing someone? What would you want to offer if you had a little breathing room?
I spent years interpreting my own lack of desire as a character flaw. What surprised me was how much changed when the pressure of others eased up and I could hear what I really want.
It has me asking a different question about leadership:
Where am I asking others for more work when I could inspire more natural curiosity and desire?