I Finally Had it - So Why Couldn't I Accept it?

For a long time, I had wanted to purchase a book (Sensual by Henika), written by a woman I follow who shares insights on tantric philosophy. I watched as she did book signings and read extracts aloud, and eventually, I decided that I would purchase a signed copy. As this was outside of my usual book budget, I waited a little while before buying it.

The day finally arrived, and I went to purchase the book—only to be met with a technical error on the website. I reached out for support and was met with warmth and a quick resolution. This only deepened my excitement to receive the book and dive into expanding my knowledge.

Once the book was purchased, I eagerly awaited its arrival. When it finally came, I excitedly opened the package, made myself a coffee, and started to read. The content grabbed my attention immediately—I was ready to set aside a few hours to really immerse myself.

However, what followed wasn’t the focused, inspired reading session I had imagined. Instead, my brain shut off. I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t engage with the material, and ended up putting the book down. Since then, it has remained untouched on my bedside table. I can’t bring myself to pick it up again—not because it’s not interesting, but almost because I wanted it so much. It’s as if I couldn’t accept that it was finally mine.

This got me thinking about other moments in my life that followed a similar pattern—the degree I worked so hard to achieve, but felt nothing when the certificates arrived; the yoga and therapy qualifications I was excited to pursue; the classes I set up with intention and passion.

At first, I wondered if this might be part of my neurodivergence. But then, the following week, I worked with two clients who shared similar experiences. One longed for a new job they had recently secured. The other had finally found a healthy relationship with open communication—something they had waited for, like many of us do. And yet, like me and the book, they struggled to accept that they had what they wanted.

So, what is this?

Is it fear? Insecurity? Neurodiversity?

I'd love to hear your thoughts.