What Drives Us: A Human Look at Motivation

Motivation has as many faces as there are human desires. The simplest definition of motivation boils down to wanting. We want a change in behavior, thoughts, feelings, self-concept, environment, or relationships. Motivation, in its essence, is not static—it’s a living, shifting internal drive that asks for movement. Sometimes it’s subtle, like a vague restlessness nudging us forward. Sometimes it’s urgent, all-consuming, impossible to ignore. In either case, it’s the fuel behind every action we take. And yet, for something so fundamental, it’s still often misunderstood.

We live in a culture that talks about motivation like it’s a rare superpower you either have or you don’t. But what if motivation is less about willpower and more about needs? Our bodies and minds are constantly scanning for what feels off, what needs soothing, what feels purposeful. Physiological needs like hunger or exhaustion affect our behavior. But so do psychological needs like autonomy, competence, and connection. A person who avoids going to the gym might not lack discipline—they might lack a sense of mastery, or dread judgment, or feel lonely in the effort. Understanding motivation means we stop asking “what’s wrong with me?” and start asking “what might I need right now?”

Motivation comes in many forms, not just one. There’s the quiet joy of doing something simply because we love it—that’s intrinsic motivation. There’s the external push from deadlines, grades, praise, or paychecks—that’s extrinsic. Both play a role, but they don’t feel the same. Intrinsic motivation tends to last longer. It sustains creativity, persistence, and well-being. Extrinsic motivation can kickstart action but often needs to be renewed. And sometimes, we do things out of habit, or to avoid shame, or because they align with who we think we should be. Our reasons are layered, contradictory, and deeply human.

In real life, motivation often shows up in disguise. We call it procrastination, but underneath, it might be fear. We call it laziness, but it might be overwhelm. Understanding this helps us respond with compassion rather than criticism. For example, someone might exercise not to lose weight, but to feel connected to others, or to manage anxiety, or to prove to themselves they can. The same behavior can have a dozen different motives behind it—and those motives matter. They determine how sustainable, how joyful, and how self-affirming the behavior becomes.

When psychologists study motivation, they look at behavior, engagement, physiology, even brain activity. They measure how people show up in conversations, how deeply they focus, how long they persist through frustration. But motivation isn’t just science—it’s storytelling. It’s the story we tell ourselves about why we do what we do. Are we chasing approval? Avoiding discomfort? Following curiosity? Hoping for transformation? Those inner stories shape our outer behavior more than we realize.

Sometimes, we pursue goals that aren’t really ours. We inherit them—from parents, culture, fear—and chase them out of obligation. These are non-concordant goals, and they often leave us depleted, even when achieved. In contrast, self-concordant goals feel like extensions of who we are. They energize us, align with our values, and increase our well-being. The difference isn’t just in the outcome—it’s in how we feel along the way. It’s in whether we want to keep going after we fall short, and whether success feels like coming home or wearing someone else’s shoes.

Procrastination and avoidance are often signs of a mismatch between our internal needs and the external demands we face. If something feels too big, too vague, or too disconnected from what matters to us, we delay. Not because we’re broken, but because the motivation isn’t lining up right. Our emotions signal this. So does our body. And our relationships can either reinforce the shame spiral or help us remember what we’re capable of. When someone believes in us, holds space for our fear, or reminds us of our strengths, they help rekindle motivation that might have dimmed.

Motivation fluctuates. It rises and falls depending on our context, energy, mindset, and circumstances. Some days, we’re driven by future goals. Other days, by immediate needs. Often, the strongest motive wins in the moment—but that doesn’t mean the others disappear. They wait. They resurface when the time is right, or when we reconnect with why they mattered to us in the first place. That’s why it helps to design environments that support our best motives. Clear goals, choices in how to act, and feedback that feels respectful can all bring us back to what matters.

If a task is dull or tedious, short-term goals can help us stay focused. They give us a sense of progress, which can be motivating in itself. But if a task is interesting or meaningful, too many checkpoints can feel stifling. In those cases, longer-term goals give us room to breathe and explore. Understanding the kind of motivation a task invites allows us to approach it more skillfully, with less self-blame and more flexibility.

Ultimately, motivation isn’t about fixing ourselves. It’s about understanding ourselves. It’s about listening closely to what we need, what we care about, and what lights us up. It’s about creating inner and outer conditions that let those needs guide us, not shame us. When we treat motivation as something alive—not something we either have or lack—we start relating to our goals with more kindness, creativity, and courage. And in that space, real change becomes possible.