So the other day I was scrolling through Twitter, feeling kinda bleh, you know? Everyone’s flexing their wins, their new cars, their perfect lives. Made me wonder: why do some folks just seem to attract good stuff? They’re like magnets for success. That word “reward” kept popping up – reward points, reward systems, rewarding experiences. So I got curious: what exactly makes someone a reward seeker? Decided to dig in, old-school style. Pen, paper, the whole deal.
Starting from Scratch (Total Newbie Here)
First thing? Honestly? I grabbed my notepad and wrote at the top: “WTF is a Reward Seeker??” Felt silly, but gotta start somewhere, right? I wasn’t looking for some fancy textbook definition. I wanted the real, messy, human version. What makes people actually go get the good stuff they want? Luck? Hard work? Magic beans? Hit up Google with that exact question: “What is a reward seeker in real life?”
Predictably, tons of psychological jargon came flooding in. “Operant conditioning”… “Dopamine pathways”… My eyes started glazing over faster than a donut in a bakery window. Nah, not helpful. I needed something real. So I shifted gears.
Forget the Books, Watch the Humans
Instead of books, I started looking around. Coffee shop guy glued to his loyalty app, checking points after every coffee. My nephew grinding on some mobile game for hours, chasing the next shiny armor drop. My colleague working late, eyes sparkling about the potential quarterly bonus. Even my dog doing tricks for a tiny biscuit!
Started writing down what I saw:
- They know what the cookie is. The coffee guy? He knows 10 coffees = 1 free one. Nephew knows exactly what armor piece drops next. The colleague knows the bonus percentage. My dog knows “sit” = biscuit. Specificity.
- They actually DO something for it. Not just wishing. Clicking the app, playing the game, hitting those sales targets, performing the trick. Action. Effort.
- They track progress (usually). Apps have counters. Games have progress bars. Work has KPIs. Dogs get excited knowing it’s biscuit time. They see how close they are.
- There’s a hit of happy. That little grin getting the app notification, the “YES!” my nephew shouts, the satisfied smile planning the bonus spend. That immediate feedback keeps them hooked.
Trying It On for Size (My Own Stupid Experiment)
Okay, seeing is one thing. Time to feel it. Needed a simple reward to chase. Chose: Walk 5,000 steps daily for 7 days straight = Buy myself that slightly-too-expensive fancy coffee on the weekend. The coffee was the carrot. The steps were the stick.
It was way harder than it sounded. Tuesday? Rainstorm. Wednesday? Was buried in work meetings. Thursday? Seriously considered just shaking my phone. But:
- Action Required: Had to lace up the shoes, walk laps inside, park far away. Conscious choices.
- Tracking: Glued to my phone’s step counter like it held state secrets. 4,500? Need 500 more.
- The Glimmer: Imagining that coffee smell… that kept my butt moving on Thursday night at 9 PM pacing my hallway.
- The Hit: Hitting 5k each day felt weirdly good. Like a tiny internal high-five.
Sunday rolled around. Steps done? Check. Grabbed that fancy coffee. It tasted… fine? Good, even. But honestly? The best part wasn’t the coffee. It was the feeling on Friday night: I freakin’ did it. That tiny win felt surprisingly big. That buzz? That’s the reward the real seekers chase, I think.
So What’s the Takeaway?
Forget the complicated terms. Being a reward seeker, for regular people like you and me trying to get better at stuff? It boils down to this:
- Pick your cookie. Know EXACTLY what small, achievable good thing you want (free coffee, bonus, biscuit, feeling accomplished).
- Do the thing required. Consistently. Even when it sucks a bit.
- Keep tabs. See yourself getting closer.
- Savor the buzz (or the biscuit). Recognize and enjoy that little win.
It’s not about being greedy. It’s about setting up little wins for yourself. Making the effort pay off, visibly and tangibly. Turns out, my dog had it figured out all along. He’s the ultimate reward seeker. Go figure. Guess I’m aiming for a bigger biscuit next week.