The Importance of Discomfort

Can you see me? I'm the dot of pink in the sea of gray and snow.

Most of us learned physical discomfort long before emotional discomfort.

Take Thanksgiving: you eat too much, your stomach aches, your pants revolt, and suddenly you’re doing anything

loosening a button, lying down, taking deep breathes

just to feel better.

That instinct to escape discomfort?

We do the exact same thing with our emotions.

When shame hits, we hide.

When fear rises, we rush toward whatever feels safe.

When loneliness creeps in, we reach for someone or something.

When boredom appears, we grab our phones or create chaos.

When life feels tight, we look for the quickest way out.

Because discomfort tells the body:

I don’t like this. Fix it. Make it stop.

And we obey almost automatically.

But here’s the other truth:

Sometimes we don’t run from discomfort.

Sometimes we stay in the wrong kind far too long.

Not because it’s good for us,

but because it’s familiar.

We tolerate what hurts because at least we understand it.

We cling to predictable pain instead of risking unknown possibility.

And none of this makes us weak.

It makes us human.

Our brains are wired for survival, not happiness.

They choose the known, even when it’s painful,

because predictability feels safer than uncertainty.

So yes, of course we stay too long sometimes.

Of course we reach for quick relief.

Of course we cling to what we know.

It’s not a flaw.

It’s biology.

But here’s where choice begins:

Emotional discomfort doesn’t go away when we distract ourselves or numb out.

It asks for presence.

For attention.

For courage.

It asks us to stay with the tightness instead of running,

to breathe through the heaviness,

to sit with the feeling long enough to understand what it’s trying to tell us.

Because discomfort isn’t a sign something is wrong.

It’s a sign something is happening.

It’s the threshold before clarity, truth, and change.

If we choose it.

And when we learn to sit with the right kind of discomfort,

the kind that expands us,

we build resilience, self-trust, and emotional steadiness.

Discomfort isn’t the enemy.

It’s the initiation.

Every time we stay,

every time we breathe,

every time we resist the urge to escape,

we grow into someone who can hold more of life

with authenticity, capacity, and presence.

And the more capacity we build,

the more joy and happiness we’re able to feel too.