Ep. 338: Why Avoiding Discomfort Keeps You Stuck and How to Get Unstuck

Today I want to talk about something I come back to again and again in my work, and that’s discomfort. But not in the way we usually think about it.

Because there are actually two very different kinds of discomfort, and confusing them causes a lot of unnecessary suffering.

The first kind of discomfort is the kind that comes from being stuck in dysfunction.
Staying in unhealthy patterns.
Repeating the same behaviors.
Avoiding healing.
Avoiding change.

That kind of discomfort doesn’t go away on its own. In fact, it usually gets worse. It compounds. It becomes chronic. And if nothing changes, it’s not temporary. It’s ongoing.

The second kind of discomfort is the discomfort of change.
Of doing something differently.
Of interrupting old patterns.
Of learning new behaviors.

That discomfort is real, and it can feel intense, but it’s finite. It has an end point. Because once you practice something long enough, it stops feeling foreign. It becomes familiar. And on the other side of that discomfort is healing and an entirely different way of living.

This distinction matters a lot, especially when we’re talking about emotions and emotional boundaries, which is my focus this month. Because emotions are what move us toward things or stop us in our tracks.

We pursue things because of how we think we’ll feel.
And we avoid things because of how we think we’ll feel. It’s that simple.

A lot of the struggle people experience isn’t because they’re weak or incapable. It’s because they’ve learned to avoid emotions. To suppress them. To numb them. To push them down. Instead of letting them move through.

This past weekend, I attended a workshop led by Katja Cahoon, and she articulated this so beautifully that I wanted to share what I learned, layered with my own lens.

She framed it as a kind of “in defense of discomfort.” 

And I loved that framing. I’ll link her website in the show notes.

Because here’s the truth.
There is no growth without discomfort.
But not all discomfort leads to growth.

For discomfort to be helpful, it has to be the right kind, in the right amount, under the right conditions, and within the right nervous system context.

When those conditions are met, discomfort becomes productive instead of paralyzing.

One of the core issues underlying many mental health struggles is something called experiential avoidance. That’s the tendency to suppress, judge, or avoid uncomfortable internal experiences like emotions and body sensations.

And while avoidance might reduce pain in the short term, it also reduces joy. Curiosity. Meaning. Aliveness.

You don’t get to selectively numb. When you avoid certain emotions, you dull everything.

This avoidance pulls us away from our values and away from the life we actually want to live. And it prevents us from accessing something really important, which is flow.

Flow is that state of deep, energized focus where you’re fully immersed in what you’re doing. It’s when learning feels natural, creativity opens up, and effort feels alive instead of draining.

Flow can happen in so many areas. Sports. Music. Art. Writing. knitting Teaching. Parenting. Therapy. Even coding.

Flow emerges when challenge and skill are well matched.

If something is too easy, we get bored.
If it’s too hard, we get anxious or overwhelmed.

Flow doesn’t come from comfort. Comfort has its place, and we need it. But flow comes from manageable discomfort.

manageable discomfort is when Effort is required. Failure is possible. But the sense of threat is low.

This is really important.

In this kind of discomfort, your nervous system isn’t in danger mode. Your attention sharpens. Learning increases. Self conscious rumination quiets down. You move into action.

And…

Feedback feels safe.
Effort feels energizing.
You’re engaged, not depleted.

But not all discomfort supports flow.

There’s a big difference between productive discomfort and overwhelming discomfort.

Productive discomfort invites curiosity and exploration.
Overwhelming discomfort activates the nervous system’s threat response. Fight, flight, freeze or fawn. And when that happens, flow collapses. No more flow.

A helpful question here is this.
Can I fail here and still feel basically safe?

If the answer is yes, you’re probably in the right kind of discomfort.

If the answer is no, something needs adjusting. The challenge might be too big. Or the environment might not be supportive enough. Or the people around you might be dysregulating.

And this brings us to what I think is the missing ingredient in so many conversations about growth.

You need a safe base.

This notion comes straight from attachment theory. A safe base is an emotional anchor that allows exploration.

Think of a small child exploring a playground. They wander off, look back to make sure their caregiver is there, come back when they’re distressed, regulate, and then head out again.

That’s how growth works.

We move toward independence because we carry safety inside. This is the internal safety I’ve been talking about a lot lately. And we can create that safety for ourselves when we build healthy boundaries and learn to manage our emotions.

Without a safe base, either externally or internally, challenge feels dangerous. Daunting. Sometimes impossible.

With a good enough safe base, challenge feels doable.

And I want to pause here and emphasize something important.
Good enough does not mean perfect.

Donald Winnicott talked about the concept of the good enough parent. Not flawless. Just more right than wrong.

Not everyone grows up with that. In fact, most people grow up with trauma, inconsistency, or emotional unsafety. That doesn’t mean you’re broken.

It means you didn’t get what you needed.

And the hopeful part is this. You can build a safe base as an adult. Internally and externally. We have neuroplasticity. Our brains can change.

So let’s talk about how.

Internally, this looks like building psychological flexibility. That’s the antidote to experiential avoidance.

It’s how you talk to yourself under pressure.
How quickly you recover from setbacks.
Practices that build resilience.
Practices that help you stay present in your body instead of checking out.

And Externally, this looks like good enough relationships in adulthood.

Partners.
Friends.
Mentors.
Therapists.
Coaches.
Spiritual communities.
Even imagined cheerleaders.

There are so many examples of external supports in action.

Think about Couch to 5K programs. It introduces Gradual challenge with built in support along the way.

Think about twelve step recovery or peer support communities. Healing happens in relationship, not isolation.

Think about a good therapist or coach who helps you stretch without overwhelming you.

In software engineering, there’s something called pair programming. Two people working together, troubleshooting side by side. There’s an attachment component there. A safe base.

Body doubling is another example. Body doubling means Working in the presence of calm others. Coworking spaces. Libraries. Just being around regulated nervous systems can change your own.

This is something I do all the time. I have a friend come to my home to cowork because it’s good for my nervous sytem. I sometimes to go the library to work because I just need to be around other humans. It’s good for my nervous system. I just intuitively knew I needed these things, and now I know why.

Volunteering toward a shared goal with structure and compassion can also provide external support.

All of these create safety that makes growth possible.

So if you’re pursuing a goal and you find yourself consistently stressed, anxious, avoidant, or shut down, I want to offer this reframe.

Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me?” ask:

Do I need more internal kindness or flexibility?
Is the challenge calibrated to my current capacity?
Am I focused only on the outcome instead of the process? We spend much more of our lives in process than we ever do with outcomes, so if the process doesn’t work, we’re not going to accomplish anything. You deserve to create circumstances under which your processes are supported.
Do I need support? Professional, communal, or practical?
Do I need to regulate my nervous system through movement, breath, or rest or being around others?

Often, the answer isn’t another task.
It’s a different relationship with what you’re already doing.

Discomfort isn’t the enemy. But uncontained, unsupported discomfort is.

Healing happens when we choose the finite discomfort of growth over the endless discomfort of staying stuck, and when we build enough safety to make that growth sustainable.

That’s where real change happens.

And that’s what I want for you.