The Beauty of Discomfort

We talk a lot about discipline—but something we rarely talk about is our relationship with discomfort. The truth is, most of us aren’t actually undisciplined… we’re just deeply uncomfortable with being uncomfortable.

Feel bored? Grab your phone. Feel a twinge of hunger or emotion? Reach for a snack. Feel lonely? Call someone. Scroll. Numb. Soothe.

I’ve lived there. Still do, in many ways. For a long time, I thought discomfort meant something was wrong—that I needed to fix it, soothe it, or push it away. But what if discomfort isn’t the enemy? What if it’s the doorway?

Let me be clear: comfort is beautiful. It’s a warm cup of tea, your softest blanket, a walk in nature, a hug from someone who feels like home. We need that kind of comfort—it nourishes us.

But there’s another kind of comfort too. The kind that keeps us stuck. The one that says: stay where it’s safe. Don’t change. Don’t grow. It’s too scary out there.

And it’s not your fault if you find yourself here. Society teaches us to crave ease and avoid anything that challenges it. But building a new relationship with discomfort is a skill—a practice. And it changes everything.

When you stretch your capacity to feel discomfort—even just a little—you realise: I can do hard things and still be okay.

It’s not that comfort is the problem. It’s that avoiding discomfort might be what’s keeping you from the change you so deeply want.

When we’re stressed, we turn to our usual escapes: food, our phones, other people, validation. That was me—for years.

My nervous system couldn’t tolerate discomfort—it spiralled the moment things felt off. I hadn’t yet done the inner work we talk about here at WCL, so even the tiniest discomfort felt overwhelming.

That avoidance showed up in sneaky ways—people-pleasing, always needing to be liked, feeling awful if I sensed someone didn’t approve of me. I’d reach for food not because I was hungry, but because I wanted to silence the discomfort inside.

Now? I’m learning to pause. To gently ask: am I actually craving comfort… or am I avoiding something I need to feel?

I’m learning to lean into discomfort—just a little at a time. And that’s why I’m writing this: because if you’re struggling with this too, you’re not alone.

There’s a quote from Brianna Wiest that I keep in the front of my planner:

“A beautiful life is not stumbled upon, it is built. It is chosen.”

Yes. That’s it. Choosing change, choosing growth, choosing healing—it’s not always soft. It’s uncomfortable. It’s scary. But in this choosing, we create our own evolution.

She continues:

“It is not one we can rationalise our way into—it’s one that must be felt. A beautiful life is not one that is immediately comfortable, but one grown through the acknowledgment of what is worth being uncomfortable for. It is not one that is easy. It is one that is worth it.”

So, here’s my invitation—for you and for me: can we sit with the uncomfortable, just one minute longer than we did yesterday?

Let’s not rush or force. Let’s build. Here are a few soft ways to begin:

1.Choose one moment of purposeful discomfort today
Something you choose, on your terms. An exercise class. A solo coffee. Meditation. A cold shower. This is about building resilience—gently and safely. Start once a week if daily feels like too much.

2.Start small. Really small.
At WCL, we don’t do overwhelm. This is about building, not breaking. Pick one small thing that feels a bit uncomfortable—but manageable. Like pausing for 5 minutes when you get home or signing up for a new class once a week.
Personally, I’m practicing pausing between emotion and response by writing down what I’m feeling before I say it.

3.Watch the discomfort—not to fix it, but to know it.
I’m not asking you to do this all day, every day.
But maybe 30 seconds, twice a day to start?
Just notice it. Time it. Let yourself see: this ends. I can feel this and still be okay.

This path we’re walking at WCL is all about sustainable change. Not perfection. Not rushing. Just tiny moments of courage that build over time.

So—what’s one little thing you’ll try this week?

Remember, I’m walking this path right beside you.
We’re doing this together.

With love, always,
The WCL x

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