Discomfort Is Data
Acknowledging the usefulness of what I don’t want to feel.
I used to think of discomfort as something to avoid at all costs. Need to have a difficult conversation? Send a text. Feeling socially awkward? Have a drink. Facing an unpleasant task? Do it later. Avoid. Avoid. Avoid. Ahhh.
Until recently, I thought of this tendency as a feature, not a bug. It’s how I’ve blissfully hummed along all these years. Someone very dear to me once said — and not in a good way — that I existed inside my “happiness bubble.” Whatever, I thought. You’re just jealous you’re not in here with me! Now let’s get to the club and have some fun.
In February, I experienced a kind of discomfort previously unknown to me. Telling myself “I can do hard things” — and then getting through them — was a tactic that helped in this period. My life had become so insulated that I’d forgotten my ability to be resilient. I’d been actively avoiding discomfort for so long that I felt timid and static. My world, and opinion of myself, had greatly narrowed.
Once the happiness bubble popped, I realized I was in a jail of my own making.
Which got me thinking: What if discomfort were a messenger sent not to torture me but to give me useful information? What if I tried tuning into it instead of avoiding it? What does it even feel like in my body before words come to mind? What is it saying to me? What if discomfort is actually on my side?!
This idea brings me closer to freedom. It deflates the fear I have around anticipating discomfort (which, if I’m honest, is often worse than the discomfort itself). Now I think of discomfort as a game or a puzzle: the point is to figure out what it’s trying to tell me. I don’t need to dread it right off the bat.
I practiced this new attitude during a spring break trip to New Orleans. Now, I love a good party town as much as the next guy, but I was unsettled by the chaotic atmosphere on Bourbon Street. It was the juxtaposition between haves and have-nots, predators and drug deals on full view, and so much excess. It wasn’t just the booze, the plastic and the waste; it was a pillaging of the seas at a scale that I hadn’t fathomed until I saw eight trash cans outside of one restaurant, just for its mollusk and oyster shells. And that was just one of the hundreds of establishments in the area.
It feels like we Americans are looking for happiness in the wrong bubbles. It doesn’t feel sustainable. (But that’s a subject for another time. For now, I’m focused on the intersection of culture and personal change.)
At the same time, I felt guilty for bringing so much judgment to this place and to my fellow countrymen. Am I just another coastal elite, putting her nose down at others’ lifestyles? I don’t want to contribute to our cultural divide nor be a hypocrite; I 100% consumed my share of drinks, seafood, and styrofoam. I don’t want to be that insufferable San Franciscan.
I was telling this story to my friend Samantha who encouraged me to try a more positive and productive approach.
Rather than judge others, she suggested I look at my discomfort as communicating something to me about my values.
I’ve been thinking about that ever since. My discomfort was telling me that maybe I do value quieter nights these days, that I might prefer a jazz bar with a different vibe, that I do enjoy spending time with family in the hotel over carousing in the street, that I feel less creative in a nonstop-consumer environment. That’s just me. You do you. I can recognize my needs without judging the ways others find their joy.
I started to enjoy seeing how this data gives my tastes and preferences more shape. By processing my discomfort instead of shying away from it, I was learning about myself and taking notes for how next time I might adjust my actions to be more in line with my values.
Living outside my “happiness bubble” means facing discomfort head-on. The difference is that now I’m ready for it — and the growth that will hopefully follow.
⛽️ Links filling me up right now
🎙 The Undimmed Podcast
My friend (and Mia’s Queue interviewee)
has finally released her podcast! Hooray. I’ve been waiting for this show about living life without “dimmers,” aka the things we do to ease discomfort (🙋🏼♀️). The first episode is a great one (can I be your friend, Jennifer Pattee?!) and could not have been better timed to be a companion piece to today’s newsletter. I can’t wait for more episodes.
🩰 Mere Mortals
2024 is proving to be the year of Floating Points. In January, I saw him play a DJ set in SF, and then I streamed his orgasmic thruple with Jamie XX and Daphni on Coachella’s Quasar stage. But the pinnacle might be his production with the SF Ballet. Just one hour long, the performance was perfect and compact: breathtaking choreography, effective costumes, AI special effects, arresting music — my kind of dance recital. The run has ended but Sam hinted on Instagram that it’ll be back. Go if you can! (I want to see more modern art like this. Suggestions?!)
📙 “Grief Is For People” by Sloane Crosley
Like “trauma,” “grief” is a word I hear bandied about, unclear how it applies to me. I know it’ll be a transformative exploration when the time comes. For now, I appreciate people who are open with their expressions of grief so empaths like me can better understand what it feels like and how to process it. I just loved this book by Sloane Crosley, who manages to interweave two traumatic experiences — the suicide of her best friend and getting robbed — into one profound memoir.
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Such a beautiful concept. It’s all just data! I feel so much empowerment coming through in this share and appreciate your story so much. Thank you!!
This is such a profound perspective Mia. In my life, I find myself hiding out in my happiness bubble and avoiding things that could burst it because it feels like it's taken me so long to form this bubble through my personal journey with mental health and I don't want to lose it. But what I often forget is that happiness bubble isn't a one time thing, it can be burst, formed and then popped again and to your point, it's a disservice to ourselves to forget how resilient we are. I really enjoyed this read, thanks for sharing!