A few weeks ago, I did a podcast on this same topic, if you’d like to listen to that episode, you can find it in your favorite podcast player. Search for episode 352. You can also listen by following this link.
As a therapist, I’ve watched certain phrases rise and fall in popularity over the years.
There was a season when everything revolved around self-esteem. Then we became fascinated with boundaries. Over the last few years, we’ve rushed through some phases or phrases.
Trigger
Trauma Response—A word I’ve come to loathe when used as an excuse for poor behavior.
My Truth
Trauma
It turns out that I’m not alone. I posted on my Facebook the question, “What therapy words do you think are overused or society is obsessed with today?”
The responses were overwhelming. So many people pointed out phrases they hear often. You can read the comments here and if you’re not following me on Facebook you can do that here.
More recently, one phrase seems to appear almost everywhere.
“I just didn’t feel safe.”
Sometimes that statement is profoundly true. It’s important to be clear and recognize that there are truly abusers out there.
Someone really is in an emotionally, physically, or psychologically unsafe situation. They are being manipulated, abused, threatened, or controlled. Those situations are real, and I’m grateful we’ve become better at recognizing them. For far too long, many people suffered in silence because we lacked the language—or perhaps the courage—to call harmful situations what they were.
Recognizing that has been an important cultural correction.
But we can struggle with balance as a people. Because of that, almost every correction can become an overcorrection.
I worry that we’re unintentionally teaching people that discomfort is the same as being unsafe. In doing so, we rob them of one of life’s greatest teachers. Discomfort has always been one of the primary ways human beings grow.
I sometimes hear people use the language of safety to describe experiences that are uncomfortable but not actually dangerous. They lack knowledge or wisdom to understand the difference.
A difficult conversation with a spouse becomes “unsafe.” Receiving honest feedback at work becomes “unsafe.” A friend disagreeing with us becomes “unsafe.” Trying for something that could benefit us but also carries the risk of rejection becomes “unsafe.”
We have begun using the same word to describe both genuine harm and ordinary vulnerability.
That is dangerous for development because those are not the same thing. And as you probably know, once your brain does something, it learns from that experience and changes itself in order to do that thing faster next time.
That means once your brain confuses discomfort with a lack of safety, it will physically change so that it can make that same conclusion next time you are uncomfortable.
One of the challenges of being human is that our feelings are real, but our interpretation of those feelings isn’t always accurate.
Our bodies do a remarkable job sounding an alarm. Our heart rate increases, tightness blossoms in our chest and for many people, knots form in our stomachs. Those feelings and sensations deserve our attention. But they cannot, by themselves, tell us what the alarm means.
That alarm can be a warning sign for danger or (and you had to know there was an or coming) it can be an indication that we’re about to have an opportunity for growth. Of course, the problem is that those opportunities often come with a high degree of discomfort.
The sensation of discomfort and feeling unsafe can seem remarkably similar.
Think about the last time you had to apologize for something that really mattered to you. Before the words came out, your stomach probably tightened. Your mind raced. Maybe your heart beat a little faster. The same thing happens before asking someone on a first date, interviewing for a job, speaking in front of a crowd, confronting a friend you love, or admitting you’ve made a mistake.
None of those experiences are comfortable. They are almost all extremely important for your mental and emotional health. They shape who you are becoming.
If we decide that every experience producing anxiety should be avoided, we won’t simply avoid pain. We’ll also avoid many of the moments that shape us into wiser, healthier people.
That’s one of the reasons emotionally healthy people learn to ask questions about their discomfort instead of immediately obeying it.
What am I feeling?
Why might I be feeling it?
Am I actually in danger, or am I simply doing something that requires courage?
Those questions help us identify our fear. They rarely eliminate it.
I’ve worked with clients who dreaded confronting a spouse about years of resentment. They described feeling unsafe. As we explored their shared experience, it became clear that what they were actually feeling was vulnerability. They weren’t afraid because they were in danger. They were afraid because telling the truth carried risk. It always does.
The conversation might not have gone well. It might have exposed wounds they’d rather have left buried. They might have encountered changes they’re not willing to make—or didn’t want to pay the price of making.
None of that meant they were unsafe.
It did mean they were standing at the edge of possible growth.
Of course, the opposite is also true. Sometimes people convince themselves that they’re “just uncomfortable” when they’re being mistreated. Wisdom requires us to discern the difference. That’s why I’m not making an argument for ignoring your feelings. It’s an argument for recognizing and examining them.
Your emotions are messengers. We can be inaccurate in our interpretation of them. At best, our interpretations can be inaccurate.
I’ve often wondered whether one unintended consequence of our culture’s focus on comfort is that we’ve begun to assume that peace is the absence of tension or conflict. That’s rarely how life works.
Almost all healthy things are on the other side of discomfort.
A healthy marriage contains uncomfortable conversations.
A healthy friendship includes disagreement and confrontation.
Good parenting requires making decisions your children won’t always appreciate.
Meaningful work stretches you beyond your comfort level.
The absence of discomfort has never been the measure of healthy living.
Perhaps we’ve been asking the wrong question.
Instead of asking, “Do I feel safe?” maybe we should begin by asking, “What kind of discomfort am I experiencing?”
Is this the discomfort of being diminished, manipulated, or harmed?
Or is it the discomfort of becoming more honest, more courageous, more mature, and more like the person I hope to become?
Those are two very different experiences, even if they sometimes feel the same.
Learning to tell the difference is one of the most important emotional skills we can develop. If we mistake every uncomfortable feeling for danger, we’ll slowly build smaller lives. We’ll avoid difficult conversations, challenging opportunities, vulnerable relationships, and honest self-reflection—not because they are harming us, but because they are changing us.
Growth has always required courage, and it always will.
Bypassing discomfort is not an option for any of us. I suppose that might be the bad news.
But the absolutely good news is that we all get to decide what we will do with our discomfort. Will we blindly accept its message of danger? Or will we examine it and then decide how to proceed?
We all get to choose.
May we choose wisely.
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