Sitting in Discomfort Without Making It Worse

There is something about sitting in discomfort that we don't talk about very often. Maybe because nobody ever taught us how to do it.

We're taught how to solve problems. We're taught how to work hard, take action, push through obstacles, and make things happen. Somewhere along the way, many of us learned that if something feels uncomfortable, we should do something about it.

The problem is that not every uncomfortable situation can be solved.

Sometimes there isn't a decision to make. Sometimes there isn't a problem to fix. Sometimes there isn't enough information to know what the next step should be. Sometimes all we can do is wait.

And if you're anything like me, waiting can feel like torture.

The last few years have given me plenty of opportunities to practice this lesson. Starting a business. Publishing a book. Supporting a daughter with a chronic illness. Pursuing opportunities that may or may not work out. Building relationships. Navigating uncertainty.

Each came with long stretches where there was no action to take and no amount of effort that could speed up the outcome.

What I discovered is that my instinct during those moments wasn't actually to solve the problem.

My instinct was to relieve the discomfort.

The human brain doesn't like unanswered questions. We want certainty. We want reassurance. We want to know how things are going to turn out. When those answers aren't available, anxiety has a way of stepping into the driver's seat.

It starts making suggestions.

Send another email.

Follow up one more time.

Think about it again.

Research it a little longer.

Create a backup plan.

Then create a backup plan for the backup plan.

On the surface, all of that activity looks productive. Sometimes it even feels productive. But if I'm honest, much of it has very little to do with influencing the outcome. It has everything to do with temporarily relieving the anxiety that uncertainty creates.

I've noticed this most clearly in all types relationships.

When uncertainty shows up, many of us seek reassurance. We over-explain. We try to prove our value. We chase. We convince ourselves that if we can just find the right words or take the right action, we'll finally create the certainty we're craving.

What we often don't realize is that in our effort to manage our own discomfort, we leave no room for the other person to move toward us.

The space becomes filled with our anxiety.

The irony is that what we're usually looking for is connection, trust, or clarity. Yet our attempts to force those things often make them harder to find.

The same thing happens inside organizations.

One of the most common mistakes I see leaders make during change is responding to uncertainty by over-functioning. Adoption slows, so they schedule more meetings. Employees have questions, so they launch another communication campaign. Resistance appears, so they add more oversight, more pressure, and more urgency.

Sometimes those actions are necessary.

Often they are simply an attempt to relieve leadership's discomfort with not knowing.

What leaders are frequently trying to manage isn't the change itself.

They're trying to manage the anxiety the change creates.

The first signs of resistance appear and they assume the transformation is failing. The first complaint surfaces and they panic. Adoption dips and they double down on pressure.

But resistance isn't always a sign that something is wrong. Sometimes it's a sign that people are processing. Sometimes uncertainty is evidence that people are thinking. Sometimes discomfort is evidence that change is actually happening.

In many ways, organizations mirror the behavior of the people leading them. Leaders who are uncomfortable with uncertainty often transfer that discomfort to everyone around them. Anxiety shows up as urgency. Uncertainty shows up as micromanagement. The need for reassurance shows up as endless status meetings and demands for faster results.

The most effective leaders I've worked with understand that their role isn't to eliminate uncertainty.

Their role is to help people navigate it.

They create clarity where they can. They acknowledge what they don't know. They remain grounded enough that they don't make the discomfort worse for everyone else.

Maybe that's the lesson hidden inside discomfort.

Not that we are powerless.

But that we've been looking for our power in the wrong places.

For a long time, I thought sitting in discomfort meant giving up control.

Now I think it's the opposite.

It's about recognizing where our power actually lives.

I can't control whether someone chooses me. I can't control whether an opportunity works out. I can't control how quickly a client makes a decision. I can't control how another person thinks, feels, or behaves. I can't control how every chapter of my life unfolds.

What I can control is how I show up while those things are unfolding.

I can stay grounded when anxiety wants me to spiral.

I can remain curious instead of rushing to conclusions.

I can stay open to possibilities I haven't considered.

I can continue moving forward even when I don't have all the answers.

Most importantly, I can show up for myself consistently.

I can keep my commitments.

I can honor my values.

I can take care of myself.

I can trust myself.

That's not giving away my power.

That's owning it.

I've learned that sitting in discomfort isn't actually the hard part.

The hard part is resisting the urge to do something unnecessary just to make myself feel better. The hard part is trusting myself enough to wait without abandoning myself in the process.

BGPD Rule: Sometimes the strongest move is not making one.

Not because you're powerless.

Because you're powerful enough to know that not every uncomfortable feeling requires a response, not every unanswered question requires an immediate answer, and not every moment of uncertainty is an emergency.

Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is stay grounded, remain curious, keep showing up for yourself, and trust that clarity will arrive when it's ready.

Further Reading

If this topic resonated with you, you may also enjoy:

• Control Freak Chic — My Favorite Illusion A reflection on our complicated relationship with control and why letting go is harder than it sounds.

• The Worrier Suffers Twice: Acceptance Is the Path to Peace What anxiety does to our minds when we're trying to predict outcomes that haven't happened yet.

• Along for the Ride (I Did Not Buy This Ticket) A reminder that some seasons of life arrive without our permission and require us to navigate uncertainty anyway.

• Pause Before You Pounce (Emotional Intelligence in Action) Why the space between stimulus and response is often where our greatest growth occurs.