The Discomfort Of Growth

(What will people say? What if I make them uncomfortable?)

“What if you didn’t care?”

(I really really care.)

“That sounds uncomfortable.

Okay, so you are going to make people uncomfortable. Can you sit with that? Can you get comfortable in it?

You are going to make people uncomfortable.

If you start with yourself, at least you’ll know how they feel.

That would be the way to show that you care.

And I know that you do care.

And I know that’s uncomfortable.”

I wrote this little pep talk to myself at the end of last year’s Yoga, Sex + Death™ retreat. It was the second time I’d taken YSD, and I was thinking back to the first time I did it, as a six-week course.

I spent the whole 6 weeks worrying about how my growth would affect my relationships with the people around me. I could feel that profound changes were starting to take place, and all I could think about was whether it was going to ruin my marriage, change my friendships, or make it hard to be around my family.

I remember saying to Susan, “I’m afraid that I’m going to outgrow them.”

I can always think of reasons not to keep going. And when I look closely, almost every time, under the surface is actually just the same fear. The same discomfort.

If I start to actually feel good, will people judge me? Will the people in my life be upset that I'm growing? If I start to heal, will my relationships change? If I change, will I still be loved?

What I’ve come to learn, though, is that the more connected I become with myself, the more connected I become with the people around me. As I get to know me, I get to know them. And as I get closer to them, I get closer to me. It couldn’t be any other way.

Growth and change are inherently uncomfortable. That’s just part of it, in my experience. And it might be uncomfortable for everyone around me too. I’m rewriting our well-rehearsed scripts that we’ve been using for a long time.

But the good news is that I’ve actually gotten pretty good at being uncomfortable. So I can just be there for myself. And if it makes the people in my life uncomfortable, I can be there for them, too.

I don’t dare to presume that this is necessarily your experience. You might have no idea what I’m talking about. All I’m saying is that if you DO relate to this, I see you. And you’re not alone.

Keep going.

In Love,

Lucy