Why Growth Feels Uncomfortable at First
Growth is uncomfortable because you've never been here before. — Luvvie Ajayi Jones
—What lingers after this line?
One-minute reflection
What does this quote ask you to notice today?
The Discomfort of New Territory
Luvvie Ajayi Jones frames growth as a first-time experience, and that simple observation explains why it often feels so uneasy. When you arrive somewhere you’ve never been—emotionally, professionally, or spiritually—your usual instincts can’t rely on familiar evidence. As a result, uncertainty shows up as tension, self-doubt, or even a strong desire to retreat. This is also why growth rarely feels like a clean upward climb; it feels like stumbling in low light. Yet the discomfort isn’t proof that something is wrong. Instead, it signals that you’re operating beyond routine, where learning must be earned in real time rather than recalled from habit.
Why the Brain Prefers Familiarity
Building on that idea, discomfort is often your nervous system doing exactly what it was designed to do: reduce risk by favoring the known. Novel situations demand more cognitive and emotional energy, and the brain tends to interpret ambiguity as potential danger. In that sense, the unease of growth is partly a biological nudge to return to what is predictable. However, what keeps you safe doesn’t always help you expand. Over time, repeatedly choosing the unfamiliar can teach your brain that “new” is not automatically “unsafe,” gradually converting what once felt threatening into what later feels normal.
Identity Friction and Becoming Someone New
Beyond biology, growth can feel uncomfortable because it challenges identity. If you’ve long seen yourself as the reliable helper, the quiet one, or the person who doesn’t fail, then stepping into new capacity disrupts the story you’ve lived by. That disruption can feel like inner conflict: you’re not only learning a skill, you’re renegotiating who you are. This is why progress sometimes brings unexpected grief. You may outgrow roles, relationships, or self-concepts that once gave you stability. In that transition, discomfort becomes the cost of upgrading your identity to match your emerging reality.
Awkwardness as Evidence of Learning
If discomfort is the emotional signature of unfamiliar territory, awkwardness is often the practical signature. Early stages of growth are clumsy: the first presentation, the first boundary you set, the first time you lead. Like a beginner learning a new instrument, you can hear the imperfections more loudly than anyone else can. Yet that clumsiness is not a detour from growth; it’s the mechanism of growth. Skill acquisition typically requires imperfect repetitions, feedback, and correction, which makes the process feel vulnerable. In this light, being uncomfortable isn’t a red flag—it’s data that you’re actually practicing the new.
Choosing Discomfort on Purpose
As the quote implies, the key shift is recognizing discomfort as a predictable companion rather than a stop sign. Once you expect the unease, you can meet it with structure: smaller experiments, supportive peers, and honest reflection. Instead of waiting to “feel ready,” you treat readiness as something that follows action. A simple example is someone changing careers: the first networking call may feel unnatural, even humiliating. But after ten conversations, the discomfort often transforms into competence. What changed wasn’t the world—it was the person’s familiarity with the new terrain.
When Growth Becomes the New Normal
Finally, the quote points to a hopeful outcome: you won’t always feel this way. The discomfort of growth is often temporary because repetition turns novelty into familiarity. What once triggered anxiety can eventually feel like routine, and that routine becomes the platform for the next stretch. In other words, discomfort is not the destination; it’s the threshold. If you can tolerate the “never been here before” feeling long enough to learn your footing, you gain both capability and confidence—making future growth less mysterious, even if it remains challenging.