I used to be the comfort-keeper.
The first to notice an awkward silence. First to fill it. First to smooth it over, fix it, feed it, make it nice. If someone in the room was uncomfortable, I felt it in my body. And I made it my job to make it go away.
I called it kindness. Sometimes it was. Sometimes it was me avoiding my fear of other people's discomfort.
Nurturing energy is a gift. Holding space, caring, making people feel safe. The world definitely needs more kindness but not at the expense of the giver.
There is a version of care that isn't nurturing at all. It's managing. It's me making sure you're okay so that I can feel okay! I recently read a quote that said if your peace depends on specific circumstances - it's not peace, it's control. I love to be in charge and have always enjoyed a bit of control but as I am getting older, I realise that less and less is in my control.
More is moving to my ‘circle of concern’ as Stephen Covey calls it. Things I am concerned about but cannot control. Having adult children is a huge part of this. It's awful watching them trip and stumble through tough things but it's all part of their world. Them navigating adulthood and learning about themselves.
Your need for comfort might show up in a number of ways.
You say yes when your whole body is saying no!
You soften the truth until it's so diluted it barely exists anymore.
You carry other people's feelings like they're your responsibility.
You end the day exhausted and you can't quite work out why.
People pleasing is an energy leak. Every time I abandoned what I really thought to keep the peace, I paid for it. It was emotionally and energetically expensive.
Oriah Mountain Dreamer has a line in her poem The Invitation that changed my life. For years I read it and reread it wondering how it might apply to my life.
“Are you prepared to disappoint another in order to be true to yourself?”
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
Are you willing to let someone down rather than let yourself down? This speaks to all the sacrifices we make, the compromise. Being praised for being selfless when in fact you were losing yourself. It's easy to disappoint yourself. I got good at it. Somedays, I convinced myself it was a badge of honour.
Getting comfortable with discomfort is about releasing yourself from the responsibility of others. It's not about not caring. It’s about learning to stay in the room when someone else is uncomfortable, and not rushing in to rescue them.
Their disappointment is allowed. Their frustration is allowed. Their surprise that you said no is allowed. None of it means you did something wrong.
It means you did something true. It feels awful at first. Awkward at best. Your nervous system will scream at you to fix it. Old habits are hard to break! Breathe and let it be.
Try these five steps:
Notice the rush. That urge to smooth it over? Name it. "There it is."
Pause before you fix. Count to five. Let the silence sit.
Ask what you actually want. Not what keeps the peace. What's true for you.
Say it kindly, and say it once. No over-explaining. No apologising for having a need.
Let them have their reaction. It's theirs. You don't have to hold it.
There is real freedom on the other side of this. I still care. That part of me isn't going anywhere. But I've stopped making everyone's comfort my job.
You can be warm and honest. Kind and clear. Loving and willing to disappoint. It's not selfish. It's self-respect.
Who are you keeping comfortable at your own expense?
And what would happen if you stopped?