Why embracing discomfort might be the healthiest thing you can do

Khaleej Times

22-05-2025

A few months ago, I stood shivering on the edge of the Atlantic in the west of Ireland. My heart pounded. Every cell in my body screamed: Don't do this. All I could think about was returning to the hotel where dry clothes, a fire and warm food awaited me. Still, I jumped in. My breath caught, my skin burned, and for a few seconds, I was utterly overwhelmed. But then something unexpected happened: my mind went quiet. I was entirely present — something I hadn't felt in months, maybe even years. That freezing plunge reminded me of something no podcast or self-help book ever could: discomfort is not the enemy — it's the gateway to growth. In fact, our obsession with comfort — and all its illusions of satisfaction and wholeness, may be the very thing making us sick.
Recent studies show that the average westerner now spends 93 per cent of their entire life indoors — either at home, in an office, or in a car. Then, with a few taps on a screen, we can summon food, entertainment, transport, even human connection. We rarely need to wait, struggle, or even sit alone with our thoughts anymore. And yet, we're more anxious, depressed, addicted and miserable than ever before. We have become so accustomed to instant gratification that the very idea of not having immediate access to what we want can send us into spirals (e.g. think of that moment of dread when your phone dies on a long trip and you realise you'll have to sit with the discomfort of your own being). This is the paradox at the heart of the comfort crisis: the more we try to buffer ourselves from discomfort, the more alienated and unwell we become.
This is because our brains are built for survival, not happiness. For most of human history, discomfort signalled threat like hunger, cold, pain or exclusion. So, we evolved to work in ways that would minimise it. However, that same survival wiring has been hijacked in a hyper-convenience world. The dopamine reward system is overstimulated by ultra-processed food, endless scrolling, mindless shopping, and instant gratification — all offering quick hits of pleasure with long-term costs.
This is because real pleasure comes not from escaping discomfort but from overcoming it. Think of how satisfied you feel after a long day in the garden: physically tired, but deeply content. From a biological perspective, your brain thinks you've taken steps to survive, and rewards you with the feel-good chemicals needed to keep going. Hence, cold plunges, challenging workouts, or uncomfortable conversations can all feel strangely satisfying because they mimic survival challenges. When we're not actively creating the hardship part of the dopamine equation, our brains will seek it out wherever they can. Because of this, many of us are overwhelmed by a vague, restless anxiety we can't quite name. Then, on top of that, our prefrontal cortex — the part of the brain responsible for long-term thinking, emotional regulation, and meaning-making — is constantly overridden by the limbic system's urgent demand for 'more,' without a sense of what purpose that 'more' serves.
This is because purpose is not something we perpetually seek — it's something we actively create through hardship. It regulates our nervous system, develops our resilience and reminds us that we're alive. Without it, we drift — detached from ourselves, reality, and each other. In my view, the modern hunger for identity through political, social, or psychological suffering is a poignant reflection of this very real need for discomfort in our lives. This isn't to dismiss genuine trauma or injustice. But for some, the desperate need to prove their suffering is a away of reclaiming that friction in lives that otherwise feel numb. In that sense, the search for something to rail against is actually a search for meaning. It's a sign of life, but it also suggests we're culturally disoriented about the real challenge.
So, what can we do? Well, we don't need to become monks or masochists. But we do need to reintroduce deliberate difficulty. It can be whatever works for you — from moving your body daily and taking cold showers to finally starting that business, having that complicated conversation or simply sitting with your agitated and bored self instead of turning to a screen. Above all, it involves intentionally resisting the urge to smooth every edge of life and letting ourselves be uncomfortable from time to time. Because, if nothing else, discomfort won't kill us. But avoiding it might.