The Case for Meaningful Discomfort: Why We Love to Suffer
By Holly Batchelder, PhD
One of my favorite books is The Sweet Spot by Paul Bloom. It explores something I think about often as a psychologist: why humans voluntarily choose hard things.
We lift weights until our muscles burn.
We run races that leave us exhausted.
We eat food that makes our eyes water.
We fall in love knowing it could break our hearts.
If comfort were the ultimate goal, none of this would make sense.
But comfort isn’t actually what we’re wired for. Meaning is.
Psychological research has long shown that growth happens in a middle band of stress. Too little stimulation and we become bored, restless, even depressed. Too much and we shut down. Somewhere in between is a level of challenge that stretches us without overwhelming us.
That middle band is what I think of as meaningful discomfort.
It’s the discomfort of effort. Of vulnerability. Of learning something new and feeling temporarily incompetent. Of telling the truth in a relationship when it would be easier to stay quiet.
It doesn’t feel pleasant in the moment. But afterward, it leaves us steadier.
Not all discomfort works this way.
There’s another kind that looks similar on the surface but functions very differently. Chaos. Emotional volatility. Intensity that keeps you slightly off balance. The kind of stress that activates old attachment patterns and feels addictive rather than strengthening.
Our nervous systems can confuse intensity with growth.
As a clinician, I see this distinction constantly. Some clients are avoiding all forms of discomfort and feel stagnant. Others are chasing high-stakes emotional experiences and calling it passion, when it’s actually reenactment.
Meaningful discomfort builds agency. It reinforces the belief: I can tolerate this. I can grow through this. It aligns with our values and expands our capacity.
Destabilizing stress shrinks us. It leaves us dysregulated, hypervigilant, or numb.
The goal isn’t to suffer more. It’s to choose wisely.
To ask:
Is this stretching me?
Or is this activating something unresolved?
The sweet spot isn’t comfortable. But it isn’t chaotic either.
It’s effortful. Intentional. Regulating enough to stay present.
References
Bloom, P. (2021). The sweet spot: The pleasures of suffering and the search for meaning. Ecco.
Khalsa, S. S., Adolphs, R., Cameron, O. G., Critchley, H. D., Davenport, P. W., Feinstein, J. S., et al. (2018). Interoception and mental health: A roadmap. Biological Psychiatry: Cognitive Neuroscience and Neuroimaging, 3(6), 501–513.
Ryan, R. M., & Deci, E. L. (2000). Self-determination theory and the facilitation of intrinsic motivation, social development, and well-being. American Psychologist, 55(1), 68–78.
Tedeschi, R. G., & Calhoun, L. G. (1996). The posttraumatic growth inventory: Measuring the positive legacy of trauma. Journal of Traumatic Stress, 9(3), 455–471.