Why Intentional Discomfort Is Actually Good For You

Imagine waking up one morning to find that your smartphone can no longer guide you to work, order your coffee, or connect you with friends. For many, this scenario is one of nightmares. But it’s not exactly far-fetched, either. Our reliance on comfort-driven technologies has created a fragile foundation, leaving us ill-equipped to navigate life without them.

Despite being more digitally connected than ever, we are lonelier, more anxious, and increasingly overwhelmed. Anxiety rates surged by 25% globally due to the COVID-19 pandemic, according to the World Health Organization, with a Lancet Discovery Science study highlighting its lasting impact on the future burden of anxiety disorders. Depression now affects over 280 million people worldwide, underscoring the broader mental health impact of our current way of living. Burnout, once a rarity, has become nearly universal.

All of this can be traced to our growing dependence on digital crutches—social media, instant entertainment, algorithm-driven distractions—designed to offer quick relief but often at the expense of deep, meaningful engagement. Research suggests that heavy screen time and social media engagement are strongly linked with higher levels of social isolation, lower well-being, and increased risk of suicidal ideation. Platforms engineered to capture our attention also rewire our stress response: constant notifications, doom-scrolling, and the pressure to curate an online identity all heighten chronic stress, reduce real-world coping mechanisms, and reinforce avoidance behaviors.

As a result, we’ve outsourced so much of life’s effort to digital convenience that when inevitable hardships hit—whether a global crisis or a personal setback—we’re left unprepared. Instead of building resilience through direct experiences, we default to passive consumption, weakening our ability to sit with discomfort, solve problems, or navigate uncertainty.

On the surface, comfort seems like the antidote to stress. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s easier to order food than cook after a long day. Easier to scroll than pick up a book. Easier to follow GPS than navigate from memory. Easier to use AI than to write out an email yourself. But while these conveniences offer short-term relief, they erode the mental muscles we need to handle life’s tougher challenges.

Read More: Why You Shouldn’t Let AI Write Your Emails

Take technology. GPS has undeniably transformed how we travel, offering seamless navigation at our fingertips. But this convenience comes at a cost. A 2020 study published in Scientific Reports found that frequent GPS users struggle more with self-guided navigation, relying less on their brain’s natural wayfinding abilities. Over time, those who depended more on GPS showed a steeper decline in hippocampal-dependent spatial memory—suggesting that outsourcing navigation to technology may be weakening our internal maps. This suppression not only makes us prone to getting lost but also impairs memory and problem-solving skills, leading to broader cognitive decline. Similarly, heavy social media use—averaging between three to four hours daily for many young adults—has been linked to increased rates of depression and loneliness, as confirmed by a 2018 study in The Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology. According to American psychologist Gloria Mark’s research, constant digital distractions also contribute to a decline in attention spans, which have decreased from about 2.5 minutes to 47 seconds today, a 66% decrease over two decades.

Even our bodies aren’t spared. Sedentary lifestyles, fueled by convenience technologies, contribute to rising rates of obesity, heart disease, and mental health challenges. Over 30% of adults worldwide are insufficiently active, according to a 2024 study published in The Lancet Global Health, exacerbating these health issues. A 2024 systematic review in Frontiers Public Health confirmed that regular physical activity isn’t just good for the body, but is also crucial for emotional resilience.

The problem is that the very discomfort we avoid is often what strengthens us. Just as physical muscles grow through resistance, mental resilience builds through effort. Research shows that viewing stress as a challenge rather than a threat leads to better outcomes. This "eustress," or positive stress, aligns with the Yerkes-Dodson Law of Arousal and Performance, which suggests that moderate stress can enhance performance and adaptability. Neuroscience reveals that neuroplasticity—the brain’s ability to form new neural connections—is enhanced through challenging experiences. This adaptability is crucial for developing resilience. Chronic comfort, however, stifles this process, leading to a less adaptable and more fragile mind.

Nowhere is our discomfort with discomfort more evident than in our inability to tolerate boredom. It’s often dismissed as an annoyance, but research from the University of Central Lancashire found that boredom sparks creativity and problem-solving. When we resist the urge to scroll, we give our minds space to wander and innovate. This aligns with the concept of a growth mindset, as proposed by American psychologist Carol Dweck, which emphasizes that abilities can be developed through dedication and hard work, and sometimes, tolerating the boredom we experience.

Or consider physical discomfort. A 2021 study in Nature Metabolism showed that exercise promotes the release of irisin, a hormone linked to cognitive health and stress resilience. Controlled exposure to cold or heat stress, such as cold showers or sauna use may also further enhance physiological resilience by strengthening the body’s stress response systems.

To be clear, the solution isn’t to reject comfort entirely; it’s to balance it with intentional discomfort. Think of it as “microdosing hardship”—a series of small, manageable challenges that keep our mental and emotional muscles strong.

Here’s how we can start: by deliberately making life a little harder.

Wander without a destination—ditch the map and follow curiosity instead. Philosophers and creatives have long practiced flânerie, or aimlessness, as a way to unlock deep thinking and unexpected discoveries. Similarly, set aside one hour a day to do things the hard way: take the stairs, write by hand, or wash dishes manually. Small, intentional challenges train your brain to embrace effort rather than avoid it. Break free from constant comfort by micro-fasting—end showers with cold water, lowering the thermostat, or sitting in silence without distractions.

Resilience also comes from how we interact with the world. Try radical honesty—skip white lies and social niceties and say what you actually mean. Seek rejection as a practice: ask for that promotion, pitch a bold idea, or apply for something beyond your qualifications. The more rejection you face, the less fear it holds. Reignite creativity by making something useless—a haiku poem about your morning coffee, a sculpture of yourself, a short story intended for no audience. When every action isn't tied to productivity, your brain finds space for innovation.

Reclaim patience and resourcefulness by cooking from scratch instead of clicking “order now.” Go a month without buying anything new—repair, barter, or borrow instead. And whenever possible, tackle the hardest task first, whether it's a workout, a tough conversation, or deep work. The longer we delay discomfort, the more it controls us.

These small acts aren’t revolutionary—but they’re enough to reawaken the dormant resilience we’ve buried under layers of ease. Comfort, like sugar, is tempting but deceptive. It delivers an instant lift, only to leave us sluggish and unprepared in the long run. Discomfort, by contrast, is the crucible of growth, pushing us to confront uncertainty, adapt to challenges, and find meaning in effort.

Our world isn’t getting any easier. Climate change, economic instability, and mental health crises are already testing our collective resilience. Thankfully, resilience is not a trait you are born with, but a skill that can be developed through intentional practice.

So, the next time you feel the pull of ease, pause. Ask yourself: Is this momentary comfort helping me grow or is it keeping me stuck? Choosing discomfort isn’t easy, but sometimes, it’s worth it.