As someone who has blogged since the early 2000s, I have enjoyed looking back at some of my older (now unpublished) stories. Without intention, some read like letters to my future self. Others are reminders of just how naive I used to be. Recently, I came across a blog written eight years ago about comfort. It was written just before my birthday that year, specifically as I was approaching a new decade.

It mentioned that my twenties were a blur for no reason other than I was young, confused, and scared. My thirties, for the most part, were documented as far more enjoyable. I gained wisdom and confidence that I desperately needed. Today, I can share that my forties have been an emotional journey so far –– spent identifying priorities, setting boundaries, and trying to learn what true self care is.

Eight years ago when I first blogged about comfort, I was struggling to find joy in celebrating my birthday. It was the first time I can recall publicly professing that I “felt old.” Little did I know that I would experience the death of my mother and the unexpected death of my brother (who was also in his 40s), all during a worldwide pandemic four years ago, and “feeling old” would become the least of my emotions.

A friend shared this quote with me back in 2016, which sparked my original blog post.

At the time, I interpreted the quote as encouragement to stop being as complacent as I felt in my thirties. I had even proclaimed, “Although I can’t physically get younger, I can still reverse the uneasiness of growing “old and unhealthy” by pushing myself beyond my normal limits.” Yikes! I feel certain I was hyper-focused on my weight or something. I also recall having a back injury that lasted a really long time, which weirdly led to the diagnosis of my food allergies. What I can assure you is that the past me had no idea that pushing myself [physically] beyond my normal limits was the last thing future me needed.

“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone” really isn’t a great motivational quote. I understand the concept behind the quote. I wholeheartedly agree that it takes effort to reach goals and aspirations. Yet, working hard and pushing the limits can be highly overrated. And if we truly pick apart the quote, life doesn’t begin based on your level of comfort (i.e., confidence, lack of pain, or freedom from stress). If anything, I would argue that life brings you just as much pain and stress as it does peace and happiness.

What the last eight years have taught me is that life happens and we need to control the awareness of it. Perhaps the quote was trying to capture just that –– the beginning of the awareness of life. Maybe it is in the uncomfortable experiences that we become more aware of our lives? I think there is truth in that. Life beginning when comfort ends? I think that’s a load of bull…

I have learned that comfort, or the ending of it, isn’t controlled by how far I push my own limits. Hustle culture just to proclaim busyness is the worst way to trick yourself into avoiding emotions and ignoring boundaries. Self care is not monthly pedicures or reading a certain number of books. Life (identified as magic in the image above) happens regardless of comfort levels. There will be times when we feel comfortable –– and that is okay!

Life isn’t a guaranteed amount of years that begins on the day we choose to willingly find discomfort in an effort to strive for something we want. It is the period of time we’re given to deal with all of the things that come our way. The amazing vacation that you took to a destination of your dreams, the extra weight you gained during a stressful time, the achievement you’ve worked hard to earn, the loss you’re dealing with right now –– being aware that life brings it all, and learning how to process the emotions that come with life, is more valuable than comfort-ability.

My worries have little to do now with “feeling old” anymore. I believe feeling old is a gift (because it means I have learned to process the comfort and discomfort of life) and growing old is a blessing. Neither require me to push my limits. Instead, life gives me permission to sit and rest, reflect deeply, work diligently, be intentional and aware, and celebrate daily. My comfort zone and discomfort zone intersect beautifully in my life that began 48 years ago. I am grateful that the past four years helped me to be intentional and aware of how I live it.

I was not compensated for this post, and it contains no affiliate links. All opinions are my own and not influenced in any way.