When Your Comfort Zone Isn’t Comfortable

Sometimes, the most surprising part of healing isn’t the work itself, it’s what comes after. After a MEMI session, when the tension has eased and calm begins to settle, the body can feel unsettled in a new way. The nervous system, conditioned for vigilance, may struggle to recognise rest, joy, or peace as safe. And that strange discomfort? It’s actually a sign that your system is learning a new definition of comfort.

Comfort zones are meant to be spaces of ease and security. But for someone living with unresolved trauma, they aren’t always comfortable; they’re just familiar. And what feels familiar isn’t always safe; in fact, it can be the opposite.

Trauma impacts the nervous system profoundly. When the brain and body encounter events that seem overwhelming, unpredictable, or threatening, they adapt to survive. The nervous system learns to seek safety in what is known. Even when the familiar is painful, chaotic, or unhealthy, it can still feel safer than venturing into the unfamiliar.

Over time, this leads to patterns that become automatic:

• Showing up where it hurts

• Repeating harmful behaviours

• Shrinking yourself to survive

• Tolerating the intolerable

Not because you want to, but because the familiar feels predictable, manageable, and, strangely, comfortable.

Take work-related stress as an example. Someone might endure exhausting workloads, constant pressure, difficult team dynamics, or an overzealous or competitive boss simply because the rhythm of overwork feels familiar. Team tension, even when harmful, can feel “safer” than the uncertainty of speaking up, leaving, or changing routines. The nervous system responds as though the familiar, even if painful, is less threatening than the unknown.

So, when life begins to soften, when fear starts to lift, and stillness becomes possible, it can feel deeply unsettling. Your logical mind says you should feel calm, but your body doesn’t agree. The quiet feels foreign; the feelings feel suspicious. This isn’t a failure or a setback. It’s simply your system orienting itself to the unfamiliar. Peace feels foreign because it hasn’t yet been lived in.

Healing isn’t just about releasing the pain of the past. It’s about learning that comfort doesn’t have to come with tension, that safety doesn’t require vigilance, and that calm isn’t a warning sign.

Leaning into this uncomfortable kind of “comfortable” is part of the journey. When rest feels wrong, quiet feels strange, or joy and happiness feel awry, pause before you pull away. This is your body learning a new definition of home. Sometimes, the most unsettling part of healing comes after the work itself, when peace, calm, or ease finally arrives. The nervous system, conditioned for tension and vigilance, may read these new states as unfamiliar and therefore unsafe. That uneasy feeling isn’t a setback; it’s a sign that your system is learning what real safety and comfort feel like.

Real comfort isn’t about what’s familiar, it’s about what’s true. And sometimes, finding that means stepping beyond the spaces you once thought you needed to survive.