Growing Hurts — But It’s a Sign You’re Becoming
- Oct 5, 2025
- 5 min read

Change hurts.
Not always in obvious ways, but often in ways that feel unbearable. It can start as a hum in the back of your head that grows into a pounding ache, keeping you awake at night and unfocused during the day. It can feel like your own skin is too tight, like you’re desperate to crawl out of yourself. Sometimes it builds into that overwhelming urge to grab your keys, drive into the dark, and scream just to release the pressure inside.
We think “growing pains” are just for kids. But they’re alive and well in adulthood, only now, it’s life stretching us into new versions of ourselves.
And just like when we were kids, the pain doesn’t mean something’s wrong. It means something’s shifting.
The question is: can we learn to listen before we try to run?
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When Discomfort Speaks
I’ve been sitting with my own transitions lately, and it’s a theme that keeps popping up with friends and clients too. Everyone’s uncomfortable. Everyone’s restless.
And what I’ve realized is, discomfort is not the enemy. Discomfort is information. It’s your body and mind saying:
✨ “Pay attention. Something is changing.”
The trick is learning to tell the difference between:
Discomfort because life handed you change you didn’t ask for.
Discomfort because something inside you knows it’s time to create change.
The problem is that most of us treat all discomfort like an emergency. We run from it, we numb it, we patch it with “fixes.” And in the process, we miss the chance to grow.
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Story One: The Separation That Wasn’t Quite a Separation
One of my clients found herself at the brink of ending her marriage a couple of years ago. The split was amicable; they had been part of each other's lives for two decades, and it was important to them that they protect that bond. She moved into a new apartment, ready and eager to start her next chapter.
Except the new apartment didn’t feel like home. Everything went wrong: the water pressure, the heating, the humming fridge. She began a cycle of repairs, and more than that, it was the loneliness, the new smells, the new sounds at night. The discomfort grew so loud she could hardly stand it.
When fumigation forced her to leave for a weekend, she went back to her ex’s place... and never left.
At first, it seemed like old comforts feeling fresh and new. But over time, they slipped back into old dynamics and routines. And layered onto that came therapy, journaling, endless conversations trying to fix their relationship. Doing all the “right” things but resisting the bigger truth: the relationship had irreversibly changed, and clinging to the past wasn’t going to bring it back.
Her discomfort was because change had happened to her. Instead of allowing herself to sit with it and let the new life take shape, she ran back to the familiar. And the more she resisted, the louder the discomfort became.
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Story Two: The Midlife Frenzy
A friend of mine is facing midlife shifts: hot flashes, brain fog, restless sleep. Instead of sitting with the reality of what her body is moving through, she’s drowning herself in solutions: vitamins, acupuncture, group programs, nutrition plans. Every week, there’s a new “fix.”
The truth is, many of those remedies are valid. But taken all at once, they’re overwhelming. Underneath her research and activity is something deeper: fear. The fear of aging. The fear of not knowing this new version of herself.
Her discomfort wasn’t just about change happening to her body, it was also about the change she was too afraid to face. And in trying to run from that discomfort, she only made it louder.
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The Lesson in Both Stories
Both women were fighting with their discomfort instead of listening to it.
And that’s where so many of us get stuck. We mistake discomfort as something to avoid, or something to “fix” quickly. But often, discomfort is the proof of growth. It’s the pain of stretching into a new shape.
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Healing Hurts Too
When I was a kid, I remember scraping my knee and watching my mom carefully clean and dress it. A few days later, when the scab started to form, it would itch terribly. I’d whimper to her that maybe something was wrong. She would patiently redress it, reassure me, and say:
“If it’s itching, it’s healing. That’s your body letting you know it’s alive and getting better.”
That memory comes back to me often when I think about the discomfort of change.
Because the same principle applies: sometimes the restless, itchy, unbearable feelings we experience in transition are not a sign that something is broken, they’re a sign that something is healing. They’re proof that life is moving through us, making us new.
It doesn’t mean it feels good. Just like that scab, it can feel unbearable and make us want to scratch it off, undo it, or start over. But often, that discomfort is the very evidence that we’re on the right path.
The thing is, we don’t get to skip the messy middle. Growth takes time, and it’s uncomfortable as hell. But there are ways to make that discomfort bearable while you grow.
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When You Just Want to Fix It
The pain of change can feel physical, like a headache that won’t let up or that crawling sensation under your skin. Sometimes it feels like you’re going to burst.
When you’re in the middle of it, try:
Ground it. Place your feet firmly on the floor. Breathe slowly and deeply. Longer exhales calm your nervous system. Name five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, and one you can taste.
Soothe it. Wrap yourself in a blanket, take a warm shower, listen to something comforting, and make a hot cuppa. Anything that makes you feel cozy, comfortable, and protected.
Name it. Say: “This is change. It feels bad now, but I’m okay. I’m safe. This is temporary.”
Park it. Keep a small notebook or phone note titled “Thoughts To Return To Later.” Whenever a thought won’t leave you alone, write it down and say, “I’ll come back to this when I feel calmer.” Most of the time, those thoughts lose their emotional charge later.
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Lean Into It
Once you’ve caught your breath, that’s where the real work begins. The slow, intentional part of growth.
For deeper resilience:
Build a daily anchor. Journaling, meditation, prayer, or walks that ground you. Remind yourself of what you are proud of.
Practice patience. Don’t rush to fix the discomfort with another change. Sometimes the bravest thing is to wait.
Reframe the fear. When dark thoughts arrive, ask: “Is this fear, or is this wisdom nudging me forward?”
Call in support. Surround yourself with people who encourage growth instead of keeping you stuck in the old.
Set boundaries. Give yourself the grace and space to grow through this transitional period.
Trust the bridge. This most difficult time of transition isn’t the end. It’s the middle of a bridge to something new that you can’t see yet. You don’t need to see the other side to keep walking. This phase is movement, not failure.
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When You Can’t Hear Yourself
Sometimes the noise inside and outside is too loud to sort through alone. That’s when a coach can help. Not to hand you all the answers, but to walk beside you as you find them. To remind you that discomfort is a teacher, not a threat.
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Final Thought
Growing pains don’t end in childhood. They just change form. And they follow us into every new chapter.
The next time you find yourself restless, sleepless, overwhelmed in the face of change, remember: you are not broken. You are growing.
And growth, in all its pain and messiness, is how we become.
👉 If you’re feeling stretched thin by change and want support, book a free discovery call with me. We’ll talk through where you are, what you need, and how to find your footing again.
Always with love,
~ La Fille d'Ennui



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