Here’s the thing:
Why We Voice Pain and Discomfort
We’ve all been in pain and discomfort, whether physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually, or often a combination of all four.
Because rarely does one sit alone. When we’re experiencing physical pain, it affects us mentally and emotionally too, and vice versa.
The thing that I’ve come to realise about any form of pain and discomfort is that it’s very hard not to voice it, not to do what most of us see as complaining about the pain or discomfort we’re in, myself included, by the way. Which poses a fundamental question…
Why? Why is this the case?
Why, when we’re in any form of pain or discomfort, do we feel the need to voice it and share it with the world, like, hey, world, look at me, I’m experiencing (enter pain) right now?
What’s that about?
It’s like we think we’ll get some sort of societal badge of honour for going through difficulty. Like it’s a good thing that we’re experiencing discomfort and, as most of us do, continue with and push through life anyway.
When we stop, even if it’s for a split moment, and truly think about it, we begin to see that voicing or complaining about what we’re experiencing, which most of us default to, doesn’t actually help relieve the pain itself.
I’ve experienced this with lower back issues, which, during a flare, can be quite intense. And it’s hard, as stated, not to voice and complain about it, whether it’s to a friend, my therapist, or often a close family member.
This is coming from someone who despises complaining and thinks heavily, maybe overly so, about voicing something just in case it comes across as complaining. I try to avoid it like the plague. Yet even I default to this behavioural trait when experiencing pain and discomfort.
It requires a huge amount of character to experience discomfort, no matter the type, without defaulting to voicing or complaining about what we’re going through, despite us all knowing, at least conceptually, that:
- None of us likes being around complainers, yet we do it anyway.
- The act of complaining doesn’t actually relieve the pain or discomfort itself, or solve any of our problems.
Yet it’s a trait that most of us default to, continue to do, or at the very least have done throughout our lives.
The Psychology Behind Complaining
This points to the idea that it’s in our nature, at least to some degree, although I recognise that some people are more prone to complaining than others. Therefore, it’s unrealistic to think we can fully outdo this default behavioural trait.
The trait probably exists for a few reasons. Otherwise, we wouldn’t do it. Remember, there is always some kind of payoff we get from the things we do, whether we consciously realise and want to accept it or not.
In this instance, I think it’s context-specific. Although we do tend to want to bring people down to meet us where we are. Again, it’s part of our nature: if we’re experiencing discomfort, we want people to experience what we’re experiencing, not from a malicious place, but from our innate need for connection with others. In these situations, unfortunately, that need isn’t driven by thriving together, but simply by getting through, which seemingly helps us feel better.
Sitting in the Mud vs. Complaining for Its Own Sake
Simon Sinek calls this sitting in the mud. It’s the act of supporting a struggling friend or family member by simply being present and acknowledging their pain, without immediately trying to fix their problems.
And sometimes that’s exactly what’s required, not just for our friends or loved ones, but for ourselves too, as we come to terms with what we’re experiencing.
Sometimes, though, we mistake this, an actual form of deep connection, for attention, and end up complaining for complaining’s sake, gathering the attention and sympathy of those around us, at least in the short term. This keeps us stuck, and this is where most of the negative effects of complaining arise.
When we stay in that mindset, feeling sorry for ourselves and not taking any action to help ourselves or improve our situation, we enter a perpetual negative feedback loop. This is a cycle that’s very hard to break, and it’s what I hate about complaining and why I try not to even get into it.
Breaking it requires consciousness, awareness, and developing more of an action-based and solution-focused mindset.
Look, I’m not saying everything is always good, and I’m not advocating for a toxic positivity approach, hiding pain and discomfort from friends and loved ones. All this leads to suffering in silence, and it does more damage to our mental well-being over the long term.
What I am saying is that complaining doesn’t lead anywhere good. Despite it being a behavioural trait we default to, it takes conscious effort and the development of one’s character not to default to such behaviour, if we want to navigate life and all its challenges with more ease, flow, and grace. There’s a difference between complaining and learning to sit in the mud, both with ourselves and with loved ones.
It’s also worth noting that pain is the body’s way of letting us know that something needs our attention. It’s an experience in itself, and like all experiences, there are valuable lessons we can learn and grow from.
This perspective, this mindset, can change how we approach pain and discomfort. From something inherently bad and to be avoided at all costs, to something that can help us create a better life on the other side of it, without fighting what we’re going through.
I’ve come to realise that fighting or resisting pain and discomfort causes a lot of distress and suffering that isn’t required, and actually ends up exaggerating it further.
Acceptance as an Antidote to Pain
Which brings me to an approach that has been working for me: acceptance, coming into a state of surrender.
This research supports this too. Studies have found that pain acceptance relates to less pain intensity and psychological distress, improved physical functioning, and greater overall mental wellbeing.
What Surrender Actually Means
Surrender isn’t giving up one’s sense of agency, the idea that this is happening to me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Rather, it’s about accepting: yes, I’m experiencing this pain or discomfort right now, whatever the pain is, and being open and curious about what it’s telling us, where it’s coming from, and how it actually feels.
This is a practice in itself, which not only develops and builds our character, rather than defaulting to complaining and feeling sorry for ourselves, but can also give us insight into the next steps we can take to help ourselves, cultivating our sense of agency and developing a greater bias towards action in the process.
Sometimes that action might not look like what we think action should look like, especially given how we perceive action in the modern world.
What Taking Action Really Looks Like
Take my example of lower back issues at the time of writing.
There is a physical element to it, for which I have a daily stretching and strengthening practice. There’s also a mental and emotional component: when I’m more stressed or suppressing emotions, a flare-up is soon on the cards.
I can do all the strengthening exercises in the world, which “taking action” may look like in its traditional sense, but if the root is suppressed emotions, those exercises alone aren’t going to help.
A less thought-of “action” could be spending five minutes truly feeling those feelings, perhaps in meditation or some form of solitude. While this might not look like action, it may be exactly what’s needed at that moment.
All of this is to say that when experiencing pain and discomfort, we seemingly default to voicing and complaining about it, almost sharing it with the world, like a badge of honour. With loved ones around us, supporting us through the challenging moments, this can be what’s needed at times. Beyond that, it’s unhelpful at best.
Instead, acceptance is some sort of antidote to this. We’re not fighting our pain or discomfort; we’re accepting it, open to what it’s trying to tell us.
This builds our character, rather than defaulting to behavioural traits like complaining. It requires us to give ourselves permission to truly feel what we’re feeling and experience what we’re going through.
By doing this and making it a practice, you become a stronger, wiser, and arguably better person on the other side.
Building Character Through Acceptance
This isn’t toxic positivity. This isn’t neglecting how we feel. On the contrary, it’s becoming in touch with how we truly feel, accepting it, and coming into a state of surrender, not the type where we give away our sense of personal agency, but the type where, through true acceptance and surrender, we strengthen it, and strengthen ourselves as a result.
Sure, all of this is just my hypothesis. But it’s rooted in personal experience and navigating life the best I can, especially when pain and discomfort strike.
As always:
Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t.
Key Takeaways on How to Navigate Pain Without Getting Stuck in It
- Action Isn’t Always Physical: Taking action might not mean pushing through with physical exercises. Sometimes, the most effective action is internal, like allowing yourself to feel suppressed emotions through meditation or quiet reflection.
- Voicing Pain is Natural: You often voice pain not to solve it, but from an innate need for connection. However, complaining doesn’t actually relieve the discomfort and can become a negative habit.
- Complaining vs. Connecting: There’s a key difference between complaining for attention, which keeps you stuck in a negative loop, and genuinely connecting with someone by letting them ‘sit in the mud’ with you for support.
- Acceptance is the Antidote: Instead of fighting or resisting pain, accepting it can lessen its intensity and your distress. This isn’t about giving up, but about acknowledging what you’re experiencing without judgement.
- Surrender Strengthens You: True surrender means accepting your situation and getting curious about what the pain is telling you. This practice builds your character and helps you identify the right actions to take.
FAQs for How to Navigate Pain Without Getting Stuck in It
Why do I always feel the need to complain when I’m in pain?
It’s a natural human trait. You often complain not out of malice, but from a deep-seated need for connection. You want others to understand what you’re going through. While this is normal, it’s helpful to recognise that the act of complaining itself rarely eases the pain.
Is it wrong to share my pain with others?
No, not at all. Sharing your struggles with loved ones is crucial for support and connection. The key is the intention. Sharing for support is healthy, but complaining just for attention can create a negative cycle that keeps you stuck and feeling sorry for yourself.
What does it mean to ‘accept’ pain without giving up?
Acceptance isn’t about resigning yourself to suffering. It’s about stopping the fight against the pain. You acknowledge its presence (‘Yes, I am feeling this right now’) and become curious about its message. This shifts your perspective from resistance to awareness, which actually strengthens your ability to handle it.
How can I take action against my pain if the usual methods don’t work?
Action can take many forms. If physical solutions aren’t working, consider the mental and emotional components. The most powerful ‘action’ might be sitting quietly to feel your emotions, meditating, or journaling. It’s about finding the root cause, not just treating the symptom.
How can I build my character when dealing with discomfort?
You build character by consciously choosing acceptance over the default habit of complaining. By allowing yourself to truly feel what you’re feeling and surrendering to the experience, you develop resilience and wisdom. This approach strengthens your personal agency rather than diminishing it.
