You Can Do the Hard Things: The Rewards of Facing What Matters
Updated: Oct 23

What if the difficult thing you have been avoiding holds a reward you haven't yet considered?
What a wonderful morning.
It is an interesting thought to wake up with after a particularly difficult day, yet that is exactly how I feel.
Yesterday brought some unexpected challenges within my family. There were important decisions to make, uncomfortable conversations to have and moments when I wished someone could simply tell me what to do.
Some of the questions I needed to ask were questions I had never considered before. I knew they mattered, but I also knew the answers might be difficult to hear.
For a moment, I could feel the temptation to leave them for another day. Perhaps the situation would improve. Perhaps someone else would have the answers. Perhaps I would feel more prepared tomorrow.
There were perfectly understandable reasons to wait.
But I also knew that waiting wouldn't necessarily give me the information I needed.
So I asked the questions. I listened to the answers. I spoke with the people who needed to be involved, and we worked through what we could, one decision at a time.
By the end of the day, I was tired. Some things had been addressed, while others still needed attention. I certainly didn't have everything worked out.
Yet when I woke up this morning, I felt surprisingly good.
I began thinking about what I had done rather than everything that remained uncertain.
I had faced the difficult conversations. I had made decisions with the information available. I had done the best I could.
And we had managed to make the most of a difficult day.
I had done the hard things.
The circumstances hadn't necessarily changed overnight. What had changed was how I felt about my ability to handle them.
That realisation stayed with me.
Later, during today's group coaching session, we were talking about showing up and being courageous. One participant shared that she had finally made a difficult decision and had an important conversation with someone close to her.
Afterwards, she noticed that things started falling into place.
Her experience was different from mine, yet something about it felt familiar.
We had both faced situations that required us to move through discomfort, and we had both experienced something valuable afterwards.
It made me wonder how often we think about the discomfort involved in doing something difficult without giving equal consideration to what we might gain from doing it.
The difficult moments had passed, but the rewards of facing them were still with us.
Situation One: Choosing to Avoid the Hard Thing
Imagine there is an important conversation you need to have with someone you care about.
Something has been troubling you for a while. Perhaps you are unhappy about a decision, worried about a situation or struggling with an expectation that is no longer working for you.
You know the conversation matters, but you can also imagine how uncomfortable it might become.
The other person could be upset. You might disagree. You might hear something you are not ready to hear.
So you decide to leave it for now.
And that choice offers something valuable.
You get to avoid the immediate discomfort. You give yourself more time to think, and you preserve the situation as it is.
Sometimes those benefits are exactly what you need. A little distance can help emotions settle, allow time for preparation and prevent a difficult situation from becoming unnecessarily complicated.
But imagine that the conversation remains important and each time you consider having it, you decide to wait again.
Days become weeks.
You find yourself thinking about it while driving, making dinner or trying to fall asleep. You rehearse what you might say, imagine how the other person could respond and reconsider whether it is worth raising at all.
The conversation hasn't happened, yet it continues occupying your attention.
And this is where I think it becomes interesting.
The very things we believe avoidance is giving us may not be giving us quite what we expected.
First, avoiding discomfort may actually be creating more of it.
You don't have to experience the discomfort of the conversation today, which brings immediate relief.
But the issue remains unresolved.
Each time it returns to your thoughts, you experience another round of anticipation. You imagine possible outcomes, reconsider your options and continue wondering what might happen.
The temporary relief may come with an ongoing cost.
What started as a way to feel more comfortable can become something that repeatedly interrupts your peace of mind.
Second, giving yourself more time may not be giving you more clarity.
Waiting can be useful when we need information, preparation or support.
But there is a difference between using time to prepare and using time to postpone.
If nothing new is happening during that time, we may simply be revisiting the same assumptions.
We can spend weeks thinking about what someone might say without learning what they actually think.
Time passes, but our understanding remains much the same.
Third, protecting the current situation may also be preventing it from improving.
Perhaps you want to preserve a relationship or avoid creating unnecessary conflict.
Those are understandable concerns.
Yet if something important remains unspoken, the relationship may already be carrying the effects of that unresolved issue.
You might begin avoiding particular topics, changing your expectations or adjusting your behaviour to prevent discomfort.
The relationship continues, but the circumstances you hoped would improve may remain unchanged.
Psychologist Michelle Craske and her colleagues explored how facing feared situations can create new learning in their research on exposure therapy and inhibitory learning.
Their work helps explain why avoidance can maintain fear. When we continually stay away from situations we anticipate will be distressing, we may miss opportunities to discover what actually happens and what we can manage.
Carefully approaching an appropriate challenge can provide new experiences that change our expectations.
Although this research specifically concerns anxiety treatment, I find the learning process useful when considering everyday behaviour.
When we continually avoid something because of what we imagine might happen, our predictions can remain untested.
We may feel protected from the immediate experience while still carrying the uncertainty surrounding it.
And sometimes we don't recognise how much of our behaviour has become organised around keeping that discomfort away.
Avoidance can make the moment easier while allowing the problem to become a permanent part of our lives.
Situation Two: Choosing to Face the Hard Thing
Now imagine the same circumstances.
The conversation still matters. You still don't know how the other person will respond, and you still have reasons to feel uncomfortable.
This time, you decide to approach it.
You consider what you want to communicate, prepare as thoughtfully as you can and choose an appropriate moment.
Then you begin.
There are genuine reasons why this choice might be less appealing.
You may experience discomfort. You might discover something you didn't want to know. And once the conversation has happened, you may have additional responsibilities to manage.
Those possibilities deserve consideration.
Yet there are other ways of looking at each one.
First, the discomfort may be shorter than the time you have already spent anticipating it.
You might feel nervous as the conversation begins. Your emotions could rise, and there may be moments when you struggle to find the right words.
But now you are working with a real experience rather than imagining endless possibilities.
The conversation may last only a few minutes, or perhaps much longer.
Once it has happened, you no longer need to spend the same energy anticipating that particular conversation.
Even if the situation remains difficult, the uncertainty surrounding whether you will have the conversation has been resolved.
Second, hearing something difficult may give you the information you need.
Perhaps the other person disagrees with you.
Maybe they reveal something that changes your understanding of the situation.
You might discover that your assumptions were inaccurate, or that the problem is more complicated than you realised.
That information may initially feel uncomfortable.
But it can also create options that weren't available when you were working from assumptions.
Now you have something to respond to.
You can ask questions, consider different perspectives and make decisions based on what is actually happening.
Third, additional responsibilities may create opportunities for meaningful change.
Once a difficult situation has been acknowledged, there may be decisions to make, boundaries to establish or practical steps to take.
That can require effort.
But those responsibilities may also be the very actions that allow circumstances to improve.
An uncomfortable conversation might lead to a clearer agreement. A difficult decision could create a new opportunity. Asking for help might reveal support you didn't realise was available.
The effort involved in responding to a problem can become part of what helps resolve it.
And there is another reward that is easy to overlook.
You gain experience of yourself doing something difficult.
This is where psychologist Albert Bandura's research on self-efficacy becomes particularly relevant.
Bandura explored how our belief in our ability to manage situations influences the actions we are willing to take, the effort we invest and how we respond to challenges.
He identified successful experiences of navigating challenges, often called mastery experiences, as an important source of self-efficacy.
In everyday terms, our confidence in our capability can grow through experience.
We may understand how to prepare for a difficult conversation, but it is through having those conversations that we practise the skills involved.
We may believe we can make decisions, but it is through making them and responding to the consequences that we develop greater trust in our judgment.
Not every attempt will succeed, and some experiences will reveal skills we still need to develop. Yet each thoughtful attempt can provide information that helps us become more capable.
Courage often comes before confidence.
We take action while we are uncertain, then learn from what happens.
The discomfort of facing something difficult may be temporary, but the capability we develop can stay with us.
Two Choices. What Would You Choose?
Imagine standing at the bottom of a mountain.
The morning air is cool, and a walking track winds upwards through the trees. Somewhere near the summit is a lookout, although you cannot see it from where you are standing.
You have two options.
You could stay where you are.
There is a comfortable place to sit, shade from the trees and a lovely view across the surrounding countryside.
You could relax, enjoy the fresh air and appreciate everything already available to you.
There is a reward in staying.
Or you could begin climbing.
The track starts gently, then becomes steeper. The ground is uneven, your breathing quickens and your legs begin to tire.
You stop occasionally to rest, take a drink and consider the distance ahead.
There is effort involved, and no guarantee that the view will be everything you imagined.
But each section of the climb reveals something you couldn't see from below.
The landscape opens, the valley stretches further into the distance and you begin discovering what the journey requires of you.
There is a potential reward in climbing, too.
Both choices offer something worthwhile.
Staying provides comfort, rest and enjoyment. Climbing offers the possibility of new experiences, different perspectives and the satisfaction of meeting a challenge.
But now consider what isn't immediately obvious.
By staying, you might enjoy a beautiful morning without exerting yourself. You might also miss an experience that would have brought you something extraordinary.
By climbing, you might discover a breathtaking view. You might also find that the climb is more demanding than expected or that the reward is different from what you imagined.
Neither choice guarantees a particular outcome.
And the conditions matter.
Your health, preparation, the weather and the support available may influence which option makes sense.
Sometimes staying is a thoughtful decision. Sometimes climbing is worth the effort.
The important distinction is that the choice can be made with an understanding of what each option offers and what it may cost.
The same principle applies to difficult conversations and decisions.
Our choices reveal what we value, what we believe and what we are trying to protect.
Behaviour is the clue, not the conclusion.
When we understand what a particular choice is helping us manage, we can consider whether that behaviour continues to support the future we want to create.
Every choice gives you something. The question is whether it gives you what you really want.
The Rewards We Sometimes Overlook
Imagine reaching the mountain lookout.
You turn towards the valley and discover a view that wasn't visible from the bottom.
The sunlight catches the water, distant mountains rise beyond the trees and the winding track reveals just how far you have travelled.
Your legs are tired. Your breathing is still settling.
But now you have something you didn't have before.
Perspective.
You have seen the landscape from another position. You have experienced the climb and discovered more about the effort, preparation and capability it required.
Perhaps the view is the reward you wanted.
Perhaps the greater reward is recognising what you were capable of doing.
That is what I found myself appreciating this morning.
Yesterday had involved difficult conversations and decisions. The circumstances hadn't necessarily changed overnight, but I had gained relief, clarity and a stronger sense of my ability to handle what was happening.
I could appreciate what I had accomplished without needing every uncertainty to be resolved.
My group coaching participant experienced something similar.
After making a difficult decision and having an important conversation, she noticed that things began falling into place.
Her reward included a sense of movement.
Mine included relief, clarity and a deeper appreciation of what I was capable of handling.
Our circumstances were different, and so were our rewards.
But both experiences revealed something that is easy to overlook when we are anticipating difficulty.
The outcome might improve. We might gain relief, information or support. We might develop skills that make the next challenge easier to manage.
Sometimes the reward is simply recognising that we have faced something that once seemed beyond us.
Sometimes the greatest reward is discovering that the hard thing no longer has the same hold over you.
Begin From Here
In my previous article, Choosing What Comes Next, I explored how deciding what we want to experience gives our choices direction.
One of the coaching exercises I learned through Chris Duncan's Magnetic Mind program is called the Double Bubble. It encourages us to examine the advantages and disadvantages of different choices and reconsider the assumptions influencing our decisions.
I find it particularly useful because we can become so focused on what a choice might cost us that we overlook what it could give us.
Like the mountain, we may not be able to see the full reward of a difficult experience from where we are standing. We can consider our options, prepare for what lies ahead and choose whether the next step is worth taking.
And sometimes, the thing we have been reluctant to face is the very thing that makes something better possible.
When you do the hard things, you open yourself to rewards that avoidance could never give you.

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