Comfort or Courage

“If I stay comfortable, my child stays fragile.”

Someone once asked me: “Why do you still choose discomfort when you don’t have to?”

That wasn’t ambition. That was protection.

Discomfort isn’t self-inflicted pain. It’s a legacy in progress.
Quiet. Observed. Absorbed.

Children don’t learn grit from advice. They learn it by watching you face pain without panic.

My son watched me battle a significant medical condition: Fear. Setbacks. Silence.
But he also saw something else. I showed up. I adapted. I healed.

And now, when life gets hard,
He doesn’t fold. He leans in.
Not because he was told.
But because he had a template.

If all they witness is comfort,
Don’t be surprised when challenge terrifies them.
They weren’t trained to endure.
They were conditioned to flinch.

Strength doesn’t transfer through intention.
It transfers through action.
And when we stop modeling it,
It doesn’t vanish overnight.
It fades: slow, silent, certain.

So no, I don’t choose discomfort to prove a point.
I choose it because it becomes his inheritance.

Comfort is a cage.
Discomfort is a forge.
Grit is passed through fire, not words.

Whether you’re raising a child or leading a team,
What you endure silently becomes someone else’s strength.

What are they absorbing from you? 
Comfort or Courage?