I recently resumed walking. Ok I started back walking day before yesterday. Ha! And I’ve been sharply reminded of the nagging pain that’s been tagging along for years. A physical therapist once told me it was my IT band — tight, inflamed, aggravated by everything from sitting too much to trying to move again after months of not doing enough. She gave me stretches, clear instructions, and hope. And yet… here I am. Fully aware. Still not doing them. Living with pain I’ve already been told is fixable. Pain I could release, but choose — daily — not to.

The pain of course is not excruciating. It’s intermittent and my body has adjusted to living with it.

When the Pain We Know Becomes a Habit

The body is honest long before the mind is. It speaks in signals, aches, stiffness — invitations to move differently, to tend, to build new rhythms. Yet somehow I’ve let this IT band pain become a quiet roommate in my life. Not loud enough to stop me entirely. Just loud enough to remind me what I’m still choosing not to address.

It’s funny — in that not funny kind of way — how we can know exactly where the relief is, and still find ways to avoid it. It’s not a mystery. It’s not hidden. The stretches are there. The foam roller is right where I left it. The knowledge is intact. It’s the decision that isn’t.

We don’t always see it as a choice, but it is — every day, I am choosing to live with something I could, with some patience and discipline, probably release.

We Don’t Just Tolerate Pain — We Normalize It

The more familiar the pain becomes, the less urgency it holds. What started as “something is wrong” slowly morphs into “this is just how I am.” We shape our days around tight hips, low energy, poor sleep, and every story we tell about how “normal” it is to move through life like this.

That’s the part that gets me: the shifting of the threshold. We no longer notice the weight of what we’ve adjusted to.

Whether it’s physical pain, financial strain, creative stuckness, or emotional numbness — we settle. Not because we like it. But because it’s familiar. Familiarity can feel safer than possibility. The stretch is unknown. The change is unpredictable. And for many of us, the pain is predictable enough to live with.

Even when it’s slowly undermining the life we say we want.

The Bell Curve of Pain (and Why Most of
Us Stay in the Middle)

Saul Gellerman, in his work on motivation, talked about this bell-shaped curve that shows how most people behave at work:

• At one end, you have the bare minimum folks — the ones who sabotage, who dodge responsibility.
• At the other, you have the driven few — those who push, who innovate, who transform.

But the bulk? They live in the middle — not failing, not soaring.
Just… getting by.

That bell curve doesn’t only apply to work. It applies to how we live in relation to our pain.

Some people collapse under it — unable or unwilling to do anything.
Some radically shift — change their diets, leave the job, seek therapy, rebuild their habits from scratch. But most?

Most of us stay right there in the wide center — managing the pain just enough to function, but not enough to free ourselves from it.

• We normalize what needs intervention.
• We adjust to what needs untangling.
• We stay familiar with what’s limiting us and call it “just life.”

And the scariest part is: We don’t even realize how much we’ve accepted.

What Are We Protecting When We Stay Stuck?

This is the uncomfortable question underneath it all.

Because pain — even the kind we can fix — always has a function. It gives us somewhere to hide. It offers a ready-made excuse for why we aren’t moving, trying, risking, or changing. It keeps us just busy enough managing discomfort to avoid confronting whatever might lie under the surface of real effort.

It’s easier to say, “I can’t walk far because of the pain,” than it is to admit, “I’m afraid of who I might become if I’m fully well.”

It’s easier to say, “I don’t have consistent clients yet,” than to explore the discomfort of being fully visible, fully committed, fully demand-worthy in our business.

The pain becomes a buffer. A story. Something we can point to and say, “This is why things aren’t different yet.”

But underneath that is a much quieter truth:

• What would happen if the pain went away?
• Who would we have to be without the excuse?
• What responsibility would we no longer be able to outrun?

That question is often scarier than the pain itself.

The Crossroads Isn’t an Event — It’s a Daily Choice

We tend to think of crossroads as those big, dramatic life shifts — full of tension, tears, adrenaline, and clarity. But the truth is far less cinematic and far more confronting: most crossroads aren’t events. They are our daily choices.

• It’s that moment when the foam roller sits there, and you don’t use for back pain relief
• When you reach for what fills you instead of what heals you.
• When you choose silence over visibility.
• When you default to “later,” instead of leaning into now.

We live inside the echo of our choices long before the outcomes ever show up.

The question isn’t, “When will my moment come?” It’s: “What moment am I shaping with the choice I’m making right now?”

We’re not waiting for a big break. We’re waiting for permission to interrupt our own patterns. And that permission doesn’t come from fate, from clarity, or from crisis. It comes from the next choice you make — in the next minute.

Strategic Reflection Prompt

1. What pain have you accepted as “normal,” and in what ways is it protecting you from the life you say you want?
2. What truth have you been unwilling to face beneath your patterns?

About Giselle

I’m Giselle Hudson — writer, possibility thinker, musician, Organization & People Development Sensemaker™, and MCODE Legacy Coach. I help leaders and soul-driven professionals decode the deeper patterns shaping their business, work, identities, and results especially when it look like a performance issue but it’s really misalignment in disguise.

If something in your life or business feels off and you can’t quite name it, message me. Sometimes one conversation is all it takes to see what’s really going on.