We Go Together: The Dance Between Safety and Discomfort
I’ve been really wanting to learn to dance. And for at least a year, I’ve been signing up for (and then cancelling) intro to hip hop classes. Every time, I’d talk myself out of it: too busy, not the right shoes, maybe next week.
Well, a few weeks ago, I finally went. And, let’s just say…it was not great.
I felt completely lost. My brain kept screaming, “You don’t know what you’re doing; you look ridiculous,” while my body froze. And even though I knew intellectually that nobody cared what I was doing, I felt this deep wave of shame and deficiency, and I could feel myself about to cry. I seriously contemplated leaving when a fellow dancer, at least twenty years my junior, took my hand and said, “We go together.”
A total stranger, watching me fail spectacularly, looked me dead in the eyes and wordlessly said, you clearly suck, and you still belong here.
My body (or more specifically, my amygdala) was convinced I was unsafe and was sending loud ‘abort mission’ signals. But I wasn’t unsafe; I was uncomfortable.
That’s what this month’s newsletter is about: we’ve made comfort the new safety, and it’s messing with our ability to grow, connect, and lead.
By the way, I was uncomfortable writing this newsletter because my brain was telling me it wasn’t safe to take a stance on safety. That’s not true; it is safe, it’s just deeply uncomfortable and a little bit scary.
Safety vs Comfort
In today’s world, we’ve elevated safety to a moral imperative. While in many ways that’s led to real progress, it’s also created an environment where discomfort feels intolerable.
I’m not an expert on trauma, and many people have experienced real harm. The line between what’s uncomfortable and what’s genuinely dangerous can blur, especially when past experiences make us perceive threats where there might not be one. That’s not the kind of safety I’m talking about here. I’m addressing a different problem: a cultural and workplace habit of confusing comfort with safety.
Let’s define a few things:
Safety: Protection from harm, danger, or injury.
Comfort: A state of ease, free from pain or constraint.
Here’s how you can tell the difference:
Unsafe: You’re being yelled at, threatened, touched, or discriminated against. There’s a power imbalance being exploited. You’re at risk of harm or humiliation.
Uncomfortable: You’re receiving feedback, being challenged, or trying something new. You’re being asked to be vulnerable. You’re on the cusp of growth.
When we mistake discomfort for danger, we don’t grow, we don’t connect, and we don’t create.
Discomfort ≠ Danger
If you work in hospitality, you’ve seen this play out:
A manager pulls a bartender aside to give feedback that their tone with guests has been curt. The bartender stiffens, says, “This feels unsafe,” and walks away. The manager, afraid of overstepping, drops it. The behavior doesn’t change, and the team starts walking on eggshells.
Discomfort (being given feedback) got mistaken for danger (being attacked).
Or during lineup, a chef reminds the team that lateness has consequences. A line cook mutters, “This place is toxic.”
The language of safety gets weaponized to avoid accountability.
Safety shouldn’t mean the absence of standards. It’s not about making everyone feel good, but rather helping everyone do good work (together, with respect and accountability).
Psychological Safety Isn’t the Same as Comfort
Amy Edmondson, who popularized the term "psychological safety," defines it as
“A belief that one will not be punished or humiliated for speaking up with ideas, questions, concerns, or mistakes.”
Notice what’s not in there: the promise that you’ll feel good all the time. Psychological safety isn’t the absence of discomfort; it’s knowing you are still valued even if you make a mistake or no one likes your idea.
I think of it like a good trainer at the gym: they won’t let you get injured, but you’ll definitely be making some weird faces and questioning whether you’ll ever walk again.
Safety allows discomfort. Comfort doesn’t guarantee safety.
A Leader’s Checklist: Building Safety for Growth
If you lead people, whether it’s a restaurant team, a kitchen line, or a corporate office, your job isn’t to keep everyone comfortable. It’s to help them stretch safely.
Here’s how to start:
Pause. Don’t Argue or Defend
“Thank you for telling me that. Can you help me understand what specifically felt unsafe?”
Clarify
Are we talking about safety (harm, discrimination, humiliation) or discomfort (feedback, accountability, change)?
Normalize Both
“I hear that this was uncomfortable for you, and I want to make sure we look at what’s behind that. Do you feel you were in danger, or that the conversation was hard emotionally?”
If it’s unsafe, act immediately:
Stop the behavior.
Escalate or report if necessary.
Follow up with care.
If it’s uncomfortable, stay with it:
Validate the emotion.
Reframe: “My goal isn’t to shame you; it’s to help you grow.”
Model calm: breathe, soften tone, and slow pace.
End with partnership: “How can we move through this together?”
Reflect afterward:
Was my tone abrupt or unclear?
Did I give feedback privately and directly?
Have I built enough trust for hard conversations to land?
This isn’t self-blame. It’s leadership hygiene.
How to Know You’re Building Actual Safety (Not Comfort)
You can tell you’re doing it right when you start seeing these patterns:
People disagree respectfully, and ideas get stronger.
Mistakes are brought up early instead of hidden.
Questions replace silence.
Feedback flows up, down, and sideways.
Innovation happens, even when it’s messy.
That’s a culture that can tolerate tension (the productive kind that makes you better).
Comfortable Being Uncomfortable
I went back to that dance class the next week, and I brought my new dance bestie a small bouquet of flowers to say thanks. If you read last month’s newsletter, you know that kindness is a core value of mine, so that experience was profoundly meaningful to me.
I’ve now been to four classes in a row, and I’m still really, really bad, but something’s shifted: I’m not going just to learn to dance. I’m showing up to put my money where my mouth is and to get myself more comfortable being uncomfortable.
So this month, when your brain yells “unsafe!” pause and ask, “Am I actually in danger, or just uncomfortable?”
If it’s the latter, take a breath and stay in it. I’m right there with you (still dancing and desperately trying to find the rhythm).
