What if you could get out of your comfort zone without going anywhere? 

Recently, one of my mentors said to me, “Terri, there is no growth in your comfort zone and no comfort in your growth zone.” 

Her words felt like a kaleidoscope that slid a memory from ten years before into sharper focus.  

It was one of those sideways raining nights in Vancouver and I felt closeted in my apartment. Stuck inside both because of the inclement weather and the bone-jarring fatigue of chemotherapy that made it difficult to get off the couch.

The buzzer rang and R swept in with the intoxicating and unpredictable energy that was his alone. He planted a perfunctory kiss on my lips and then breezed past me to the couch where I had been staring mindlessly at the TV, wishing for time to move from a crawl to a sprint. 

We had met a few months before at my Kick Cancer’s Ass party – scheduled between the shock of my diagnosis and the first surgery that marked the moment when cancer would become physically, instead of just emotionally, real. I never thought I would meet someone after my diagnosis and it seemed even more incredible to me that he would still be around. Even if he didn’t show up for some of the toughest days and I never quite knew where I stood with him, his presence instantly transported me out of the monotony of my illness. Our connection and conversations were electric.   

That night, he asked me if I would go back to my job in IT Recruitment, something I had previously been passionate about. 

I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I don’t think I want to, but I have no idea what else I might do.” 

His eyes grew wide with disbelief and I could feel his disappointment in the air between us. The weight of his opinion crushed me and I instantly wished I had said something “better.” 

“After everything you have been through, why would you choose to limit yourself?” 

His words stung and I felt an explosion of rage course through my limbs. How dare he make judgments about what I had been through? I looked away. 

“Terri, you could do anything. Why don’t you believe that?” 

R was a self-proclaimed hustler who had boarded a flight from East Africa just a few years before (with only a few dollars to his name) and found a way to build a business and create a new life in Canada. We could not have come from more different worlds. 

I grew up with a full life plan. University, career, family, success. I never thought I would – or could – take the risk of stepping off the well-traveled path I had envisioned for my life. 

His tone softened as he touched my chin to turn my face towards his. 

“Why don’t you believe you can build a different life for yourself?” 

Tears pricked my eyes and I could feel the lump gathering in my chest. 

“I don’t know.” I paused. I looked down at my hands and felt the weight of shame pass over me. “I feel like I never have the right answers during these conversations.”  

He then flashed me one of his infectious smiles and didn’t miss a beat as he said, “Terri, you’re a great analyzer, but you’re an absolute shit detective.” 

My eyes flew up to meet his, “What do you mean?”

He asked me his original question again. “Why don’t you believe you can build a different life for yourself? What’s that really about?” 

He explained that I spent so much time analyzing pros and cons and what I should or shouldn’t do, but I never allowed myself to get curious enough to peel back the layers to figure out what was behind my thoughts and behaviors. He said I needed to learn to be curious about myself. Instead of making judgments, I should become a detective and use the question – what’s that about – to uncover whatever belief or fear or obstacle lay underneath.

That conversation helped me realize that I had spent a career asking people questions, getting curious about what made them tick, helping them get new jobs, but it was often too uncomfortable to get curious about myself. 

Underneath every thought or reaction is a deeper layer waiting to be explored. Now, when I find myself feeling angry, frustrated, or triggered, I ask myself the question, “What’s that about?” I wait to see what surfaces and then ask the question again to see if there is a deeper layer still. This willingness to get curious about myself has opened doors I could never have imagined possible. 

A few months later, R and I parted ways, but this conversation stayed with me. Looking back, it was the beginning of what has become a lifelong commitment to personal growth and development. I wouldn’t choose to go back to who I was ten years ago. I now know that love and relationships shouldn’t make us feel ashamed or constantly on edge, but I will always be grateful for the way R ignited the spark that helped me step out of my comfort zone and into my growth zone.