The Invitation Hidden in the Struggle
- bmorrissey31
- Oct 30
- 3 min read

Growth doesn’t always look graceful.
In fact, it usually doesn’t.
Sometimes it’s loud, messy, and uncomfortable, like the sound of your own resistance echoing back at you. But what if the discomfort we try to escape is actually the spark of expansion? What if the hard moments are portals, not problems?
For years, I thought growth came from doing — reading the books, attending leadership programs, stacking certifications, checking boxes, and learning new technical skills. (Toastmasters? Big fan. Mortgage banking classes on hedging and servicing rights? I’ve done them all.) Those kinds of learning grow our intellect. But the deeper, more powerful kind of growth, the kind that changes our lives and who we are at the core, doesn’t happen in a classroom. It happens in the fire. It’s the heart of growth.
It happens when life gets messy.
When you fail.
When your heart breaks.
When you face what you’ve been avoiding.
That’s the real curriculum.
That’s the heart work.
💔 Facing the Hard Stuff
I wasn’t raised knowing how to face hard things.
I was taught how to avoid them.
My dad, whom I love dearly, was an expert at avoidance. When conflict showed up, he’d retreat to his office, close the door, and bury himself in work. My mom, on the other hand, was unpredictable — a volatile mix of bipolar energy and alcohol. So I learned early on how to sense tension before words were even spoken, how to shrink, smooth things over ( a people pleaser was born), or disappear to stay safe.
And disappear I did!! Very often, I would wander into the forest near our home when things got tough and tense. Nature became my refuge, the one place that felt stable, the one place I could breathe. And if I’m being honest, it’s still where I go when things get tough. My nervous system remembers: run to the trees.
But that same pattern showed up everywhere, in my marriage, my career, my leadership. When things got uncomfortable, I’d withdraw, justify, or distract myself with busyness. Anything to avoid sitting in the discomfort.
One of my more humbling leadership lessons came from a small (but big) mistake. I once texted a client private internal information that was absolutely not meant for them. The moment I hit send, I threw my phone across the room, as if that would somehow erase it. (It didn’t.) What I’ve learned since is that those moments — the ones that make your stomach drop — are invitations. They’re mirrors showing us where we’re still afraid, where we still run, and where we’re being asked to expand.
A Doorway to Expansion
Here’s what I know now:
Life doesn’t punish us with problems.
It teaches us through them, if we let it.
The challenges that keep coming back — the conflicts, the patterns, the discomfort — are life’s way of saying, “You’re ready to grow through this now.”
We resist because it’s hard. Because it requires honesty. Because it’s humbling. But once we stop running, something miraculous happens: the pain becomes purpose, the contraction becomes creation, and the very thing we feared becomes the key to our next level of evolution.
Leadership… real leadership is born in those moments.Not when everything is smooth, but when it isn’t.Not when you know the answers, but when you’re willing to stay open to learning.
So the next time life feels hard or uncomfortable, try whispering this truth to yourself:
This challenge is an expansion waiting to happen.
Trust that you are being stretched for a reason and that the expansion will be worth it.
With love, truth, and growth,




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