Truth > Comfort

Editor’s note: This post will continue to evolve as I do.

Welcome back, curious hearts and growing souls. Today’s the final post in the Soft Starts series, and if you’ve been following along, you already know, this series wasn’t just about slowing down. It was about getting honest with yourself, reflecting deeply, and choosing to build from a place that actually feels like you.

We started with “Reflect, Then Redirect,” where I looked at how clarity makes space for new direction. Then came “A Kinder Way to Reflect,” a reminder that growth doesn’t have to come from self-criticism. Next, came “What Consistency Really Means to Me Now” which gets into what it actually looks like to keep showing up for yourself, not just for some perfect version of the process. And now it’s “Truth > Comfort.”

Before we get straight into it, it’s great having you here. It shows you care about doing the inner work, bit by bit, layer by layer. So, let’s complete this chapter the same way we started with a grounded foundation, honesty, and open mindset of what’s next to come.

As we begin, let’s dig deeper within ourselves. Choosing uncomfortable conversations over comfort. Transparency over stability. And self-honesty over image, especially in a world that often rewards the highlight reel over the honest process. In today’s digital landscape, it can feel safer to curate happiness than to confront what’s real. But choosing truth over comfort means letting go of the need to seem okay all the time, and instead be willing to face what actually is, because that’s where real growth begins.

And that kind of growth doesn’t come from staying comfortable. It comes from choosing truth, even when it unsettles us. In a world that constantly pushes us to look like we’ve got it all together, it takes real courage to be honest, especially with ourselves. But when we stop worrying about what others think of us and start reflecting on what we genuinely want out of life, we create space to change. Not to shame who we’ve been, but to step more fully into who we’re becoming. That’s the work. That’s the shift.

As the saying goes, “The truth often hurts,” not just us, but our perspectives of the world and those around us. It can shake what we thought was certain, challenge the way we’ve been moving through life, and even disrupt the comfort of familiar patterns. Except that discomfort isn’t a sign to retreat, it’s an invitation. An opening to see more clearly, choose more intentionally, and live more honestly.

No one sets out to hurt someone, especially on purpose. But the truth is, we all do. Not because we’re careless, but because we’re human. We move through life with our own expectations, hopes, and needs, and sometimes those don’t align with someone else’s. That isn’t inherently wrong. And neither is feeling hurt or disappointed by our experiences. What creates distance isn’t the feeling itself, it’s the lack of communication around it. When we choose not to speak on what caused pain or confusion, we don’t just protect ourselves, we shut others out. And in doing so, we take away the possibility of clarity, connection, and repair.

I don’t know if you’ve been there, but I’ve had moments where I opened up and shared honestly, hoping it would bring me closer to someone. Instead, I was met with distance. The cold shoulder. Then, things got awkward. And for a while, I wondered if I just cared too much. But I’ve come to realize that wanting deeper connections isn’t a weakness, it’s part of growing. I ask questions, sometimes playful and sometimes heavy because I value depth. I crave spaces where people can be their true, authentic selves without needing to shrink or having to pretend. Perhaps part of your growth, like mine, is learning how to show up honestly while creating space for others to do the same. That’s not just personal but relational. It’s where real change starts.

When someone or something truly matters, you don’t want to be left guessing, you want the truth. You want to understand what’s going on beneath the surface, especially if something feels off. You want to feel like the door is open, that they can come to you with anything, just like you’d hope to do the same. Because when someone doesn’t acknowledge how their actions impact the relationship, it starts to feel like they don’t care. You’re not a priority. That the relationship is no longer safe. And for me, that matters. I want people in my life who do care. Who are willing to work through discomfort, not walk around it. People who want to grow together, whether as a friend, partner, teammate, sibling, or neighbor.

Not every feeling or assumption will be right, and that’s okay. But that’s why we talk. That’s why we ask, clarify, and listen, to understand each other better, and to grow in the process. Because truth, even when it’s messy, is what gives relationships the chance to strengthen, not just survive.

Life isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about learning through the missteps, discomfort, and reflection.

I’m far from perfect. I’ve had my moments, made my share of mistakes, and looking back, I know I’ve missed the mark more than once. But at the core of it all, what I’ve always wanted are relationships that go deeper. The kind where both people genuinely care, show up, and are willing to work through the messy stuff, not just when it’s easy, but especially when it’s not.

There was a time when I deeply valued a connection that felt increasingly one-sided. No matter how much I tried to make space or show up, the effort rarely felt mutual. I’d adjust my schedule, put things on hold, and go out of my way, because it mattered to me. But over time, I began to notice a pattern: limited availability, distant energy, and moments that left me questioning where I stood. I felt unseen, unimportant, and honestly, confused. It wasn’t about grand gestures, it was the lack of consistency and care that slowly wore me down.

Eventually, I brought it up, hoping for a conversation that would bring clarity. Instead, things shifted in a way I didn’t expect. It left me feeling misunderstood, like I became the problem for simply expressing how I felt. And that’s what can make telling the truth feel so risky. It can shift dynamics and shake foundations. But it also reveals who’s willing to meet you halfway. And as hard as it is, I’d rather know where I stand that keep pretending everything’s fine.

I’ve come to realize we’ve all done this at some point whether it’s missed cues, being unaware, it flies right over our head, or it was unintentional. The point is to recognize it, to reflect, and to be honest about how these patterns affect us. Because we can learn. We can grow. And we can choose to show up differently, for ourselves and for the people who truly matter.

After all, I’d much rather have real, unfiltered connections. Ones where we can talk about anything and everything with honesty than stay in the safety of surface level conversations that can happen with just anyone. I want to know people: who they are beneath the small talk, what moves them, what breaks them, and what they’re still figuring out. And vice versa. I want others to notice when something’s off, when I’m not quite myself, to care enough to ask. That kind of connection brings presence, patience, and intentionality. And truthfully, I’d take someone who’s imperfect, scattered, and trying than someone who is unwilling to work together toward a common goal.

But one of the most important lessons I’ve learned, is that choosing truth over comfort isn’t about confrontation. It’s about alignment. When we ignore how we feel or avoid hard conversations, we’re not keeping the peace, we’re postponing growth. Real peace comes from clarity, from mutual understanding, from the kind of honesty that builds trust, not erodes it.

It’s not always easy to be honest, with ourselves or with others. It can feel awkward, vulnerable, or even risky. But growth lives in that discomfort. When we stress past what’s convenient and start naming what’s real, we give ourselves the chance to evolve. That’s how deeper self awareness happens. That’s how stronger, more meaningful connections form.

So, here’s something to reflect on: What truth have you been avoiding, internally or with someone else, because it feels safer not to say it?

This week, try leaning into one honest conversation. Whether it’s with yourself, a friend, a partner, or someone you’ve been drifting from. Instead, choose to lead with clarity and care. You don’t need to have all the right words. You just need to show up.

And that’s that.

Thank you for being part of these reflections, whether you’ve been here since the beginning or just joined in. That wraps up the Soft Starts series. A new series begins Monday, February 2nd, and I’m excited to keep growing, questioning, and building alongside you. Here’s to choosing truth, even when it’s not easy, and to showing up for ourselves and each other, one step at a time.

As a signature of my blog, I’d like to end this post with a suggestion to “Pass on kindness.” There’s no time like the present to Inspire Those Who Inspire You. Acts of kindness, no matter how big or small, can have a direct, positive impact on someone else. Go out there today and change someone’s life for the better!

***These are my personal opinions and may not be those of my employer.***

Kelci

Hi, I’m Kelci — a wanderer of thoughts, collector of moments, and believer in the quiet power of truth. I write to make sense of the mess, to find meaning in the mundane, and to honor the beauty in being fully human. Inspire Those Who Inspire You is my love letter to those who’ve felt too much, hoped too hard, and dared to keep going anyway. You’re not alone here—and that matters.

https://www.linkedin.com/in/kelcihogue/
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Real Over Right

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What Consistency Really Means to Me Now