Leave That Shell Behind
Growth Means Leaving the Shell
Think of a hermit crab. When it outgrows its shell, it has no choice but to leave it behind. For a little while, it has to crawl around exposed and vulnerable until it finds a bigger shell. It’s not comfortable. In fact, it looks downright risky. But it’s the only way the crab keeps growing.
Our comfort zones work the same way.
The Trouble With Staying Put
It’s tempting to stay in the shell we know. Safe. Familiar. Predictable. But just like the crab, if we don’t move on, we outgrow the space we’re in.
You stay in a job that no longer challenges you.
You stay in a relationship that no longer fits.
You stay silent when your growth depends on speaking up.
I used to treat discomfort as a red flag: “This must mean something’s wrong.” Trauma wired my brain to believe staying small was safer than taking risks. But in reality, that “wrong” feeling was just growth knocking.
Why It Feels So Hard
The unconscious mind is wired to keep us safe, not happy. Anything new feels like danger, so it sets off alarms: racing heart, anxious thoughts, knots in the stomach. That’s why stepping out of your comfort zone can feel like the worst idea in the world, even when it’s exactly what you need.
But here’s the deeper truth: if the hermit crab refuses to leave its shell, it doesn’t just stay small. It dies. What once protected it becomes the very thing that suffocates it. Staying comfortable turns into the real danger.
My dad used to put it this way: “If you’re not learning, you’re dying.” And when I look at my own life, I see the shells I’ve had to crawl out of:
Silence → Voice. As a person who tells the story of my CSA, I left behind the shell of secrecy. Staying silent felt safe, but it was slowly crushing me. Speaking my truth was uncomfortable, but it gave me room to breathe.
Invisibility → Visibility. As a person who speaks at Toastmasters, I’ve stepped out of the shell of “don’t be seen.” Every time I stand on stage, my heart races — but every time, I grow.
Safety → Courage. As a person who steps into decisions that are hard but ultimately better for me, I’ve walked away from jobs and choices that felt secure but left me shrinking. Crawling out opened new paths I couldn’t see from inside.
Attachment → Freedom. As a person who lets go of people and situations that are toxic, I’ve learned that some shells weigh you down so much, the only way to keep living is to leave them behind.
Protection → Vulnerability. As a person who was uncomfortable being overweight, but even more uncomfortable being thinner, I learned that my body itself was a kind of shell. Letting go of the weight meant facing a whole new kind of vulnerability.
Every one of those moments felt like the hermit crab’s vulnerable crawl — shaky, exposed, unsure if a bigger shell would be waiting. But each time, I found the space to grow into a fuller version of myself.
That’s the paradox: comfort feels safe, but sometimes it’s the riskiest choice of all.
How to Step Into a Bigger Shell
Notice the squeeze. Ask yourself: Is this choice keeping me safe — or just keeping me small?
Reframe the feeling. Discomfort is not failure. It’s a sign your old shell doesn’t fit anymore.
Take micro-steps. Try on a new behavior in small ways before leaping all the way in.
Tune into your senses.
See: Picture what life looks like in a bigger shell.
Hear: Notice the old inner voice saying, “Don’t risk it.” Thank it, then keep moving.
Feel: Lean into the flutter of nerves — it’s often the same energy as excitement.
Growth is uncomfortable by design.
The hermit crab doesn’t stay put in a too-small shell just because it feels safer. It braves the vulnerable crawl because that’s the only way forward.
My dad always said: “If you’re not learning, you’re dying.”
For him, learning wasn’t about textbooks or classrooms — it was about being fully alive.
Learning meant noticing the world around you, paying attention to people, trying new things, staying curious. It meant adjusting when life shifted, picking up wisdom from mistakes, and expanding who you were a little more every day.
He believed learning was living. That every experience — from the painful to the joyful, from the small everyday lessons to the big life-altering ones — was a chance to grow. And if you stop stretching into those lessons, you stop really living.
Every shell you leave behind is proof that you’re choosing life.
Are you ready for moving day?
Growth doesn’t come with a set of directions, but you don’t have to crawl toward your next shell alone.
If you’re feeling the squeeze and know it’s time to stretch, let’s explore what your next, roomier version of life could look like — together.
