Why Do We Avoid Pain?

Avoiding emotional pain is one of the most human experiences any of us can have. Entire philosophies and religions revolve around the premise of coming to peace with our emotional pain, while therapy often deals with the effects of avoiding emotional pain. From drug use to binge eating and endless Instagram scrolling, we are constantly running from our internal experiences. Just ask the people in this study who would rather give themselves an electric shock than be alone with their own thoughts.

Asking “why?” may provoke some annoyance; after all, the answer may feel obvious: It hurts to feel pain. Of course we want to avoid it! But wait, stay with me, and let’s go a little deeper.

The Beliefs That Drive Us

After many years of my own therapy and about a decade as a therapist to people from all walks of life, here are the top three reasons I see people avoiding their emotional pain:

  1. We believe we can’t handle it.

  2. We believe it will never end.

  3. We feel alone in it.

What’s interesting about all three of these reasons to avoid pain is that they compound and build upon each other: We feel alone, which can lead us to believe we can’t handle it, and, finally, that it will never end. 

This is usually an unconscious process that only becomes conscious when we slow down and tune into the sensation of our fear and pain, both emotionally and physically. When we’re new to this, we will likely need a safe person guiding us through the process, as it may be near impossible to do this on our own. But keep trying; impossibility won’t always be the case. 

Avoiding Pain is an Attachment Issue

The process of being with our own emotions and pain, the way we might be with a friend or child, is a skill that has to be learned. Ideally, we learn how when we’re babies, toddlers, and children. Here’s how:

Let’s imagine a baby/toddler/child is crying – it doesn’t matter the reason. A loving, regulated, healthy caregiver comes over, touches or holds them with compassion, and reflects the feeling with a calming tone:

“Oh, you’re angry that you can’t have that toy right now. I get it.”

“You’re so sad I’m leaving. I promise I’ll be back in one hour.”

“You’re so scared right now. I’ve got you.”

If the parent is attuned and regulated, the child’s nervous system will pick up on that attunement and regulation via the process of neuroception and (to an extent) mirror neurons. This leads to the child’s nervous system mirroring the parent’s nervous system – thus regulating and becoming calmer. When this process of co-regulation happens, the child’s brain and nervous system make a recording, and the recording goes something like this: My big emotions are normal. They are not too much to handle, and they don’t last forever. My nervous system can calm down. People are safe and will help me. 

Over time, this child develops a nervous system and brain that are primed to be unafraid of their emotions, and they will grow up into an adult who knows they can calm themselves down as needed, and if necessary, seek support.

That sounds great, but let’s say it goes another way. This time, the child cries, and the caregiver, who isn’t regulated for whatever reason, says:

“Why are you so upset? This isn’t a big deal!”

“Oh my god, what’s wrong with you? I just need an hour!”

“Stop crying! Enough already!”

“....” (This is the parent who doesn’t respond at all, or even avoids their child or doesn’t touch them, a deeply damaging response.)

This parent is dysregulated. They are not capable of helping their child regulate because they, themselves, are not regulated. However, the same process outlined above of a regulated parent still happens, but in darker fashion: The child picks up on the parent’s nervous system and stays dysregulated, or becomes even more dysregulated, ultimately becoming overwhelmed, and needing to find outside means to self-soothe. The brain and nervous system still make a recording, but this time it goes like this: Emotions are scary. My emotions are too big. They feel terrible, and they don’t end. I can’t handle this, and I’m alone. 

Over time, this child develops a nervous system and brain that are primed to be afraid of their emotions. They may grow up into an adult who cannot calm themselves down and doesn't trust others to support them. They may lean into drugs, alcohol, binge eating/restriction, dissociation, or over-intellectualizing (“figuring out” emotions) – all attempts to self-soothe a nervous system that cannot calm itself because of an old, but powerful, recording.

Avoiding Pain is a Cultural and Societal Issue

I firmly believe that parents do the best they can with the resources they have at their disposal. The bad news is that if we look at the past 50+ years, we see increasing and widespread income inequality, little to no affordable childcare, rising inflation, and rampant education and healthcare debt, just to name a few. Add in racism, sexism, intergenerational trauma, and a global pandemic, and we see the reality that parents are just not resourced the way they need to be. This is going to create parents whose “best” probably isn’t that great.

Additionally, we live in a society that does not value emotion or slowing down to feel anything. Instead, we live in a society that values quick fixes over nurturing, achievement over compassion and community, and intellectualizing experience over intuiting experience. Our society and culture tell us that pain is to be avoided – and most of us never question this assumption.

But Isn’t Avoidance Easier? Why Do Something That Hurts? 

If you’re asking this question, I get it. You may also be someone who needs clear and convincing evidence that feeling your pain is important.

Also, on a practical level, it’s exhausting to try and avoid all that pain…and it eventually stops working. Usually, when people’s old ways of coping or self-soothing become more extreme, start to have major consequences, or stop working altogether, they come to therapy. And I’m so deeply happy to see them when they do. 

The good news is that we are wired to heal, but avoiding pain works against our natural biology. Trauma-focused therapies backed by neuroscience, like EMDR, IFS, and AEDP, all agree: the brain wants to be in the regulated, adaptive state Child #1 (described above) is in. That requires actually feeling what we’ve been avoiding. Again, some good news: even if our brain is wired in a less regulated way, healing is completely possible thanks to neuroplasticity.

What Do We Do Instead?

Being with our pain after potentially many decades of actively avoiding pain, needs to be a safe and slow process, in which we titrate access to internal experience. This tactic is often confusing to people who say something like, “Well I know I’m sad, now what?” 

One of my cheeky sayings is that nervous system problems don’t have prefrontal cortex solutions. The truth is there’s a difference between having an awareness of a painful emotion and actually feeling it. Emotions are physical experiences, and we have to be attuned to our body to be with the pain and move through it. For many, that is terrifying.

With a trusted therapist who understands trauma, you can get to know the parts of yourself who are afraid to face the pain, and then be with the parts of you that are actually in pain. These parts are often very young, originating from a time in your life when you were perhaps told by someone you loved and needed very much to stop crying and get over it. These parts still need a loving adult to help them regulate, and that can be you.

Good trauma therapy helps you become your own inner loving parent to the wounded parts of yourself who needed a regulated parent back then and didn’t get one. Therapy can also help you start to feel big emotions a little bit at a time so you don’t get too overwhelmed or flooded. It’s a process that takes practice, patience, and bravery. 

What We Resist, Persists.

Yoga Nidra, a form of mindfulness typically used for sleep, taught me that all things that exist have a life cycle, including emotions. This means they appear, they grow, they cap off at some point, decrease, and then die. Emotions simply do not last forever.

However, when a part of us that’s scared tries to kill the emotion prematurely, the emotion pushes back to complete its natural life cycle. This can feel like the pain is sticking around longer than it should. So while the first part is trying to help us not be in pain, it actually perpetuates the pain instead by preventing it from completing its life cycle. 

Avoidance Isn’t All Bad

Let’s be clear, sometimes we just need a break. You don’t have to be feeling your pain all the time, and feeling it incessantly is just as bad for you as never feeling it. As with all things, balance is key. So go pet your cat, watch some Bridgerton, and sleep in a little tomorrow.

What About Physical Pain?

Here’s the kicker – when it comes to chronic pain, avoidance has exactly the same effect as avoiding emotional pain. Fearing chronic pain, or trying to “figure it out” or make it stop, is associated with increased and perpetuated chronic pain, long after the structural issue has healed. Even more fun, people who avoid their emotions tend to have more chronic pain.

For more on this, I highly recommend the book The Way Out, written by Alan Gordon, founder of the Pain Psychology Center in Los Angeles.

You’ve Convinced Me, Now What?

How about therapy? It doesn’t have to be with us – just find a trauma-focused therapist you feel safe with to start facing your emotional pain bit by bit. If you like what we had to say here, consider scheduling a consultation.


Please note: This blog post is for general informational purposes only and should not be considered a substitute for professional therapy. But good news, if you’re looking for a therapist, we’ve got a few! Check us out and schedule a consultation today.

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