Freedom’s Tab

The Real Cost Of Comfort

Author’s Note

It’s been a weird and wacky week, Chain-breakers… some beautiful highs, and a few kick-in-the-face lows.

And when those lows hit, they hit hard. But they also serve as a stark reminder of why I keep going with The Unshackled Project. Because no matter what’s thrown my way, I’m crystal clear on this: people are being positively impacted by this work. Lives are shifting. Conversations are opening. And no one… no person, no system, no setback, no internal storm… is going to stop me from doing good in the world.

This week, I take a look at something we all wrestle with: comfort.

The seductive kind that whispers sweet nothings while quietly chaining us down. This one’s called “Freedom’s Tab”… and it’s about the price we pay for false relief… and the kind of freedom that’s actually worth it.

For the many of you participating in the 6 week mentorship program, I look forward to contacting you tomorrow to get started!

Let’s get into it.

Freedom’s Tab

The Real Cost Of Comfort

Whatever lifts us up… can also pull us down.
Gravity is a reality of life.

Sit with that for a second.

Every high. Every escape. Every hit of relief…
It feels like freedom in the moment…
but it collects a price later.

Always.

That drink that used to take the edge off?
It numbed more than your daily frustrations at work.
It blurred purpose.

That late-night doom scroll?
Feels like connection…
until it’s 1:48 a.m. and you’re lying there,
lost with an overactive mind.

Even love… the wild, beautiful kind—
can come bundled with heartbreak.

Not just the obvious kind, like break-ups.
Heartbreak doesn’t need a goodbye.
It can show up even in the strongest, ongoing relationships.

Loving someone means carrying their grief,
their bad days, their buried stories.
It means holding space for their silence,
even when you’re screaming inside.

Love doesn’t protect you from heartbreak.
It actually invites it in.
And we sign up anyway…
because the ache of loving fully…
is worth it.

We’re a mad bunch, aren’t we?
A beautifully broken, stubborn-hearted race of people.

“Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it's having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome.”
— Brené Brown

The ultimate protection from heartbreak is to not get into a relationship.
And somehow… we keep choosing love anyway.
We take the risks because the upside is worth it.
Well… it should be.
But that’s a whole other article.

The Real Cost of Comfort

The world sells comfort like it’s gold.
Fast relief.
Quick highs.
Numb now, deal later.

Can’t face the inbox?
Scroll TikTok for two hours and suddenly you’ve learned a dance you’ll never use
and a conspiracy about Flat Earthers actually being aliens.

Feeling lonely?
Send a “U up?” text to someone who definitely shouldn’t be in your life.
Congratulations… now you’ve now got company and more chaos.

Bit anxious?
Don’t worry… there’s a $14 smoothie promising inner peace, glowing skin, and emotional stability.
(Spoiler: it’s mostly banana and sugar.)

But here’s the truth:

Comfort isn’t free.
It’s rented.
And the interest rate?
Ruinous.

We chase dopamine like it’s direction.
But direction takes discipline…
and nobody’s paying heed to that down at the servo next to the 2-for-$8 Red Bulls and regret pies.

“In the attempt to escape pain, we create greater suffering.”
— Gabor Maté

Seneca put it best:

“It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare;
it is because we do not dare that they are difficult.”

And comfort?

It dares us to settle.
It invites us to smother the blaze with candlelight and call it warmth.

What You Pay

You pay in regret.
In half-lived days and half-arsed apologies.
You pay in sleep stolen by shame.
In court dates, plexi-glass visits,
and names that don’t land the same anymore.

You pay in silence.
In watching life happen without your permission.

People think prison is just a rigid place.
But it follows you.
It lingers in your mind,
haunts your dreams,
hides in your reflection.

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”
— Carl Jung

The Pain is Proof

Here’s what no one tells you:
The pain? It’s not the end.
It’s the receipt.

Proof you still feel.
Proof you’re still here.
Proof you haven’t given up.

That 5 a.m. workout?
In here, that’s not fitness… that’s rebellion.
It’s like doing burpees on a concrete floor
while everyone else is queuing for instant noodles and bad TV.
(It’s not just fitness. It’s defiance.)

Choosing better food when all you want is escape?
That’s a quiet revolution.
An act of inner warfare fought with a fork.

Showing up for someone
when you’ve got nothing left to offer but truth?
That’s love in its rawest, fiercest form.
Alchemy in action.

Turning wreckage into rebuilding.
Pain into purpose.
Punishment into practice.

“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”
— Viktor Frankl

This Is the Deal

I’ve made mistakes.
Some huge ones.
Ones that cost people, time, trust, and truth.
I’ve paid for them. Still am.
And I probably always will.

But here’s what I know:

Remorse isn’t weakness.

I am truly remorseful for all that I did
and all the people I have ever hurt.
There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about it.
That’s what brought me here.

I know I can’t change the past,
but hand on heart,
I’m doing all I can to have a positive impact on myself and others.

It’s the beginning of responsibility.
And accountability?
That’s not just an apology to the world
which, if you’ve read my work, is a frequent thing.
It’s also a contract with yourself that you don’t break again.

So no…
I don’t carry shame like an anchor.
I carry it like a compass.
It points me forward.
And I let my actions do the talking from here.

“You do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems.”
— James Clear

If you’ve been part of this journey from the start,
I think you’ll agree…
I’m taking daily steps to improve my life
and the lives of others.

You rebuild from ruin,
you learn how strong a man becomes
when excuses are no longer an option
and ego has packed its bags.

So take a second. Ask yourself:

Am I numbing… or nurturing?
Am I paying for today with tomorrow?
What am I pretending helps,
that’s actually keeping me stuck?

Practice for the man or woman you’re becoming.
Practice for the world you’ll step back into.
Practice for the kind of freedom
that doesn’t come with a hangover or a guilty conscience.

You don’t have to give up feeling good.
You just have to stop lying to yourself about what it costs.

Because every choice is a transaction.
And the real price of comfort?

Might just be the freedom,
the future,
and the life
you were born to live.

Stay Unshackled, my friends.