After 21 years at the same company, I was laid off.
It was a relief on one hand, and a shock on the other. A relief, because I had secretly been dreaming of a new life for a while. A shock, because suddenly the opportunity was really here, and I didn't yet know what that new life would look like.
I had given a great deal to that company and helped build something big and meaningful, something I'm still proud of today. There was security, good people, and work I knew how to do well. And yet, for several years before the layoff, I already knew that something in me had changed.
In those last years, restlessness and tension were frequent visitors inside me. At the same time, a sense of safety was still there too. They existed side by side. Some part of me already wanted to move, even if there wasn't much to see from the outside yet. Back then, I thought I simply didn't have enough courage. Today, I no longer believe that. I had reached the waiting zone.
The safety zone: the door to the comfort zone
For me, the comfort zone is preceded by the safety zone. We reach it after we've been through something difficult or pushed past our own limits. It might be a hard life event, or something we chose ourselves: a new job, leaving a relationship, taking on real responsibility, or making ourselves more visible.
After an experience like that, we need time for the tension to settle. We can breathe more deeply, gather our strength, and get used to the new situation. The safety zone isn't a luxury, or a place to hurry out of. It's part of recovery, and the door into the comfort zone.
Once we've been there long enough, life starts to feel familiar again. We no longer have to strain every day just to cope with something new. There's more room to simply be, and to enjoy life.
The comfort zone
The comfort zone gets a lot of criticism. It's often talked about as a place where we stay stuck for too long. I see it in richer colors. The comfort zone can be a very good place. It's familiar, safe, and calm. You don't have to keep proving yourself or pushing toward the next goal.
There have been times in my life when I needed it badly. And there have been times when I noticed I was no longer resting there. Something in me had quietly begun to move, even though I hadn't taken a single real step yet.
How long to stay in the comfort zone is deeply personal. At some point a new interest, thought, or curiosity may appear. Your current life may not be bad at all. It's just that you're no longer quite the same person who arrived in it. This is the call.
The call and the waiting zone
The call doesn't always arrive as a big realization or a clear decision. Often it begins quite quietly. You start thinking about a different job, relationship, or life. You read, you listen, you look into your options. Maybe you learn something new, or make plans you haven't told anyone about yet. But the thought keeps coming back.
When the call is already there but no movement has followed, you've reached the waiting zone. It's not as comfortable here as it used to be. There can be dissatisfaction, restlessness, and a kind of anticipation all at once. You already know you want to change something, but you're still waiting for the right moment, for more certainty, or for a clearer plan.
Soon, I'll do it. Once I'm ready. When I have more money, time, or courage. When I know exactly how it will all turn out.
From the outside, this can look like preparation. And sometimes we really do need to gather information before we act. Waiting isn't a problem in itself. What matters is what happens next.
When waiting turns into movement
When a real step follows the waiting, we move into the growth zone. It doesn't have to be a big leap or changing your whole life at once. Sometimes growth means a single conversation, sending an application, saying out loud what you want, or trying something on a small scale. We do something we haven't done before, and there's a little uncertainty in it.
The growth zone isn't entirely comfortable, but it's safe enough that we can still think, choose, and act. After growing, we need to recover again. We move back into the safety zone, and from there into the comfort zone, until the next call comes.
This movement isn't quite a circle, because we never arrive back in the same place. It's more like a spiral. Each new experience changes us a little, and we go through the next loop as a slightly different person.
When movement doesn't come
If we stay in the waiting zone for a long time, frustration begins to build. An inner readiness to move has formed, but no action follows. The energy that could go into making a change can start to show up as restlessness, anxiety, irritability, or a constant dissatisfaction. Sometimes it turns against us, and we start criticizing ourselves for not having enough courage or willpower.
The problem may not be that there's no energy. The energy is there, but it can't find anywhere to go.
What the nervous system has to say here
In our minds, we may already know very well what we want. That doesn't mean our body feels equally sure in the face of change. When the tension grows too great, we can become anxious or withdraw into ourselves. Then clarity disappears, and acting becomes harder.
These states aren't linear. We can move back and forth between them, and be in completely different places in different areas of life at the same time.
People don't get stuck in the comfort zone
I've come to think that people don't always get stuck in the comfort zone. The comfort zone can still feel genuinely good. They get stuck in the waiting zone, the place where, inside, they've long since understood that something needs to change, but they haven't started to move.
Sometimes it's fear that keeps us from moving on. Sometimes it's gratitude toward the place that once carried us. Or loyalty to the people and the life we built ourselves. For me, that old job had been much more than a job. It was part of my identity. Moving toward something new also meant letting all of that go.
The layoff made visible what I had already known inside for some time. That place had done its work for me. Moving on doesn't make the earlier choice wrong, or take away its meaning. Sometimes we've simply changed in the meantime.
And maybe what holds us back the most is an old version of ourselves, the one who once needed that familiar place. For me, that place had been right and necessary for a long time. But I was no longer the same person.
If you sense that you're in the waiting zone, you don't have to know the whole road ahead yet. To begin with, think of one small step you could take right now: a single conversation, an email, a first attempt.
Which zone do you recognize yourself in today?