There’s something strange about the way our brains cling to routine. We’ll park in the same exact mall spot, take the same route to work, watch the same shows, eat the same meals—even when something else might be easier, better, or just… new. In Cookie 20: Comfort Zones, I talk about how I came face-to-face with this in the most unexpected way: mall parking.
Yes, parking.
I had my eye on a dress for my mom’s 70th birthday, and even though I was tired, I decided to go check it out. But when I got to the mall, I was hit with a real dilemma—not about the dress, but about where to park. My usual spot was far from the store I needed. Should I do something outrageous and park in a different section? Or stay loyal to my “habit spot” and take the long walk?

( “Okay, Nayerie, here you are. Will you take the road well-worn or the road less traveled?”
“I want to take the road less traveled, but what if I can’t find my way out?
“Come on, Nayerie, you’re intelligent enough to find your way out of an unfamiliar parking lot.”
“That’s true, but I don’t want to try something new today!”
“Do it, anyway. Maybe you’ll learn something.”
“Oh, alright!”)
That line still makes me laugh, but also—it’s true. How often do we limit ourselves over something so small? So I parked in the new section. And—surprise—the store, The Limited, was right next to the entrance. The irony of walking into The Limited just as I realized how limited my thinking had been wasn’t lost on me.
That tiny shift reminded me how often we don’t explore easier or better options because of fear, fatigue, or just the pull of routine. Even when we’re capable of more, comfort tells us, “Don’t bother. Just stick with what you know.”
But that’s not how growth happens.
“That Street Doesn’t Go Through”
Later, I saw this play out again with my mom. We were driving through our neighborhood during rush hour, and I suggested we skip the crowded freeway and take Huntington Boulevard instead.

She wasn’t having it .She was convinced it was a one-way street, just like we’d always thought. Even though I had learned it wasn’t, she refused to try. It really struck me—how something as minor as a road can become a symbol of the mental paths we don’t take because we believe they’re closed and what happened next? I ended up in Huntington one day when the freeway was shut down. It worked perfectly.
(“See, I told you Huntington Boulevard goes through.”)
That moment stuck with me, not because I was right, but because it was a clear example of how easy it is to live inside outdated ideas. About streets. About possibilities. About ourselves.
“Financial Comfort Zones Are a Thing Too!“
It’s not just about habits or driving routes. We all have financial comfort zones, too. For some people, that means being okay with very little. For others, it means needing to see $100K in savings to breathe easy. And whatever your number is, if life throws you a curveball, you’ll probably do whatever it takes to return to your version of “comfortable”.

The takeaway? These limits aren’t just external. They’re mental. We often don’t even realize we’ve built them.
(“Everything you want is just outside of your comfort zone. –Robert Allen.”)
“Ice Cream and Existential Crisis“
One of my favorite comfort‑zone experiments came in the form of a double scoop at Baskin‑Robbins. I ordered a new flavor on top (Butter Pecan) and a comfort flavor below (Lucky Mint). I planned to ease in with the Butter Pecan first—after all, it was the unfamiliar one—before diving into the familiar, soothing mint.

While I was sitting there, a mom was dealing with her daughter’s meltdown—classic ice cream ultimatum. I found myself watching, feeling both relieved that I wasn’t in her shoes and a little wistful for a life I once thought I’d have. A husband, Children, Christmas mornings and Mother’s Days.
That’s the wild thing about stepping out of your comfort zone. It doesn’t always confirm your choices. Sometimes, it softens them. It lets you see things from another angle, and gives you empathy—for yourself and for paths you didn’t take.
“Taking the Other Road“
Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” ends with one of my favorite lines:
(“I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”)

And no, I’m not saying changing your parking space will radically change your life. But I am saying that when you push against the little things that feel fixed, you train yourself to tackle bigger changes down the line.
>Want to move across the country? Start by reading a new genre of book.
>Thinking of changing careers? Try a new route to work first.
>Scared to leave a toxic relationship? Learn to cook something new.
These small risks train your brain to say, I can try that—instead of better not.
Action Nibbles: Small Ways to Practice Getting Uncomfortable
Here are a few playful, doable ways to stretch beyond your current habits:
- 🚗 Drive a new road to work every day this week. Try the “wrong way” on purpose and see where it leads.
- 💃 Take a dance class you’ve never considered: salsa, bachata, ballroom, country line, belly dance, Irish step.
- 📚 Read outside your go-to genre: If you love memoirs, try a sci-fi or thriller. If you’re into fiction, grab a non-fiction deep dive.
- 🎵 Switch up your music: Put on jazz while cooking, classical in the car, or dive into 90s rap just for the energy shift.
- 🍲 Eat something weird: Kale chips, roasted beets, or even a jackfruit taco. You might hate it—or it might become your new fave.
- 🎶 Try a new instrument: Ukulele, harmonica, or even a kazoo. Doesn’t matter how you sound—just play.
- 🧢 Change your style: Wear a hat. Part your hair differently. Try a bold color or wear sneakers with a dress.
Because once you prove to yourself that you can try something small and new, you’re more likely to say yes to the big stuff: IVF, a solo trip to another country, leaving the job that drains you, or starting something from scratch.
So what’s your “parking lot moment”?
What’s one tiny habit you’re ready to challenge this week?
Drop it in the comments—I’d love to hear what “limited” idea you’re ready to rewrite.

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