8-10-2025 | 8 Minute Read
Your Triggers are Your Healers
Have you ever noticed how certain words, actions, or situations bring up intense emotions that feel almost out of proportion to what’s happening? A small comment from a colleague might leave you replaying the conversation for hours. A delayed text message might send you spiralling with worry. These are our triggers.
We often see triggers as enemies — proof that we are too sensitive, too reactive, too “much.” We try to silence them, push them away, or numb them. But what if triggers aren’t here to destroy us? What if they are the very messengers pointing us toward the deepest areas of healing?
Sitting with Psalm 139:23-24
This prayer captures what triggers often do: they test us. They reveal what lies beneath — fears of abandonment, old griefs, insecurities we’ve carried quietly for years. They bring to the surface what we’d rather leave hidden.
But in God’s hands, a trigger becomes more than discomfort. It becomes an invitation. Instead of a punishment, it is a doorway: an opportunity to surrender what we’ve been holding onto, to bring our hidden pain into the light, and to allow grace to do the work of healing.
The same can be true in the moments when someone gives us feedback at work, when a partner expresses their boundaries, or when a friend shares how our actions have affected them. These moments can feel like small earthquakes within us — shaking something fragile we thought was buried long ago. Our instinct may be to defend, explain, or pull away. But often, what’s being touched isn’t the present conflict — it’s an old wound.
Maybe the feedback echoes a childhood moment when we felt not good enough. Maybe a partner’s boundary reminds us of times we felt rejected or unseen. Though these moments seem ordinary, they often carry divine purpose: they are mirrors, gently revealing where we still need healing.
And what if feedback — like a trigger — isn’t a verdict, but an invitation? What if instead of closing off, we pause and ask, “Lord, what is this showing me about myself that still needs Your grace?”
In that pause, the discomfort becomes sacred. It’s no longer about who was right or wrong, but about what God is refining within us. Even in the sting of feedback or the tension of a boundary, there lies a holy opportunity — to practice humility, to soften rather than harden, and to let love do its transforming work.
Walking with the Stoics
Marcus Aurelius once wrote:
“If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it — and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.”
In other words, triggers are not the enemy — our interpretation of them is. When someone criticizes you, the wound may not come from their words but from the story you tell yourself: “I’m not enough. I’ll never measure up.”
The Stoic practice is to pause and ask:
What story am I telling myself about this moment?
What if the meaning I’ve attached isn’t the only meaning possible?
By holding space between the trigger and our reaction, we give ourselves the gift of choice. The trigger no longer dictates our behavior; instead, it becomes the mirror reflecting the beliefs we are ready to examine.
And in that stillness — where reason meets faith — something sacred happens. We realize that even our pain can be our teacher. Grace meets us in the gap between what happened and how we choose to see it. God’s wisdom and Stoic strength are not opposites; together, they remind us that peace is not the absence of pain, but the presence of perspective.
The Inner Work
In psychology, triggers are seen as messengers from our past. They often reveal attachment wounds, unmet needs, or earlier experiences where we didn’t feel safe or cared for.
Think of the anxious–avoidant dance in relationships:
The anxious partner feels abandoned and seeks closeness.
The avoidant partner feels smothered and seeks space.
Both partners trigger each other, often leading to conflict. Yet, the real opportunity lies in noticing what’s underneath: the anxious partner’s longing to feel secure, and the avoidant partner’s longing to feel free. If both can see these moments not as attacks but as clues, they can begin to respond with compassion instead of defense.
This same dynamic shows up in workplaces. One employee constantly checks in, seeking reassurance that they’re doing the task right. Another, feeling pressured, withdraws into silence. Frustration builds. But when both step back, they might see that what’s really happening is not incompetence or hostility, but two nervous systems trying to protect themselves in different ways.
From a biomedical standpoint, triggers are not just “in your head.” They live in your nervous system and body. When we encounter a trigger, the amygdala — the brain’s alarm system — interprets the situation as danger, even if it’s not life-threatening. The body responds with a flood of stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline.
This fight-or-flight response shows up physically:
Heart racing
Muscles tensing
Shallow breathing
Tunnel vision or racing thoughts
It’s why a simple work email can make your chest tighten, or why a partner’s silence can make your stomach drop. Your body is reliving an old threat. The biomedical insight here is crucial: you’re not “weak” for being triggered — your body is doing what it was designed to do: protect you.
Healing, then, is not just about changing thoughts. It’s about retraining the nervous system to recognize safety again. Practices like deep breathing, grounding exercises, physical movement, and even mindful exposure can calm the body’s response so the trigger becomes less overwhelming over time.
Guided Reflection
Your triggers are not punishments — they are teachers. They show you where your past is still present and where healing is possible.
In relationships, they can be the very points that turn conflict into connection. In workplaces, they can transform tension into teamwork. On a spiritual level, they draw you closer to God, who knows the anxieties of your heart. On a philosophical level, they invite you to question your judgments and assumptions. On a psychological and biomedical level, they reveal where your body and mind are carrying old wounds that are ready for release.
The next time you are triggered, instead of asking “Why me?”, try asking: “What is this showing me? What is this moment teaching me about my healing?”
So how do we turn these overwhelming moments into opportunities for growth?
Pause & Name It
Instead of reacting immediately, pause. Put words to what you feel: “I feel rejected when my colleague overlooks my input.” Naming emotions lowers their intensity.Trace It Back
Ask: “What does this remind me of?” Maybe it’s not about your boss ignoring your idea today, but about not being heard as a child.Regulate the Body
Slow down your breathing. Put your feet firmly on the ground. Remind your body it is safe. Without calming the nervous system, reflection becomes nearly impossible.Reframe the Story
Challenge the first assumption. “They didn’t respond because they don’t value me” might shift into “They may be overwhelmed, and I can clarify with them later.”Practice in Relationship
Whether it’s with a partner, friend, or colleague, use the trigger as a conversation starter. Vulnerability builds connection: “When this happens, I feel… Can we work through this together?”
As you sit with these words, remember that healing rarely happens all at once—it unfolds step by step, choice by choice, and moment by moment. May this reflection lead you toward courage, grace, and a deeper trust in your own becoming.