Triggers are a blessing? Okay, I don’t quite believe that yet, but I’m getting there.
I used to hate triggers. Except I didn’t really know what they were. Someone would say something relatively harmless. Or do something silly. The smallest little thing would set me off, and later, I’d wonder, “whoah, where did that come from?” It could be as simple as my wife asking, “did you bring the kids’ jackets?”
And then BOOM. All I can hear inside is, “why am I such a bad parent? I can’t do anything right! What’s wrong with me!” My inner critic voices take over in a split second (I write about my battle with these inner voices in here). Now I’m lashing out at her because (I believe) she thinks I’m incompetent — simply for asking an honest logistical question about where the kids’ jackets are.
The quintessential trigger — when someone cuts me off in traffic — especially when it’s a nicer car 😉 will get my heart pumping. “You think you’re more important than me? You think you can block me from getting what I want? Hello, I’m right here, why can’t you see me? I belong here, too!”
Have you ever been set off by something really small? And then, you wonder, wowzers, that came out of nowhere!
That was probably a trigger. Anytime you have a big emotional reaction (which may or may not even be noticeable to anyone) from a small actual thing.
My relationship with triggers is triggering, of course, but it has progressed over the years to be more constructive. I call it the 5 stages of trigger-grief 😉
- Angry & oblivious. Something triggers me. I get overly upset. I’m not even sure why. Oh well, moving on…
- Angry & blaming. Something triggers me. I get angry at the messenger. It’s all their fault for hurting me. Why are they so insensitive? They must be stupid / bitter / arrogant / judgy / [fill-in-the-blank].
- Angry with a hint of aware. I still get angry at the messenger, but I’m starting to see it’s possible that maybe it’s not just the messenger. It’s 99% their ‘fault’ and 1% mine. Hmmm, maybe it’s more than 1%.
- Aware with a hint of curious, less angry. Whoah, maybe it’s 50/50? Maybe it’s actually more me than them. The hurt I feel and the outsized response I have may be more about me than it is about what they said/did.
- Reflecting with a hint of grateful. Maybe this can teach me something. What’s underneath this trigger? I want to dig deeper. It’s still no fun. My heart still gets pumping. There’s a well of pain stuck deep within, and this trigger is a bookmark to remind me it’s still there. But now I know: anytime I have an outsized response to anything, that’s a clue — maybe even a gift — and it helps me to see more clearly a hidden pain still in need of healing.
Ah, Triggers. I now know that I have a choice: I can see them as a gift from my Creator. A blessed clue in this scavenger hunt of life. If I keep following the clues, I’ll find a treasure — a wound that can finally be tended to. An earlier version of myself that can get a belated hug. A less-triggerable life of abundance and healing.
For example, this “I can’t do anything right” voice is from a deep childhood pain that has driven me to great outward success. It’s an effective motivator. For a while. The problem is that all that outward success doesn’t solve that deep insecurity and fear, which has led me to a lot of self-hatred. Ironically, success only makes the self-hatred harder to address. Because self-hatred is often a primary motivator of success. And yes, we have all of this… simply from a question about the kids’ jackets! 😉
Digging deeper into a trigger can take months / years to get to the root. It’s taken me decades, I write about my journey here: the Four Horsemen and Me.
The next time a big response shoots out of a small event, ask yourself, “Where is this coming from, really? What can I learn about myself from this clue? What is the gift I can receive from this trigger? God, let me sit at Your feet, what are You trying to teach me in this?”
Most of the world lives in stage 2 of trigger-grief (angry & blaming). We often “kill the messenger” for reminding us of a lifetime of pain. We’ve got a bonfire of pain raging inside, and we direct our anger at the person who just casually threw in a twig. Forget about the person who threw the twig. Forget about the twig. Follow the twig into the fire. And then put the fire out.
“Post this at all the intersections, dear friends: Lead with your ears, follow up with your tongue, and let anger straggle along in the rear.” – James 1:19