Navigating Triggers: The Silent Echoes of Our Stories
Triggers are sneaky, aren’t they? One minute, you’re fine, and the next, a word, a tone, a smell, or even an unexpected memory knocks you off-center. Triggers are deeply personal, often invisible to others, and yet they carry the power to shift our entire mood or sense of safety.
But what are triggers, really? At their core, triggers are emotional responses to reminders of past experiences—usually painful ones. They occur because our brains, in their attempt to protect us, latch onto sensations associated with past trauma. It’s a survival mechanism. Your mind connects today’s encounter to a time when you felt vulnerable, hurt, or powerless, even if that connection feels blurry or irrational.
For me, navigating triggers as a Black Congolese Canadian adds layers of complexity that aren’t always easy to untangle. Some days, I ask myself, “Is this feeling valid? Am I overreacting? Is this real, or am I projecting?” It’s an exhausting cycle of self-doubt, and I’ll be honest—it’s taken years even to begin recognizing that gaslighting myself only makes things worse. And yet, it’s hard to avoid when the world around us often dismisses or minimizes the experiences of Black women.
What It Feels Like to Be Triggered
Being triggered isn’t always loud or obvious. It’s not always sobbing in a corner (though sometimes it is). For me, it’s often subtle—a racing heartbeat when someone talks over me, a sudden wave of defensiveness when I hear comments about the epitome of feminine beauty being tied to women having hair.
I don’t have hair—not because I lost it, but because I chose to shave it. And yet, even knowing it’s a choice I love, those comments still feel like an invisible weight, reminding me how often society equates beauty with conformity. That weight feels heavier when you realize how much our culture ties a woman’s value to her appearance. Triggers like these aren’t just about the present moment; they tap into a history of being told who I’m supposed to be, how I’m supposed to look, and what makes me worthy.
Triggers are physical as much as they are emotional. Your body reacts before your brain can fully catch up. Sweaty palms, a lump in your throat, or a tight chest are just as valid indicators of being triggered as anger or tears. Sometimes, the hardest part is recognizing that the reaction isn’t about the present moment but about what that moment represents.
Small Steps to Identify Triggers
The first step in managing triggers is naming them. Here are a few ways to start:
Pause and reflect: When your mood shifts suddenly, pause and ask yourself: What just happened? What did I hear, see, or feel right before this? Journaling about these moments can help connect the dots over time.
Notice your body: Is your chest tight? Are your hands shaky? Physical reactions often signal emotional responses before your brain fully processes them.
Check the pattern: Do certain people, places, or topics consistently unsettle you? Patterns can reveal triggers you weren’t consciously aware of.
Be patient with yourself: Some triggers take time to identify. The work is in being curious about your reactions instead of judging them.
Untangling My Triggers as a Black Congolese Canadian
The triggers I carry feel like a blend of personal history and inherited struggles. Sometimes, I don’t even know if my feelings are mine or something I’ve absorbed from generations before me. I flinch when someone questions my “Canadian-ness,” yet I feel a tug of guilt for not being “Congolese enough.” The complexity of existing between identities means some triggers are hard to pin down—and even harder to validate.
I’ve learned, though, that sitting with that discomfort is okay. Not every trigger needs immediate resolution. Sometimes, the answer isn’t to “fix” but to listen—to honour the echoes of my ancestors, the strength of my lineage, and the humanity of my own journey.
When Self-Love Isn’t Enough
There’s a narrative that self-love is the cure for everything, but let’s be real: loving yourself doesn’t mean you won’t get triggered. I’ve learned to show myself grace when I stumble—because no amount of affirmations can erase the need for community, healing spaces, or professional support.
And here’s the thing: triggers don’t make you weak. They’re evidence of your survival. Every time I catch myself minimizing my feelings, I remind myself that self-love isn’t about perfection—it’s about holding space for the messy, unpolished parts of me, too.
Unlearning the Self-Gaslighting Cycle
Gaslighting myself has been one of the most challenging habits to break. That little voice in my head says, “You’re being dramatic. This isn’t a big deal. Get over it.” But healing requires me to call out that voice for what it is—a defence mechanism born from years of feeling unseen.
When I feel triggered, I now practice speaking to myself as I would to a friend: “It’s okay to feel this way. Let’s explore it without judgment.” Because the truth is, your feelings are always valid, even when they’re confusing or inconvenient.
Closing Thoughts
Triggers remind us that we are human and carry stories in our bodies and minds, some of which are still unfolding. They invite us to dig deeper, reconnect with ourselves, and heal in ways honouring our complexities.
If you’ve been feeling overwhelmed by your triggers, know that you’re not alone. Your experiences, whether layered or messy, deserve to be seen, heard, and nurtured. Healing isn’t linear, but every moment of awareness is a step forward.
So, here’s to honouring our triggers not as weaknesses but as invitations to grow. And to do so with grace, patience, and the gentle reminder that you are enough—exactly as you are.