Last week, I wrote about grounding as a way back into the body — how sensory tools and breath can help regulate our nervous systems and restore presence. I thought I’d tucked that lesson away for future reference.

But then we traveled.

A long-awaited trip to Singapore and Bali — beautiful, celebratory, and still… triggering.

At the Singapore airport, in the middle of a crowded security line, I noticed my husband freeze. His posture shifted. His jaw tightened. His voice got clipped. My own chest started to tighten in response. And there it was — the swirl of tension and confusion we both felt but couldn’t quite explain.

It would’ve been easy to push past it, to brush it off as jet lag or stress. But instead, I paused and asked myself: What’s really happening here? Not just in him — but in me.

Later that night, I realized what had been stirred: old patterns. For him, perhaps memories of disorientation or powerlessness in crowded spaces. For me, the panic of not knowing how to help or the need to regulate everyone around me. Neither of us had done anything wrong. But our bodies were holding stories.

And that brought me back to a lesson I’ve learned again and again — in my work, in my healing, and now in this season of MyPeacein50: Triggers aren’t signs of weakness. They’re wisdom. They’re messengers. And if we can learn to greet them with curiosity rather than shame, they can become powerful allies on our journey home to ourselves.

Memory Lives in the Body

One of the most important things I’ve learned in both clinical work and personal healing is that memory isn’t just a mental file cabinet. We don’t just remember things with our thoughts. We remember with our bodies.

Trauma — whether big "T" or small "t" — isn’t only about what happened. It’s about what happened inside of us as a result. It’s the way our nervous systems store that experience for future protection. That means a trauma memory might not show up as a conscious thought. It might show up as tight shoulders, a racing heart, a sudden urge to withdraw — often long before we can name what’s happening.

Sometimes a smell brings us back. Other times, it’s a tone of voice, a certain kind of touch, or a feeling of being left out. Our systems go on high alert. We’re not “overreacting” — we’re reacting to something our bodies remember.

And often, we don’t even know what that “something” is.

What Is a Trauma Trigger?

A trauma trigger is anything — internal or external — that reactivates a past wound or survival response. It could be a sensory cue like the scent of alcohol, a loud noise, or a closed door. Or it could be relational — someone dismissing your idea, ignoring your text, or using a tone of voice that hits too close to an old experience.

You don’t have to have a formal PTSD diagnosis to experience this. We all have emotional imprints that linger — moments when we felt unsafe, unseen, or powerless — and our bodies develop patterns to protect us from feeling that way again.

Here’s the key: a trigger doesn’t mean something is wrong with you.

It means your nervous system is doing what it’s designed to do — scanning for threat and trying to protect you. The trouble is, it can’t always distinguish between past and present. It reacts fast. And without tools to ground and reorient ourselves, we can end up stuck in patterns that no longer serve us.

Smells, Sounds, and Snapshots

One of the most fascinating — and frustrating — aspects of trauma memory is that it often shows up through sensory cues. Smell, in particular, is powerful. That’s because the olfactory bulb (which processes scent) is closely connected to the amygdala and hippocampus — the brain regions involved in emotion and memory.

A specific cologne. A cleaning product. The way the air smells after it rains. These things can feel innocuous on the surface. But when paired with unresolved trauma, they can trigger emotional flashbacks — anxiety, panic, shame — before we know what’s happening.

I’ve experienced this too. The jasmine I love so much on my walks can sometimes bring up longing or grief, depending on the context. It’s beautiful — and layered. And that’s true for so many of us. Our bodies remember, even when our minds don’t.

Triggers in Relationships

Sensory cues are powerful, but some of the most difficult triggers are relational. Let’s say your colleague interrupts you in a meeting. Rationally, it’s minor. But your body floods with emotion. You feel dismissed. Angry. Small. You spiral for hours afterward.

This might be a relational trigger — an echo of earlier experiences where your voice didn’t matter, or where speaking up led to rejection or punishment. The response isn’t just about the moment. It’s about the memory.

This is especially hard when we’ve internalized the belief that we’re “too sensitive” or “too much.” But often, what we’re feeling is not overreaction — it’s a signal that something deep is being touched.

When Triggers Are Tied to Shame

Shame is one of the most painful emotions we experience — and one of the most common companions to trauma. It’s not “I did something bad,” but “I am bad.”

Brené Brown defines shame as “the intensely painful feeling of believing we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging.” And it often arises after a trigger. We ask ourselves:

• “Why can’t I just let it go?”
• “What’s wrong with me?”
• “Why does this still affect me?”

But shame doesn’t lead to healing. It leads to hiding. And what we hide, we can’t tend to. That’s why I’ve learned — and continue to practice — meeting my triggers with empathy. With language like:

• “This makes sense.”
• “My body is remembering something.”
• “I don’t have to shame myself for feeling.”

From Shame to Curiosity

One of the most powerful shifts we can make is moving from shame to curiosity. Instead of, “What’s wrong with me?” try, “What’s happening inside me?”

Instead of judging the reaction, ask, “What’s this response protecting me from?” Curiosity is a gentle presence. It makes room for nuance. It says, “Let’s understand,” instead of, “Let’s fix.”

This is the heart of trauma-informed self-care: noticing patterns, tracing them with compassion, and choosing how we want to respond.

Grounding as a Response

In last week’s blog, I explored a variety of grounding tools that help regulate the nervous system — breathwork, touch, sensory cues, and body-based rituals. When a trigger hits, these tools aren’t “extras” — they’re essential.

Here’s why:

When we’re triggered, our brain shifts into survival mode. The amygdala floods us with emotion, and the prefrontal cortex — responsible for logic and language — goes offline. We literally lose access to clear thinking.

Grounding brings it back online. It interrupts the limbic spiral and signals to the brain: We’re safe now. This is a different moment. And over time, the body begins to believe it.

A Framework to Try: Name, Notice, Ground

This is the practice I’m returning to this week:

1. Name
• “I’m feeling activated.”
• “That interaction stirred something in me.”
• “My body is on high alert.”
2. Notice
• “Where have I felt this before?”
• “What story is coming up?”
• “Is this about now — or about then?”
3. Ground
• Hand on heart.
• Cool object in my palm.
• Three steady breaths.
• A simple phrase: This is a cue to ground, not a call to judge.

This Week’s Practice: Noticing My Triggers Without Shame

This week, I’m paying attention to the cues. The tension. The spirals. The freeze. And instead of pushing past them or blaming myself, I’m asking what they’re trying to tell me. Not as a performance. But as a practice.

Here’s what that looks like:

• I’ve written “Not a flaw, just a flashback” on a sticky note at my desk.
• I’m updating my sticky notes from last week’s grounding practice — this time with phrases like “This is an echo, not a threat” and “You’re safe to feel.”
• I’ll pause after challenging conversations and check in: What’s coming up in my body?
• I’ll use the Name-Notice-Ground framework at least once each day — even if just as a reflection before bed.
• And I’ll remind myself that healing isn’t about avoiding triggers. It’s about meeting them with more presence, more compassion, and more agency.

Next week, I’ll be exploring Reclaiming Your Breath — how intentional breathing can regulate, restore, and reconnect us. But this week is about noticing the ripple — and remembering that even in our hardest moments, there is wisdom waiting to be heard.

Because the truth is this:
Your triggers aren’t trying to sabotage you.
They’re trying to protect you.
And the more you listen with care, the more you’ll find your way back to peace.

📆 The Weekly Flow

Here’s what this week looks like in the #MyPeacein50 rhythm:

• Monday → This blog goes live
• Tuesday–Thursday → I’ll share prompts, quotes, and practices on Instagram, LinkedIn, and Facebook
• Friday → I’ll post a short video reflecting on how the practice actually went (the messy, human version)

You’re invited to join in any way that feels right:

• Quietly follow
• Share using #MyPeacein50
• Try one walk — even just around the block
• Or download the free Calm Calendar for extra support

💛 What I’m Loving This Week
• Sound: The rustle of leaves outside my office window — a soft reminder that even in stillness, there’s movement.
• Practice: Pausing after tough conversations to check in with my body: What’s here? What needs care? Even 30 seconds changes the tone of my day.
• Tool: A smooth worry stone I keep in my pocket. Whenever I feel activated, I press it between my fingers and whisper, “This is an echo, not a threat.”
• Quote: “Not a flaw, just a flashback.” This phrase has been my companion all week — reframing my triggers as messengers, not mistakes.
• Song: The Night We Met” – Lord Huron. Melancholic yet grounding, for tender, reflective moments.