Reflections on Triggers: Perceptions and Projections
**Reflections on Triggers: Perceptions and Projections**
When someone or something triggers us, it’s as if they’ve touched a tender part of our soul—something we may not have been ready to acknowledge, or may not even be aware of, let alone confront. Our immediate reaction is often to point a finger, attributing blame to their words, actions, or attitude. But beneath the surface, we might ask ourselves: What is it about this person or situation that stirs something so deep within me? Could it be that they’ve become a mirror, reflecting back something within myself that is unresolved, hidden, or in need of my attention?
The truth is, it’s rarely about them. It’s about us.
Each of us carries the weight of our own stories—our experiences, traumas, and deeply held beliefs. These shape the unique lens through which we perceive the world. When someone’s behavior irritates or unsettles us, it’s often because they’ve revealed a part of ourselves that we haven’t fully come to terms with—a wound that hasn’t yet healed, a fear we haven’t faced, or are not aware of. It’s uncomfortable, yes, but other people often become mirrors, reflecting back the places within us that are calling out for healing, growth, or transformation.
As always, I write from real-life experience, and yesterday was no different. Verna and I were excited to fetch some of our newly upholstered furniture. Some pieces were from my childhood, while others were treasures Verna had collected over the past twenty years. We loaded the beautifully covered chairs into the bakkie, eager to bring them home. I was in a bit of a hurry, anxious about the food we had on the bakkie that could spoil. Verna, who usually takes care of securing the furniture, felt my rush. So, we left without tying the pieces down, thinking that their weight alone would keep them in place. Yet, a small voice inside nagged at both of us—one of those gut feelings we often overlook.
And then, life delivered its lesson. As we drove along, slower than usual with our precious cargo, a speeding truck raced past. The angle, the strong gust of wind—everything aligned just so—and suddenly, one of the newly covered chairs was lifted high into the air. We could only watch in disbelief as the chair crashed onto the tar and tumbled to a standstill, battered and torn. In shock, we retrieved our bruised chair, feeling sadness, confusion, and a sense of bewilderment. We couldn’t help but ask ourselves: * What is the meaning of this happening now? *
These moments, too, are mirrors. They push us to pause, to reflect on the hurried decisions, the ignored instincts, and the deeper lessons hidden within the chaos. They urge us to see beyond the surface and ask: * What is this teaching me about myself? *
Triggers often reveal our projections—those unconscious feelings and fears that we cast onto others because facing them within ourselves is too painful. We may judge someone as arrogant, but could it be that we fear our own confidence or that we’ve hidden it away for too long? We feel resentment towards another’s success, but is it because we’ve neglected to confront our own insecurities or doubts?
I’ve met people who, without effort, feel like home—kindred spirits who resonate with me effortlessly, as if our souls recognize each other. And then there are others who, without saying or doing much, seem to poke at something raw within me. They don’t have to be openly challenging or offensive; it’s simply that their presence exposes a discomfort or vulnerability that I’d rather keep hidden.
In those moments, I’ve learned to pause and gently ask myself: * What part of me is being challenged here? Why does this person or situation bring up such strong feelings? * It’s not easy to face these questions. The ego resists, insisting that the problem lies with the other person. But with patience and honesty, I’ve come to realize that when I’m triggered, it’s not a sign of their wrongdoing; it’s a signal that something within me needs tending—a part of me that is asking for my own compassion.
Most people aren’t out to offend or hurt us. Often, they’re just navigating life with the same imperfect human tools that we are—their own histories, wounds, and beliefs shaping their actions. If I were to walk in their shoes, to live their story, wouldn’t I carry the same scars, hold the same perspectives? This recognition is humbling, and in many ways, it’s also liberating.
Triggers aren’t punishments. They’re invitations—gentle nudges from the universe, urging us to explore the depths of our own hearts with more self-awareness and compassion. When we can hold space for those uncomfortable emotions and ask ourselves why they emerge, we begin to unravel the knots of our own pain. We soften our judgments, creating more space for understanding—both for ourselves and for those around us.
The next time you find yourself feeling triggered, take a breath. Sit with the feeling. Ask yourself: * What is this teaching me about myself? What part of me is asking for healing, for understanding? * It takes courage to turn inward instead of pointing outward. It takes tenderness to face the parts of ourselves that are still aching. But the growth, the freedom, and the deeper connection to your own heart that come from this process? They are always worth it.
From this experience, we’ve learned the value of offering compassion to each other, especially when faced with the urge to blame. It was easy to feel frustration toward each other or even direct our anger at the speeding truck. It’s human nature to want to assign fault, to replay the situation in our minds, imagining all the ways it could have been avoided. Yet, when the dust settled, we realized that this event—however unpleasant—was another lesson in letting go, accepting, and embracing what is. In that acceptance, a sense of calm emerged, bringing a perspective that wasn’t quite as bitter.
Our chair, though battered, will return to the upholsterer for possible restoration. Even if it ends up showing its battle scars, we will cherish it just the same. Perhaps it sounds strange to others, but we both sensed a kind of lifeforce energy in that chair, as though it, too, had felt the pain of its fall. We couldn’t bring ourselves to discard it just because it was no longer perfect. Instead, we will embrace it, imperfections and all, as a reminder that even through hardship, there is always something of value to be learnt.
You are not alone in this journey. Each of us is navigating our own inner landscapes, learning to find grace amidst our imperfections. Be gentle with yourself, and know that every trigger is an opportunity to come closer to your true self. And as you grow in understanding and compassion for yourself, you’ll find it easier to extend that same compassion to others.
Blessings to you on this journey of self-discovery, healing, and growth. May you find moments of peace in each reflection, and the strength to embrace every new understanding. It’s certainly not easy—this path of looking inward—but there is profound value in taking the time to dig a little deeper, to unearth the hidden truths buried within the bedrock of your being. With each layer you uncover, may you grow closer to the heart of who you truly are, finding the courage to heal and the grace to grow.
Written by: Laresa Perlman
