Suppressed Triggers: When Emotions Erupt from the Shadows
These past few days have felt like a vortex - an emotional storm spinning from within. The air felt charged, the veil thin, and all the chaos I’d been holding back finally surged forward.
Anger.
Resentment.
Unworthiness.
Jealousy.
Perceived abandonment.
They didn’t trickle in gently. They crashed over me, all at once - loud, messy, and unapologetic.
And so, I did what I’ve learned to do over the years: I sat with them.
I tried not to project them, as best as I could. I gave myself space. I breathed. I paused. But even in that pause, I could feel the undercurrent in my body—the weight in my chest, the tension in my jaw. I found myself placing dishes down with just a bit too much force, walking with heavy feet, struggling to stay fully present with the ones I love.
The truth is, these reactions weren’t new. They were familiar patterns rooted in childhood wounds and years of systemic conditioning—ones I unknowingly programmed into my own nervous system.
The Shield We Don’t Realise We Wear
When you're someone who holds space for others, a pillar for your family or community, it’s easy to slip into survival patterns masked as control. Control becomes the shield—our way of feeling safe.
But here's the paradox:
That same shield often becomes our greatest barrier to receiving love, softness, and joy.
We tell ourselves small, almost imperceptible lies over time. Justifications. Stories. Narratives we use to explain the pain. Over time, those stories become so tangled, we lose track of what's real - and we retreat. We withdraw. And in doing so, we begin to unleash the emotions we've locked away, using them as a defense mechanism.
Why? Because underneath it all, we’re afraid.
Afraid to relinquish control.
Afraid to be truly happy.
Afraid to feel fully loved.
Especially when we’ve spent a lifetime giving love, not receiving it. And for someone wired in "pillar-mode," receiving can feel like the greatest risk of all.
Returning to Self
I've done a lot of work around surrender - years of unwinding, healing, and reprogramming. But some days still hit differently. This was one of those days.
And eventually, I stopped resisting.
Instead of continuing to hold it all in, I asked myself a simple question:
“What does my body need right now?”
Not what I should do. Not what would look good. Not what’s productive or performative.
Just - what do I need?
I turned to rhythm. I connected with my drum, my singing bowls, the quiet wisdom of my space. I let the sound hold me where words couldn’t. I journaled instead of speaking, because I believe that words create worlds. And I didn’t want to create more chaos with unfiltered emotion—I wanted to transmute it.
In the stillness, something shifted.
I grounded.
I softened.
I listened.
And beneath the swirl of suppressed triggers, I found the truth. I saw the reflection clearly. I understood the root. I knew where I was being asked to expand—and what needed to be nourished in order to grow.
Your Reminder
Green leaves don’t grow from dried roots.
You must water your roots - daily.
Give yourself permission to feel. To not get it all right. To hold space for the emotions that rise without judging their arrival. To sit with them without letting them take the wheel.
And above all, know this:
You are allowed to rewire the story.
You are allowed to release the shield.
You are allowed to let love in.
Even on the days when your triggers scream louder than your peace—
you are still worthy of love, softness, and joy.
One breath at a time.
One truth at a time.
One alchemized thought at a time.
With love,
Chantelle