Most couples we’ve worked with have heard the term trigger, and when asked to define it, they usually think of it as any reaction, especially if it causes irritability or frustration. A trigger is a reaction, for sure, but it indicates something much deeper.

Our triggers reveal the lies we believe about ourselves and others. For our purpose, we’re defining a trigger as a reaction not commensurate with the situation or experience. It’s an overreaction the situation doesn’t call for.

For example, there are certain things that annoy me, and for years, I just chalked it up to a preference. I really struggle with people who talk or scroll on their phones in movie theaters. My reaction was usually a quiet anger, irritation, and judgment of the insensitive troll who was doing it. Yes, it’s annoying and distracting to have someone talk through a movie, but my reaction (although I felt justified at the time) was more intense than it should have been, revealing something deeper within me.

As I examined this, I realized my trigger was tied to my mother and how she behaved during my growing up years. She was self-focused and rarely considered the impact she had on the people around her. She only thought of herself, her pain, and what she needed. As a result, I had deep-seated anger toward her for all the pain she caused me without ever owning it.

Although I knew in my head that God sees me and I matter to Him, I had a heightened sensitivity from the distorted view from my family that “I am invisible and unimportant,” leading me to off-load those hurtful feelings in judgment. The situation in the movie theater and my experience with my mother are completely different, but my reaction to anyone who was self-absorbed was the same. When my feeling of invisibility was triggered, it interfered with my ability to respond appropriately instead of reacting. Once I understood this and processed the pain of that wound, I now had a choice in the movie theater or anywhere else. I could move away from that person, I could kindly ask them for what I wanted (which I couldn’t do out of anger), or I could ignore their insensitive behavior.

When my children were young, there were three things I strongly disciplined them for: lying, disrespect, and being critical of someone for something they couldn’t change, like skin color, height, or family issues. All three things are good values to teach, but when I saw how my reactions were connected to my history and negative experiences with my parents, I could own my distorted views in those areas and lower my expectations and judgments.

Check Engine Light

Think of emotional triggers as a warning light, potentially from different types of hard or traumatic experiences. My husband Rob and I were both triggered at times, but we didn’t dig deep enough to find out the source of those triggers. Rob’s reactions were more subtle than mine. He kept it inside. They were more like implosions, a silent form of judgment or passive aggression. Mine were often expressed verbally, or I would get quiet and pull away. Either way, our reactions were like the “Check Engine” light on the dashboard of our car, and for years, we ignored the light, hoping by some miracle the car would just keep running.

So, the next time you sense an implosion or an explosion building, don’t assume it’s the situation alone, rather see it as an opportunity to examine a raw spot or an area of hurt from an earlier time. Sometimes it can be as simple as asking yourself, “Why does that bother me so much?”

To better understand these triggers, let’s look at the difference between responding and reacting. I encourage you to examine your own patterns. If you’re like me, you’ll discover you react more often than you thought. Then ask yourself the question, “Where is this reaction coming from?” If you stop blaming the situation or people around you, and if you’re honest with yourself, you may be surprised by your answers and the connection to your history.

Responding is being able to distinguish thoughts and feelings.
Reacting lumps thoughts and emotions together.

Responding reflects or thinks before speaking.
Reacting says whatever in the heat of the moment.

Responding respects boundaries of others.
Reacting wants to control the lives of others.

Responding recognizes the existence of alternative views.
Reacting insists that all views be like its own.

Responding sees the context of another’s behavior.
Reacting is quick to judge a person’s character based on a single act.

Responding starts with asking questions in a non-threatening way.
Reacting comes to quick conclusions without really knowing or asking.

Responding gives the benefit of the doubt first.
Reacting assumes the worst or the least about others.

Responding comes from a thoughtful mind in how it expresses emotions.
Reacting acts out on emotions without thinking.

Responding comes from internal decisions based on secure values.
Reacting results in external triggers from shaky and threatened beliefs.

For years, I made assumptions about myself and others without checking if they were valid or even true. I thought my reactions were justified, but what if they were informing me of something deeper going on, just like the Check Engine light in my car? What if I look at my reactions as messengers, wanting to reveal to me areas where I need to be liberated? What if my simmering insecurities just under the surface are calling all the shots?

As we learned to recognize and pay attention to when we were triggered and explored the source of our reactions and responses more closely, Rob and I became safer with one another and discovered new depth and security in our relationship. This eventually led to greater trust. Restoring broken trust becomes a challenging and crucial layer in the journey of healing and recovery. More on that later …

This is an excerpt from “Hope After Hurt” by Roxanne and Rob Maroney