When the Smallest Triggers Unlock the Past

Isn’t it strange how the tiniest, most ordinary thing—a smell, a phrase, the way someone looks at you—can suddenly fling open the door to an old, dusty file in the subconscious?
The one you thought you’d locked away.
The one you didn’t even realize was still there… waiting.

Reflection

Over the last few weeks, I’ve found myself unexpectedly triggered by the smallest things.
A song on the radio.
A random conversation.
A simple touch that  mirrored an old hurt — the rejection and shame.

Each moment cracked open a memory I thought I had neatly filed away—an echo of pain or loss or vulnerability.

I realized that for years I had perfected the art of shoving these files back into the cabinet, quickly closing the drawer as if I could pretend it wasn’t there.
But the truth is, the drawer doesn’t stay locked. The file just waits for the right moment to resurface.

And here’s the real choice:
Do I shove it back down, or do I sit with it—really sit with it—allowing the tears to come, allowing my heart to feel what it needs to feel?

Guidance

Triggers can feel like ambushes, but they’re often invitations—an opening into deeper self-understanding and healing.

When a buried memory rises, we have three main choices:

1. Shove it back in the cabinet
   Pretend it didn’t happen. Stay safe, but unchanged.

2. Justify or rationalize it
   Numb the feelings, explain them away, but never resolve them.

3. Hold it in your hands
   Examine it gently, even tenderly.
   Feel the sting, shed the tears, and invite the healing that comes from acknowledging the truth of your experience.

Growth doesn’t come from denying our triggers but from honoring the stories they carry—without letting them define us.

Closing

Today, if something small stirs up that long-buried file inside you, take a breath.
Give yourself the grace to pause.

Maybe the tears need to come.
Maybe a memory needs to be heard, seen, or finally laid to rest.

Healing isn’t about forcing the cabinet shut.
It’s about opening it with compassion and courage—again and again—until the old files no longer hold the same weight.

 What file might be asking for your attention today?