When People Become Triggers

And your body begins to shut down around the person who says they care

Sometimes it isn’t your past trauma, your diagnosis, “just stress,” or you being too sensitive. It may be them.
The person you love, trusted, the person who says they care, but whose presence slowly makes your body feel worse over time.

They are the reason your chest tightens when your phone buzzes, the reason you second-guess messages before sending them, afraid of saying the wrong thing, the reason your shoulders ache, your stomach knots, and your breath shortens when you realize you’ll have to interact with them.

They are the trigger. And the scariest part is how quietly it all goes down. No big bangs, dramatic scenes. Just small moments, one after another, until your nervous system is overloaded and you barely recognize yourself anymore.

What It Starts to Feel Like

At first, you start to blame yourself. You tell yourself you’re overreacting. You try harder. You become careful with your words. You shrink your truth because honesty always seems to come with consequences.
You apologize for having feelings, for explaining yourself over and over again. You begin to walk on eggshells.
Your body responds before your mind even registers what’s happening. Your stomach sinks when they go quiet. You prepare yourself not for the yelling, but for the pretend calm. The sighs. The eye roll. The way “concern” turns into control.

You start wondering if you’re asking for too much. If you’re difficult to love. If you’re the problem.
This is not a weakness. This is what survival taught you.

What’s Happening in Your Body

Emotional stress doesn’t remain just in your brain. It resides within your nervous system. When you are constantly invalidated, your words are twisted, your affection is withheld, or you are left in a state of uncertainty, your body goes into survival mode. Fight. Flight. Freeze. Fawn.

This is why you may notice the following:

• Fibromyalgia flare-ups or worsening chronic pain
• You develop migraines, nausea, or digestive problems after an emotional conversation.
• You experience jaw locking, back pain, or shallow breathing.
• You have trouble sleeping or experience poor sleep quality.
• You have racing thoughts or feel emotionally numb.

Your body isn’t against you. It’s trying to tell you something. Being around them makes you feel like you’re in survival mode.

And Yes, Sometimes We Explode Too

This is the part where people like to skip. We don’t always stay calm.
When you’ve explained yourself a hundred times, asked gently, then clearly, then desperately.
When you keep showing up on days you’re exhausted, sick, depressed, or barely functioning, and you’re met with silence, dismissal, or indifference. Eventually, something breaks.
Your patience runs out. Your nervous system is fried. You stop cushioning your words. You raise your voice. You cry. You get angry. You say things sharply instead of softly… And then that reaction becomes the focus, and suddenly you’re “too much”, your anger is the problem, everything that led up to it disappears. Your reaction to their behavior becomes the problem.

But reacting to prolonged mistreatment does not make you abusive. Losing your calm after chronic emotional neglect does not make you unstable. It makes you human.

I’m not perfect. I have flaws (so many)… I get angry when I’m putting in effort that isn’t reciprocated. I get angry when the minimum isn’t met. I get angry when I have to repeat myself like a parrot. I get angry when accountability is dodged, and the conversation is deflected, when behavior isn’t addressed because the conversation is about how they feel instead. I get angry when I show up with honesty and effort, and I’m met with silence, defensiveness, or victimhood. When I show up despite pain, depression, or exhaustion, and I’m met with silence. When my needs are considered inconveniences rather than facts.

This anger didn’t just appear out of thin air. It appeared after trying for too long.

There’s a difference between occasionally blowing your top after a lot of emotional stress and using anger to control, intimidate, or silence another person. One is a human limit. The other is a pattern of harm.

You can name both.

If you only get a hearing when you blow, that’s not communication. That’s a system that ignores you until you blow.

How the Story Gets Twisted

You say you feel disconnected. They call you needy.
You set a boundary. They act wounded or angry.
You express hurt calmly. They accuse you of attacking them.
You ask for clarity. You’re met with silence.

And silence is not space.
Silence is control.

Then comes the confusion. A gentle voice. An “I care about you.” An apology with no change. Enough kindness to keep you questioning yourself and staying.

This is not a mistake. And it doesn’t get better.

What People Don’t See

What people on the outside don’t see is the number of times you have to explain yourself. They don’t see the care that you put into your communication. They don’t see the gaslighting, the guilt, the emotional exhaustion that you are going through. They don’t see that you’re no longer healing. You’re just surviving.

If you’re reading this with a knot in your stomach, that’s not a coincidence. That’s your body recognizing truth.

If This Is You, Please Hear This

You don’t have to have visible bruises to be hurt. Not all trauma is loud.

Sometimes trauma looks like:

• Being emotionally punished for honesty
• Being told you’re unstable for responding to chronic stress
• Having your needs turned into attacks
• Being guilted for setting boundaries
• Being dismissed, minimized, or ignored

You’re not being dramatic.
You’re not making it up.
You’re reacting to an unhealthy dynamic.

If You’re Still in It

I know it’s tough.

You still care about them.
You still want them to finally get it.
You still hold on to the good times.

But loving someone shouldn’t make your body go into panic mode. You shouldn’t feel ill when their name pops up on your phone. You shouldn’t have to practice your truth in order to be accepted. And this one is important, even if it’s painful to hear:
They’re not going to change. Apologies can be used for leverage when there’s no consequence to back them up.

What You Can Do Right Now

If leaving feels impossible, start here:

• Monitor your body, not their words. Pay attention to how you feel before, during, and after interactions. Your nervous system is not deceiving you.
• Talk to a safe person. A therapist, doctor, support group, or trusted friend or family member who will not dismiss your experience.
• Educate yourself on emotional abuse and trauma bonding. Words have power.
• Record patterns. Putting thoughts down on paper can help you escape the gaslighting cycle.
• Establish distance wherever you can. Less justifying. Participating less in circular conversations.

If possible, seek trauma-informed professional help. You don’t have to be ready to leave to deserve help.

You Are Allowed to Leave Quietly

You don’t owe anyone closure at the cost of your peace. You can leave quietly. You can leave without proof. You can leave even if no one believes you. You can leave even if you loved them deeply. Your body not feeling safe is reason enough.
Leaving doesn’t make you cold. Staying doesn’t make you strong. Choosing yourself makes you alive. Your nervous system will feel the relief first. Your peace will come later.

A Personal Note

If you are reading this and feeling like you are being exposed, that is not because I have pointed at you. It is because the pattern is familiar. This is not the first time that I have lived this pattern. I was married once before, and I decided to walk away. I promised myself that I would never again ignore my body or my feelings. This blog is the result of that promise.

This is not professional advice. I am not a professional. What I share here is a result of my own experiences, my own therapy, my own failed relationships, and my own self-education. Some of what I share here is a result of experiences where love turned to fear, and boundaries became non-negotiables for the sake of safety.

I am not claiming to be an expert or better than anyone else. I do not have all the answers. I am just a person who has learned things the hard way and is still learning.

If you see yourself in this, you are not crazy. You are not broken. And you are not alone. And if you see yourself on the other side of this, as the person who is causing the harm, that is an opportunity to change.

Remember: you are allowed to begin again.
You do not owe anyone your destruction in the name of love.