Let's Try Something New: Grieve the Trigger
A Devotional Reading: December New Moon, Somewhere Between Grace and Grief
S T O R Y T I M E ::
I held her in my hands. Not physically, no—it was more subtle than that. She was a friend, an inspiration, a mirror. I poured into her the way a river nourishes a parched valley. I shared my wisdom, my stories, my essence; as if I could pour pieces of my soul into her and we’d both grow.
But somewhere along the way, the flow stopped feeling mutual. My vulnerability—a sacred thing I rarely offer—was mishandled. Ignored. Misunderstood. And as I stepped back, bruised but not broken, I noticed something strange. Her life started to mimic mine. Her choices, her path—like she had taken notes on my design and decided to wear it for herself.
I thought it was jealousy, at first. But it’s deeper than that. It feels like a betrayal.
Many times I asked myself, ‘Why, then, can’t I release her?’
The Fear Behind the Holding On
The truth is, I wasn’t just holding on to her. I was holding on to a story and overdosing on how it made me feel. The story of her walking away with remnants of me, and, I, somehow losing my power because of it. The feeling of violation- a stimuli too irresistible to deny the core fears weaved into my nervous system; and her failure to honor my vulnerability said something about my worth. Perhaps, if I let go of her without her acknowledgment or gratitude, I’d be left with the wound unhealed, untended, unseen.
What I didn’t realize was this: I was holding on to the fear of being invisible and invalidated—the deep-seated anxiety that my worth, contributions, and vulnerability would go unacknowledged, leaving me to feel unseen, unvalued, and powerless in the face of betrayal or abandonment.
Every action of hers—every mimicry of my life- released an obvious scent of lost identity and I was the main source and template to copy and paste. Yet, it became a trigger for the oldest wound in my book: “You are not enough.”
“She is a poisonous shapeshifter hiding in the belly of fear.”
Tigger Origins
The origin of the word "trigger" traces back to the Dutch word "trekken," which means "to pull." It entered the English language in the early 17th century, specifically referring to the mechanism of a gun or firearm. The trigger was the part of the firearm that, when pulled, released the hammer to fire a bullet.
Over time, "trigger" evolved into a metaphor for anything that initiates a reaction or response, much like pulling the trigger of a gun sets off a series of actions. By the late 20th century, it gained broader psychological and emotional connotations, particularly in mental health contexts, to describe stimuli that provoke intense emotional responses or recall traumatic experiences.
The modern usage of "trigger" in discussions around trauma and emotional well-being has become prominent with the rise of trauma-informed care and social discourse on mental health, particularly in the digital age.
Where It Lives in the Body
I sat with it one evening. Candles lit, pen in hand, the weight of the question pressing against my chest. ‘Why does this feel so heavy?’ I closed my eyes, and there it was—tightness in my chest and a dull ache in my solar plexus.
That’s where betrayal lives. Right in the core of the heart and gut, these are the places that tell you who you are and what you’re worth.
I placed my hand on my heart and whispered, “I see you.” The ache softened. Not disappeared, but softened.
A Tool for Releasing the Weight
What helped me begin to release her was recognizing that her actions were not a reflection of me—they were a clear reflection of her dis-ease.
So I started here:
- I wrote out the distorted thoughts:
- “She’s taking pieces of my life and claiming them as her own.”
- “Her lack of acknowledgment diminishes my worth.”
- “I can’t let go of this without losing part of myself.”
- And then I rewrote them:
- “My essence is irreplaceable. What’s mine is mine, no matter how it’s mirrored.”
- “Her actions say everything about her journey, not my worth.”
- “Releasing her isn’t losing myself—it’s reclaiming my energy.”
Each new truth became a mantra. I breathed them into my chest until the tightness eased just a little more.
What I Know Now
She didn’t take anything from me. My wisdom, my essence, my light—they are unstealable. They exist because I live. What’s mine cannot be replicated or erased.
And her mimicking my path? It’s her journey, not mine. Her choices reflect her desire for growth ( or lack thereof ), not a theft of my power.
Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting the hurt or pretending it didn’t happen. It means releasing the grip, softening the way the story feels somatically, and reclaiming the parts of yourself that you unknowingly gave away.
An Invitation
If you’re holding on to someone or something ( an experience) of betrayal—a mishandling of your vulnerability—take a moment today to pause. Feel where the hurt lives in your body. Place a hand there and breathe.
Ask yourself: What story am I holding on to?
Write it down. Rewrite it. Then move your body, let the energy shift, and create space for something new.
And if the hurt feels too heavy to carry alone? Take your time. Healing isn’t about rushing to the finish line. It’s about remembering that you’ve always been whole, even when it didn’t feel like it.
I’ve finally come to a place in my life- mind body spirit- where I can fully surrender to grieving her, the abandonment trigger. I don’t think we hear enough conversation around the grief of letting go of ‘em- letting triggers die; versus defending and coddling the triggered narrative when it comes up. She is a poisonous shapeshifter hiding in the belly of fear. Anger, irritation, resentment, abandonment & powerlessness….. are just a few ways she hikes up your cortisol and diminishes your self-awareness. Her greatest weapon has been to get you to focus on your triggers - more of what you don’t want and less of who you really are and how your core desires are connected to your assignment.
S(he) represents every ex, client, mentee, friend, or family member that has ever handled me carelessly… drained my goodness, grace, and gifts to validate their broken humanity.
She {the triggers}… sheds light on those who are here to siphon the human experience; NOT to grow or evolve.
Why "Siphon"?
It encapsulates the act of drawing something away, much like draining.
It implies an extraction or transfer, sometimes in a way that feels parasitic or unbalanced, akin to a leech.
Here’s your #gentlereminder: She is an invitation.
Letting go is a process. But when you finally do? Oh, the freedom. It’s waiting for you.
— So much love, with a hand on my heart,
Kira.
Thank you for pausing to sit and dive into #storymedicine with me.
For Deeper Integration: Devotional Practice, Somatic Release, Release Rituals…
I invite you to continue reading |
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Word Medicine: Alchemy, Story, Myth & Healing to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.