Navigating triggers....

Some days, it is easy to brush things off—to let the little frustrations roll away. Other days, a single comment, a dismissive tone, an unfair assumption lingers, and suddenly, there is a storm inside.

I feel first. 

Annoyance, anger, disappointment. The reaction is immediate and hard to ignore. But is it about this moment, or is it something deeper? Is it just this person, or am I responding to a pattern I have seen before? I remember when someone casually dismissed my work as "interesting, but energy economics is not really economics." On the surface, it was just an opinion, but deep down, it triggered years of having to prove the value of my research in rooms where my field wasn’t always taken seriously. That comment wasn’t just about that person—it was about every similar moment that had come before it.

I think next—sometimes too much. 

Was it intentional? Am I overreacting? Should I give the benefit of the doubt, or is this a boundary being crossed? Thought can help untangle feelings but also create distance, a delay that keeps me from responding. I have had moments where I have replayed a conversation in my mind long after it ended, questioning whether I should have spoken up. Once, I let a dismissive remark slide in a meeting because I wasn’t sure if pushing back would help or hurt the situation. Hours later, I was still analysing it, wondering if my silence had been mistaken for agreement.

I talk—if I choose to. 

Some triggers make words spill out before I can stop them, while others leave me silent, replaying the moment later, wishing I had spoken up. Talking is tricky. Too soon, and emotions might take over. Too late, and the weight of the moment is already heavier than it should be. I have been in discussions where I felt I had to defend my perspective immediately, only to later realise I could have made my point more effectively with a calmer, more measured approach. And then there are the times I stayed quiet, thinking I would address it later, only for the moment to pass, leaving an unresolved tension behind.

I act—but how? 

Do I walk away? Confront? Adjust my expectations? Action is where real change happens, but it is also where regret can creep in. Respond too impulsively, and I might escalate something unnecessarily. Hold back too much, and I let resentment build. I have learned that not every trigger requires a response, but some do. When a colleague once spoke over me repeatedly in a discussion, I decided at that moment not to let it slide. Instead of reacting emotionally, I calmly reclaimed my space. It was a small act, but it shifted the energy in the room.

Self-awareness lives in the space between feeling, thinking, talking, and acting. It is where we decide whether to react, respond, engage, or disengage. Some people’s behaviours will constantly be triggering. But how we navigate those triggers—closing the gaps between emotion and action—determines whether we are simply controlled by them or learn to rise above them.

Things don’t always unfold neatly—feel, think, talk, act. Sometimes, emotions take over before logic has a chance to step in. Other times, overthinking keeps us stuck in a loop, delaying action until the moment has passed. There are times I have spoken too soon and regretted it, and times I have held back when I should have said something. 

So, what do we do? We acknowledge the messiness. We give ourselves permission to get it wrong sometimes, to learn from it, and to try again. The goal isn’t perfect control—it’s awareness. When things don’t go as planned, we pause, recalibrate, and decide what comes next.

PS: AI was used for language editing.