From Triggered to Triumphant: How I am Claiming My Peace

Someone once told me, “There’s truth in criticism.” I didn’t want to hear it — especially not over FaceTime, especially not from a close friend. But there she was, saying it anyway: “So what are you going to do about the situation? Complaining obviously isn’t helping. You can’t change them. So get off the pity pot and change you.”

That hit hard. Her words slapped me awake.

She was right — complaining never solved a thing. All it ever did was stack problems like dishes in the sink, waiting for someone else to wash them. My usual reaction was to drown in it, to sink deeper into my feelings like they were warm water — but they were anything but comforting.

Still, I couldn’t escape the truth: I was tired of being the outdated version of me. The version that defaulted to self-pity, that watched life happen from the passenger seat, that kept waiting for someone else to offer peace.

I was frustrated with the woman staring back at me in the mirror — the one who had let misery become her baseline. I had turned people-pleasing into a personality trait, but in the process, I forgot how to please myself. Everyone else’s needs came first. Mine? They waited quietly on the back burner, collecting dust.

Why did I do that?

Because somewhere along the way, I convinced myself I didn’t deserve my own attention. That caring for myself was selfish. That prioritizing my needs made me less lovable, less worthy. As if self-care were some kind of crime I kept committing in secret.

The frustration started to spill over, seeping through every loss I took from putting others ahead of myself. It showed up in my finances, my health, my energy. I was stretched thin — mentally exhausted, emotionally drained, and quietly angry.

How do you rebuild yourself from that?

Then it hit me — my intuition, that quiet voice I had been ignoring, finally spoke up. It was time for a full overhaul. No more pointing fingers. No more waiting for apologies that wouldn’t come. The truth was, no one put me last — I did.

My choices. My patterns. My responsibility.

I stopped complaining. I stopped venting. I got still, and I started listening — to myself. I began to ask hard questions: Why did I need everyone to like me? Why was I constantly chasing approval?

I wanted to control the narrative, to make people see me as someone lovable, worthy, “good.” But here’s the truth bomb: no one could see I was a great person — because I didn’t believe it.

That was the first real breakthrough. I had to see my own value before anyone else could. I had to confront the parts of me I didn’t like, and stop running from them. I had to accept what was real, not just what I wished was true.

The second stage was reclaiming my happiness.

For a long time, I kept waiting for happiness to arrive — as if it were a package someone else was supposed to deliver. But I forgot something important: my happiness is my responsibility. No one else can give it to me, and no one else can take it away.

So how do you get to your happy? You get brave. You take risks. You follow the path you were too scared to walk before. Mistakes will happen — of course they will. But the only thing worse than falling is the regret of never even trying.

Now, I’m in the phase of choosing me — first, and without apology.

I let the emails wait. I silence the early-morning calls. I give myself the space to breathe, to stretch, to prepare for the day on my terms. I drink more water. I move my body. I notice the little things that spark joy — things I used to overlook.

I no longer carry other people’s small problems like they’re mine to fix. I’ve stopped letting their opinions define me.

Instead, I’m building peace, one small choice at a time. I’m letting go of the triggers that used to own me. And for the first time in a long time, I’m learning how to care for the one person I used to neglect the most: Me.