5 ways to feel safe when trauma triggers hit

When trauma triggers hit, they can feel like a tidal wave crashing over you—pulling you out of the present and into the past. I've been there too, grappling with memories I didn’t invite and emotions that feel too big to hold. But through this messy process, I’ve found small ways to feel safe again, even in the chaos. These are not quick fixes, but gentle reminders that healing is about showing up for yourself, moment by moment.

Here are five ways to find safety when the storm rises:

1. Remind yourself with a grounding thought you’ve picked beforehand

When I’m triggered, my mind spirals into what-ifs and should-haves, but I’ve learned to interrupt the chaos with a grounding thought. It’s like a lifeline I prepared in calmer times.

For me, it’s: “I’m so loved, and I am safe in this moment.” Repeating it brings me back to where I am, reminding me that my past can’t reach me here.

Think of a phrase that feels safe to you—something simple, something true. Practice saying it when life is calm, so it’s ready when you need it.

2. Anchor yourself in your body

Trauma often pulls us out of our bodies, leaving us disconnected and adrift. One way to feel safe is to gently guide yourself back. Start small—notice your breath, wiggle your fingers, or plant your feet firmly on the ground.

I’ve found comfort in wrapping myself in a soft blanket, letting the weight remind me that I’m still here. Even a warm cup of tea can become an anchor, its heat grounding me in the now. And when the triggers hit hard, a peaceful walk in the woods works for me well.

3. Find a safe place in your imagination

When the world feels unsafe, I close my eyes and retreat to a safe space I’ve built in my mind. For me, it’s a beach by the ocean—a rhythmic, tranquil place where the waves and the sand soothe me and I can breathe freely.

This place doesn’t have to be realistic; it just has to feel like home. Picture every detail—what you see, hear, feel—and let it cradle you when triggers feel overwhelming.

4. Speak to yourself with compassion

Trauma triggers are often accompanied by harsh self-talk: Why can’t I get over this? Why am I so weak? But what if you could rewrite the script?

When I feel small and vulnerable, I imagine speaking to myself the way I would a scared child—with warmth, patience, and love. Phrases like, “It’s okay to feel this way” or “You’re doing your best, and that’s enough,” can be powerful.

Compassion doesn’t erase the pain, but it softens the edges, making it bearable.

5. Connect to something that feels bigger than the pain

Sometimes, the best way to feel safe is to remember we’re part of something larger—whether it’s nature, faith, or community.

When I’m overwhelmed, I step outside and feel the wind on my face or watch the stars above. It’s humbling and comforting to realize the vastness of life. If spirituality resonates with you, a quiet prayer or meditation can help you feel held by something greater.

Your story matters

Healing isn’t about fixing yourself—it’s about learning to hold space for your pain while nurturing your safety. I’ve had days when I thought I’d never feel safe again, but small steps like these have helped me rebuild that sense of belonging to myself.

Remember, you are allowed to seek comfort. You are allowed to take up space, even when it feels hard. And when triggers hit, you have tools to weather the storm. You’ve survived before, and you will again.

What helps you feel safe in difficult moments?

Love, 

Pia

The Day I Almost Derailed My Own Life and What It Taught Me About Self-Forgiveness

 

While I was planning my wedding with my soon-to-be husband there was a lot going on. I was just to be graduating. The pressure was high on my levels to get everything ready on time, my studies, like my thesis and some unfinished courses, the arrangement of our brand new unfurnished home and the wedding reception.

While all that was going on I made a mistake. A big one. And this time, it was financial.

The details aren’t glamorous, but it was one of those moments where the consequences could have been devastating. I had taken a financial risk I shouldn’t have, and it had backfired. When I realized the mess I had created, panic set in. I was overwhelmed with guilt, ashamed of my actions, and terrified of what my fiancé would think.

He already knew, as he was there with the me, receiving the devastating news.

I expected disappointment. I expected frustration. Instead, I got understanding. He didn’t brush off my mistake or minimize it—he acknowledged how serious it was—but he also didn’t let it define me. "We’ll fix this together," he said.

That support was everything.

The days leading up to our wedding were a whirlwind of not just planning, but cleaning up the aftermath of my mistake. I worked hard to make things right, and he stood by me through every frustrating moment. By some miracle—truly, I still don’t know how everything fell into place—we got it all sorted out on time before the wedding day.

When we stood together at the altar, it felt like the past was behind us. It wasn’t just a wedding for me—it was a clean slate. For the first time in weeks, I wasn’t carrying the weight of guilt and shame. It was just me and him, standing together, ready to start something new.

Looking back, I’ve realized there were four key steps in forgiving myself and moving forward:

Acknowledgment: I had to recognize my mistake without piling on judgment. I needed to see it for what it was—just one chapter in my story, not the whole book.

Understanding: I had to reflect on the reasons behind my actions. Why had I made that financial choice? I wasn’t reckless; I had acted out of too much confidence where there was not enough trust in place though and a desire to do more than I was capable of at the time.

Compassion: This was the hardest part. I had to treat myself with the same kindness I would offer a friend in my shoes. If someone I loved had come to me with this mistake, I wouldn’t have condemned them. I’d remind them that everyone messes up. I had to extend that same grace to myself.

Release: This is where the healing began. I couldn’t carry the guilt with me into my marriage. I chose to let go of the weight, to see the experience as something I could learn from rather than something that defined me.

Starting our marriage from that place of honesty and grace made all the difference. It wasn’t a perfect start, but it was real. And in that realness, I found a deeper connection with my husband and, more importantly, with myself.

It was actually a defining, healing moment for me, now that I look backwards. It released me from some past unhealthy ways to cope and set me up for success to start a new way of leading my life with my husband. Old ties were broken. In that humble moment of beginnings I had a new way ahead of me, a new identity to step in.

When I think about those days now, I feel gratitude. Gratitude that my mistake didn’t derail our life, gratitude for my fiance's support, and gratitude for the lesson I learned about self-forgiveness.

If you’re carrying guilt over something you’ve done, remember this: You can own your mistake without letting it own you. You are not the sum of your missteps. With effort, honesty, and a willingness to forgive yourself, you can move forward with freedom.

The start of a new chapter doesn’t require perfection. It only requires the courage to acknowledge, understand, show compassion, and release.

For me, that future started the day I said, "I do." And it’s been stronger and more beautiful because I learned to forgive myself first.

Love, 

Pia

What do Hope and Peace say about my fear?

 

Fear often feels like a wildfire—uncontrolled, consuming, and overwhelming. Yet, when you introduce hope and inner peace with your fear, they act as a fireplace, providing structure and containment to the flames of fear. This perspective doesn't extinguish fear but frames it, allowing its warmth to illuminate rather than destroy. To guide like a strong force put to it's rightful place.

Understanding Fear Through Hope and Peace

I'm no brain expert but what I’ve learned from my coach, fear is a natural response your primitive brain turns to when facing the unknown. It's a signal that you're stepping beyond your comfort zone. 

However, without the balancing forces of hope and inner peace, fear can paralyze us. Hope offers a vision beyond the immediate anxiety, a belief in the multiple positive outcomes that are available for us. It motivates us to move forward. 

Inner peace provides the calm assurance that, regardless of external circumstances, you possess the resilience to face challenges. But what does this look like in real life?

The Whisper of Hope

Hope speaks gently to fear. It says, “I see you, but you don’t get the final say.” When fear flares up, hope leans in, not to deny its presence but to remind you of what lies beyond it. It offers a glimpse of possibility, of something good on the other side of this moment.

Hope is a flicker, sometimes small but never insignificant. It’s what keeps us walking forward when fear says, “Turn back.”

The Stillness of Peace

Peace, on the other hand, is quiet and steady. It doesn’t rush to fix fear or make it disappear. Instead, it sits with it, saying, “You can be here, but you don’t get to run the show.” Peace softens fear’s edges, reminding us that even in chaos, there is stillness to be found.

While hope looks ahead, peace anchors you to now. It tells you that you’re okay—right here, right now, no matter what tomorrow holds.

What do Hope and Peace say about your fear?

When fear shows up in your life (and it will), pause for a moment. Instead of trying to push it away, ask: What do hope and peace say about this fear?

Hope might say, “This fear means you’re stepping into something that matters.”

Peace might say, “Even if it’s hard, you’ve handled hard things before.”

Together, they frame fear, turning it from a destructive force into something that warms and guides us.

Finding the Frame

You don’t have to frame fear perfectly every time. Start small. Acknowledge the fire. Whisper, “What is this teaching me?” Let hope and peace answer. Sometimes their voices are soft—barely there—but they are always present, waiting for you to listen.

And slowly, you’ll find that fear, instead of consuming you, begins to glow softly like a fire on a winter’s night, casting light and warmth guiding you forward.

Love,

Pia

Safe

In front of this new and scary unknown, it's time to be silent. 

How it feels in the body, can grip such a firm hold.

It can eat us alive, all of our courage, little by little.

We’re left with a pain that has no cure, we believe.

Yet in the midst of the fear if we choose silence, and breathe…

What could happen?

If we find a place to feel safe, while the fear is still present?

Letting our body feel safe in front of the possibility of us still proceeding with what frightens us.

If we give fear a face, what does it look like?

How does the name of it sound in our ears when we say it out loud in a company that feels like home.

That cold grip fading from our shoulders.

Those flames of agony easing away from our stomach.

I had that moment one day this Winter.

I was resting alone in sauna, the place where so many times before the clarity just came.

Old fears were washed away like the thrown water vaporizing away from the hot stones.

I saw a simple glimpse of what I could do.

Something in a seed form.

A set of baby steps.

No pressure with a radiant glimmer of hope in the horizon.

With grace and peace yet firm courage.

For the first time.

What is that safe space for you?

Will you rest there in silence while the fear is around?

Just breathing.

Love,

Pia