What Our Triggers Are Trying to Tell Us

Twenty-seven years ago, I had the pleasure of working for a man named Frank Watson. As a 21-year-old, I saw an old man wearing bow ties and suspenders when I was introduced for the interview. I was an arrogant youngster who struggled with the old-school corporate culture of the time.

My first thought was: Oh no, this old man and I are not going to get along. I expected to fight to be heard or, at the very least, fight conforming. It's no secret I’ve always struggled to conform.

Instead, Frank never tried to contain me. He encouraged my challenging nature to push others and encourage creative thinking. But the greatest lesson he ever taught me was a question he made me ask whenever I felt an intense, visceral dislike for someone:

"What is this person mirroring back to you?"

It took me years (and recently diving into psychology) to realise that Frank was casually teaching me Carl Jung’s concept of the Shadow.

Jung suggested that the parts of ourselves we suppress, deny, or were taught to hide don't just disappear. They hide in our shadow. And when we see someone else freely expressing those exact traits, our subconscious panics. We don't just dislike them; we feel deeply triggered by them.

Frank made me look inward. If my dislike triggered deep emotions, I had to ask why. Was I jealous? Insecure? Was this person highlighting a weakness in me, something I wished I were better at? Were they doing exactly what I wished I had the guts to do?

Which brings me to tennis, and specifically, Aryna Sabalenka.

I’m a tennis super-fan. I follow the tournaments, the live rankings, the injuries, all of it. Usually, I can watch anyone play. But for the longest time, when Sabalenka came on screen, I’d cringe, groan, and feel deeply uncomfortable. I wanted her to lose against literally anyone. It was so bad I’d change the channel and check back later to see if her match was over.

As I’ve continued on this journey of self-acceptance and unpacking the human condition, I finally forced myself to sit through her matches and ask Frank’s question: What is she mirroring back to me?

And then it clicked. Aryna Sabalenka is unapologetically herself.

She is fierce, vocal, and unabashedly passionate. She shows her rage, screams when she’s frustrated, takes up physical and emotional space, and leaves it all on the court. She doesn't ask for permission to exist in her full power.

The discomfort I felt watching her wasn't about her at all. It was envy.

Growing up, I wasn't allowed to just be me. Like so many of us, I was conditioned from childhood to quiet down, temper my emotions, fit into the mould, and make myself manageable for others. Adulting only reinforced those rules. I spent years learning how to conform just enough to survive, all while stifling the raw, unfiltered parts of my spirit.

Watching Sabalenka do what I was taught never to do rubbed salt on an ancient wound. I was judging her because I was secretly judging myself for playing small. I envied her freedom to take up space without giving a damn whether the world was okay with it.

Now, when I watch her play, the cringe is gone. She’s no longer a trigger; she’s a reminder.

When we aren't self-aware, we project our unhealed wounds onto others. We turn people into villains simply because they have the audacity to live out loud in ways we were conditioned to suppress. But when we lean into the mirror, those triggers become our greatest teachers.

I don't look away anymore when she plays. In fact, during this year's US Open, I'm rooting for her.