Hidden emotional triggers are honestly the sneakiest little bastards I’ve ever met. Like, I’m sitting here in my apartment in Austin, Texas, 2:14 a.m., eating cold Whataburger out of the bag because the smell of that spicy ketchup just yanked me back to 2017 when my ex used to pick it up after fights, and suddenly I’m texting “you up?” to someone I swear I was over. That’s a hidden emotional trigger doing a victory lap in my brain and I hate it but also… kinda respect the hustle?
How My Hidden Emotional Triggers Turned Target Into Therapy
Last Thursday I walked into Target for toothpaste and walked out $187 later with throw pillows shaped like tacos. Why? Because the second I rolled past the dollar spot and saw those stupid little succulent planters, boom, instant 2019 pandemic flashback. I was stuck in my old Dallas apartment, repotting plants like a lunatic because it was the one thing I could control. My chest got tight, my palms sweaty, and next thing I know I’m stress-buying faux greenery like it’s March 2020 all over again. Hidden emotional triggers don’t care that I’m 34 and “have my shit together.” They see a $3 fake plant and scream “BUY THE TRAUMA RESPONSE, KING.”
The Gas Station Hot Dog That Almost Ruined Me
Real talk: gas station hot dogs are my personal kryptonite. I know they’re basically lips and assholes on a roller grill, but every time I’m on a road trip and I smell that specific mix of stale nacho cheese and despair, I’m eight years old again watching my dad grab one after little league. He’d always give me the first bite. He’s been gone twelve years now and I still buy the damn thing every single time. Hidden emotional triggers wrapped in sadness and processed meat — wild.
The Three Hidden Emotional Triggers That Own Me Right Now
- Nostalgia smells (Whataburger ketchup, gas station hot dogs, that one hotel lobby scent — I’m looking at you, Marriott)
- Songs that came out during breakups (if “Somebody That I Used To Know” plays in H‑E‑B I will literally abandon my cart)
- Seeing people hug their dads in public (instant waterworks, zero warning)
Trying (and Mostly Failing) to Fight Back
I’ve been attempting this thing where I pause and literally say out loud, “Okay, what hidden emotional trigger is driving the bus right now?” Sometimes it works. Like two weeks ago I almost bought a $70 candle that smelled exactly like my college dorm and I managed to put it back while muttering “not today, 2009.” Progress? Sort of. But then yesterday I cried in the Costco parking lot because someone was loading a trampoline into their truck and apparently that’s a core memory now. Whatever.
Look, I’m not fixed. I’m still very much a walking bundle of subconscious buttons and emotional puppet strings. But naming the hidden emotional triggers out loud — even when it’s embarrassing as hell — takes away some of their power. A little. Maybe. On good days.
If you’re reading this while stress-eating something that tastes like childhood, just know you’re not broken. You’re just… gloriously, messily human. Try saying the trigger out loud next time. Or don’t. I’m not your mom.
Outbound Links (sprinkled naturally into the post so it doesn’t feel like an SEO robot wrote it)
- That thing I do where I try to name the trigger out loud? Stole it from this article on emotional granularity — actually works sometimes: https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/23/well/mind/emotional-granularity.html
- The nostalgia smell rabbit hole is real. Scientists call it the “Proust phenomenon” (yeah, the madeleine guy). Here’s a quick read if you wanna feel fancy while crying over gas station food: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/why-do-smells-trigger-memories1/
