Facing My Own Triggers With Honesty Instead of Defensiveness
Facing My Own Triggers With Honesty Instead of Defensiveness
For a long time, I didn’t recognize my reactions as triggers—I thought they were just parts of my personality. Irritation, sharp words, withdrawal, or sudden tears felt automatic, almost justified. I believed I was simply responding to circumstances. But as our marriage grew deeper and more intentional, I began to see that many of my reactions weren’t about the present moment at all. They were echoes of old fears, habits, and insecurities I hadn’t fully acknowledged.
Before learning to face my triggers honestly, my first response was almost always defensiveness. If my husband pointed something out, I felt the urge to explain myself, justify my behavior, or redirect the conversation. I wasn’t trying to be difficult—I was trying to protect myself. Somewhere deep down, correction felt like accusation, and vulnerability felt risky. Defensiveness became my shield, even though it quietly created distance between us.
Domestic discipline gently dismantled that shield. It created a space where I couldn’t hide behind explanations forever. Accountability required me to pause instead of react, to listen instead of deflect. Over time, I realized that defensiveness was often a sign that something deeper had been touched. When I stopped arguing and started reflecting, I began to uncover patterns—certain tones, situations, or stresses that reliably stirred strong emotional responses in me.
One of the hardest truths I faced was that my triggers weren’t my husband’s responsibility to manage. They were mine to understand. He could approach me with patience and care—and he did—but growth required me to take ownership of what was happening inside me. That realization was uncomfortable, but freeing. It shifted me from feeling like a victim of my emotions to becoming a steward of them.
Learning to name my triggers changed everything. Instead of reacting, I began saying things like, “That brought up anxiety for me,” or “I’m feeling overwhelmed and need a moment.” Those words didn’t come easily at first, but they opened the door to real connection. When I spoke honestly instead of defensively, my husband didn’t meet me with correction—he met me with understanding. And that made it safer to keep going.
Correction also became less threatening once I understood its purpose. It wasn’t meant to suppress my emotions, but to help me respond to them in healthier ways. When my husband guided me through moments where I was triggered, he wasn’t minimizing my feelings—he was helping me ground them. That distinction mattered. It allowed me to stay present instead of spiraling inward.
Another unexpected gift was realizing how much calmer our conversations became. When I stopped reacting impulsively, discussions no longer escalated unnecessarily. We could talk through issues with clarity instead of emotion taking the lead. Facing my triggers honestly gave us language instead of tension. It turned potential conflict into collaboration.
This process also taught me compassion for myself. Triggers don’t mean I’m weak or broken—they mean I’m human. Many of them formed during times when I was simply trying to cope or survive. Acknowledging that allowed me to approach myself with the same grace my husband shows me. Healing didn’t require erasing my past; it required understanding it.
Over time, I noticed that my triggers lost their intensity. Situations that once sent me into defensiveness now feel manageable. Not because they never happen, but because I recognize them sooner. Awareness has given me choice. I can pause, breathe, and respond instead of reacting. That shift has been one of the most empowering changes in my life.
Facing my triggers with honesty didn’t make me less emotional—it made me more grounded. It strengthened my marriage by removing unnecessary barriers and inviting deeper trust. Instead of guarding myself against correction, I’ve learned to welcome it as a guide. And in that openness, I’ve found growth, peace, and a deeper connection to both my husband and myself.
Praise God, the entire time I was reading this I was nodding along in understanding! For me I was raised by a father who was quick with his backhand and it made me jumpy and anxious about displeasing anyone ever. It's probably ironic that domestic discipline is what has worked to change many of these triggers for me. Discipline and spanking is done prayerfully and with open communication, while when I was growing up I never knew what could make my father angry and why I was being hit for it. My husband has never once struck me in anger. I don't even know if he's ever been angry at me. But through careful discipline I have been able to trust him more, and I have been able to deepen my faith. I have even been able to trust myself more. When I stray or do something I shouldn't, I do not fear talking to my husband about it. Early in our marriage I guarded my heart against opening up to him. My husband is wise and he knew that my issues stemmed from my father's mean temper and I think he worked hard to demonstrate how different he is as a man. It is also why I am so rarely spanked and most of my spankings are used to center me towards Christ. I know my husband submits himself to Christ and not to his own ego.
ReplyDeleteDarcy, thank you so much for sharing this so honestly What you described about your childhood makes perfect sense, and my heart aches for that little girl who never knew when or why a hand might come at her. It’s no wonder you grew up jumpy, guarded, and anxious about displeasing people. That kind of unpredictability shapes a nervous system long before it shapes a theology.
DeleteWhat strikes me most in your testimony is not that you experience domestic discipline, but that you experience safety, clarity, and consistency within your marriage — the very things that were missing in your childhood. You weren’t healed by pain; you were healed by being seen, known, respected, and treated with intentional care. The discipline you describe is the opposite of what you endured growing up: it is prayerful instead of impulsive, explained instead of arbitrary, and rooted in love instead of anger.
I’m especially moved by what you said about learning to trust your husband — and yourself. That is such deep inner work. The fact that you can now speak openly instead of guarding your heart shows how much your husband has earned your trust through steady character, patience, and gentleness. That kind of transformation is rare and beautiful.
Your point about most of your spankings being meant to “center you toward Christ” really resonates with the theme of my post. At its best, accountability in marriage should draw us closer to God and to one another, not make us smaller or more fearful.
I also appreciate how clearly you named the difference between your father’s anger and your husband’s leadership. That distinction matters enormously — not just for your healing, but for other women reading who may carry similar wounds.
Thank you again for your courage in sharing this. Your story is a powerful witness to how grace, patience, and Christ-centered love can bring healing even to very old hurts.
By the way, does your husband know your past?
Yes my husband does know about my past. It's why neither one of us will allow my parents to babysit our children. I have two older brothers and two older sisters (all four MUCH older than me - I am 32 and they are 44-50 years old) and unfortunately my brothers are also like my father and I can see the pain in their children's faces. Both of my sisters have left the church and are openly atheists now, yet they remain very tender towards my children and are my kids favorite babysitters. They no longer speak to either of my parents and even to this day my father tries to intimidate me and my husband because he knows we allow our children lots of contact with their atheist Aunts.
DeleteIt's a complicated family dynamic to be sure. My husband and I started courting when I was 16 and he was 23 and he knew even then that dad was temperamental, but it wasn't until we were married and he realized how fearful I was of misdeeds that he knew the extent of it.
I sometimes feel as though I will never escape being a scared little girl on the inside, but I am stronger as part of a married unit, and stronger still with the Lord at my side.
Darcy, thank you for trusting me — and everyone reading — with something so personal and painful. I can hear how heavy this has been for you, not just in your past, but in the way it continues to shape family relationships even now.
DeleteYour decision about your parents babysitting your children is thoughtful rather than reactive. It sounds like you and your husband have prayerfully weighed both your children’s safety and your own emotional well-being, which is a form of loving leadership and responsible parenting. Protecting your children does not dishonor your parents — it honors the lessons you have learned.
The part about your siblings is heartbreaking and very revealing. The fact that your sisters left the church yet remain tender, loving, and safe with your children says something important: faith is not proven by harshness, and unbelief does not erase compassion. I’m moved that you have been able to keep those relationships alive for your children, even while navigating your father’s intimidation. That takes real courage and steadiness.
It reminds me that we can choose our friends and our spouses, but we cannot choose our family of origin. We don’t get to pick who our parents are or the homes we grow up in — but we do get to decide who we will become. You are living proof that it is possible to move forward, to set boundaries, and to make a firm vow never to repeat what you endured.
Your honesty about feeling like “a scared little girl on the inside” is something many women who grew up in volatile homes will recognize, even if they rarely admit it aloud. That feeling doesn’t mean you are weak — it means your nervous system learned to survive in a difficult environment. You are finding safety in your marriage, and deeper still in your relationship with the Lord.
What stands out to me most is how carefully you and your husband have walked this together — slowly, with awareness, and with mutual care. That is not something every couple has, and it is a real gift.
Thank you again for sharing this so openly. Your story is complex, tender, and deeply human — and I believe it will help other women feel less alone in their own journeys of healing.
-Lisa
I am sorry to keep replying but this conversation has really done something to my brain as I keep returning to it in my head.
DeleteI hope my earlier comments didn't suggest that I got married and immediately my issues resolved because my husband is nicer than my dad. This was years and years in the works and it's something I still have to actively work on.
My husband didn't realize how hard things were for me until my oldest kid was a toddler and I was acting like I had to 'protect' her from him when she was acting....well, like an unreasonable toddler. It deeply hurt him that I thought he was someone who would harm a toddler. But I was hit before I was even two years old. I got married young with very little worldly experience. How was I to know that most men just don't do that?
I don't think I truly started healing until less than two years ago and I saw the level of care he had for me and our family when I was struck by severe post-partum depression. We were already married over ten years at that point and that's how long it was before I really started connecting how I reacted to him with how my father was as a man. We've had so many conversations about it and have really gone deep into prayer and scriptures to help me heal. This last year of our marriage has really been something special with our level of communication.
My sisters are lovely people, but we do remain troubled by their atheism. We pray nightly for them and my most fervent prayer is for them to come again to Christ. However we are careful to never to push it on them because I do treasure their presence in my life. I believe God wants them to be believers and if there was anything I could do to guide them that way, I would. Instead we are trying to set a good Christian example for them, unlike the example they had growing up.
Oh Darcy, Not at all. I know that marriage has a lot of dynamics and takes enormous work.
DeleteSorry for the short answer. I am under the weather and not feeling very good and have very low energy.
I appreciate your honesty and transparency.
"Correction also became less threatening once I understood its purpose. It wasn’t meant to suppress my emotions, but to help me respond to them in healthier ways."
ReplyDeleteThis is a beautiful way to word the issue, Lisa. It is very difficult to accept correction of any kind, let alone in the context of CDD when it's my bottom on the line... and it is still instinctual sometimes to justify, defend myself, or "fight" what my husband tells me. But he is not quick to drop the hammer on me... or rather, the paddle... but instead, he is gentle and patient and makes it clear that his main goal is not to punish, but to make things, well, CORRECT again. To bring me back to baseline. He is not attacking me, but instead bringing to my mind the woman, wife, and mother that I truly am.
In that same way, it also extends to when he disciplines me... I am a bad kicker. It is not on purpose, but I just cannot stop my feet from flying when the paddle starts to smack my bottom. But he does not expect me to suppress my feelings or to stop crying, or to stop my natural struggling. While I hate it in the moment, he instead makes sure to pin my legs under his right thigh and bend me over his left thigh so my kicking cannot interfere. I am not struggling out of disobedience, and he knows this. And he never expects me to stop my crying or hold it in, either. Because truly... crying hard in response to a spanking IS healthy. Naturally kicking my feet IS a healthy way to express my pain, and I can simply let myself go completely and respond because my husband can hold me as still as he needs to. And it helps ME to ground my feelings, too.
It is sometimes difficult to simply state, "I am having a very bad day today and I am not ready to discuss it, but I will try again later". It is somehow difficult to acknowledge that I sometimes feel guilt about my negative emotions, as if I deserve to be condemned for having them in the first place. But that is straight from the devil. How we RESPOND is what truly matters. Even Jesus was tempted, but he did not sin.
Anyway, sorry for my rambling. I greatly appreciate your blog, Lisa!
- Maya
Maya,
DeleteI am going to attempt to go down point by point because I think you did not ramble but brought some interesting comments. First point. Understanding the purpose works with anything. Even my students work better if they understand the purpose.
Gosh it sounds like we share the same type of husband. He is patient and slow to punish.
The leg lock is powerful and little scary to me. I know when hubby does the leg lock on me it is going to be an intense spanking and I grab his leg and hold on for dear life. I cry every time and when it is a pretty intense spanking I do kick. To hubby it just proves that it is effective. I am usually a blubbering mess by the end of it.
Yes the ultimate example Jesus showed us how to handle every situation. Including being tempted.
Again you didn't ramble, you shared and I am so grateful for you sharing. Please share anytime you see fit.
-Lisa
I am glad I did not ramble!
DeleteYes, I agree. I think understanding the purpose of something makes you remember it much better, too! I know you get that, being a teacher! :)
We do... It sometimes makes me feel guilty when he is so patient, truthfully. But in the same way that I need to submit when he decides I need a spanking, I also need to submit when he decides that I do not, too. But he sure ain't a pushover either... some rules are lines you just do not cross!
For the leg lock, I both hate it and appreciate it. It makes it so I don't have to focus on anything other than the pain in my bottom... which is somehow liberating. I honestly don't know exactly what my feet are doing when he has my legs pinned but all I know is it sure doesn't get in the way of the paddle, lol. But somehow when I know there is nothing I can do to get away, it does make me more mentally ready to fully submit.
Thank you, and glad to have this conversation with you!
- Maya
Maya, You said it perfect.... I swear sometimes it is harder to accept him not spanking me than him spanking me. Sometimes I feel like I need to pay for the misdoings. But then he chooses not to, and I feel like screaming, "Spank me already!"
DeleteMy hubby also says, "Don't ever misconstrue my forgiveness as weakness"