Struggles in Dating: Avoiding Triggers

In my previous posts on HER, I mention some of my struggles with dating. Many survivors struggle with a variety of triggers. I honestly hate that this word has been hijacked to somehow imply “people getting mad/upset.”

The American Psychological Association defines a trigger as

1. n. a stimulus that elicits a reaction. For example, an event could be a trigger for a memory of an experience and an accompanying state of emotional arousal.

2. vb. to act as a trigger.

One of my most prevalent triggers relates to my neck being touched and grabbed. I get flashbacks to the events described in I was 13…He tried to rape me. I see my abuser’s face. I can hear his energized exhales as he shoves his hand down my shorts. I can hear my own cries as I begged him to stop. I can feel his hand on my neck, pushing against my airway as his thumb dug into my flesh, his nail leaving an impression for several days. My heart begins pounding. Even just thinking of a trigger begins to trigger me. I’m currently just trying to steady my heart rate as I write this.

The first time I become aware of this trigger was years after the events described previously. In college, I was beginning to date a wonderful guy (my first real relationship in years). We were innocently kissing when he went to put his hand on the side of my neck. I gasped, my hand flew to my neck and grabbed his wrist in a death grip. I accidentally left my own nail scratches on him. He jumped back. I couldn’t breathe and had a panic attack. He was staring at me in bewilderment. “What happened?” his voice cracked. I couldn’t think straight. All I could manage was, “please don’t touch there,” while holding back tears. I think that entirely terrified him. We broke up only a few weeks later. I think he was terrified to even touch me after that.

Another experience occurred with Isaac (Fool Me Twice Part I and II). Isaac was the first person I really experienced intimacy with. Isaac and I had been making out when things turned a little heated. Isaac pulled my shirt off and tossed me onto the bed. He climbed over me and pulled me up to him by my neck. My whole body froze. My eyes locked shut and I shut down. Isaac stopped and his brow furrowed. “What?” he said with a touch of edge to his voice.

My voice was shaking, “Don’t do that. Just grab my back or shoulder or something.”

His brows remained knitted together. “Why?”

I had told Isaac very little about my assault and the abuse I sustained at a young age from a partner. He knew I had had some traumatic experiences, but at the time I was still psychologically repressing everything. I kept it locked away because I was honestly ashamed, and the thoughts of the assault felt like some distant, filthy nightmare. I wasn’t ready to address it, not even with Isaac. At the time, I fully believed I was in love with Isaac, but I couldn’t tell even him. I felt like it would change his views of me. I couldn’t even accept what happened to me, let alone tell someone else.

I looked deeply into Isaac’s eyes, pleading with him to let it go. “Just don’t, okay?”

He sat back on the bed, arms across his chest like a child. “Why don’t you just tell me? How am I supposed to not do something I don’t understand? You said it doesn’t matter so just tell me.”

I sighed and put my head in my hands, “Isaac, please.”

“You ruined the mood,” he said as he got up and pushed away from my bed.

I remember sitting on my bed, feeling filthy and broken. I felt like it was my fault. I ruined the mood. Honestly, it’s taken me a lot of time to realize just how abusive our relationship really was. There’s also another person this came up with after Isaac, but I haven’t yet mentioned anything about this person, and I will soon because it was relevant to my healing journey, but I am not quite ready to open that book and ruffle its pages.

But this is not why I’m writing this. Recently, I had an experience that seriously opened my eyes entirely to what a healthy relationship looks like with triggers. I have been seeing this person for a few weeks and we are still getting to know each other. He has absolutely no idea about my past with assault. Literally nothing. We were watching movies on the couch and he kissed me. We were turning up the sparks a little. This was the first alone time we had had in private. He went roll me under him on the couch, grabbing the side of my neck in the process.

I got triggered. I pushed back against his chest, trying to just not have a panic attack. He just froze for a moment and waited patiently for me to get my wits. I realized my eyes were clenched shut. I slowly opened them, expecting him to be wide-eyed. I was surprised when I saw his face was calm, but a little concerned.

I began apologizing, “I’m so sorry, you just touched my neck and I just sometimes get a little… um what’s the word, I’m sorry, I just…”

He cut me off, “Stop,” he said lightly rubbing my back. “You don’t have to explain something if you don’t want. If it’s bad and too much, then don’t worry. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

I was searching his eyes. I honestly didn’t know what to say other than, “Thank you.” I wrapped my arms around him and pressed the side of my face against his chest.

“You don’t have to apologize or say thank you, you know?

I pulled back and gave him a kiss, “I mean it though.”

He looked inquisitively at me, “Can you tell me where not to touch though? I don’t want to do that again to you.”

I took his hand in mine, “Here.” I closed my eyes, brushing his hand over the worst spot of my neck, trying to keep my breathing in check. “Not here… or here.” I moved his hand to my hairline and then to my collarbone, “These are okay, just not in between.”

He seemed to study these places for a few moments, “Okay.”

He never touched those spots again that evening. He didn’t panic. He didn’t demand answers. He was calm, respectful, and careful. I’m honestly still trying to wrap my head around it. I know that this is how it’s supposed to be. This how someone who respects you should treat triggers.

In the short time I’ve been involved with this guy, he continues to just astound me with his kindness, and I keep seeing all the green flags. I ignored many red flags for so long in previous relationships, it’s just odd seeing green ones for once! I must keep reminding myself that I deserve kindness. I deserve respect. I don’t have to tell anyone anything about my past assaults if I don’t want to. For the survivors moving past abuse, this is a reminder of the way healthy relationships should be. You shouldn’t have to feel ashamed about your past and what someone else did to abuse you. I didn’t have control over my past experiences. I have control now. [At least for now] I have a partner who is respectful of boundaries and isn’t pushing them. He isn’t asking why boundaries exist. Whether this is a learning experience or turns to something more, this has been a great reminder to my mind and body that healthy boundaries and interactions exist.