Triggers

When a Colour Became a Trigger

For the longest time, I couldn’t look at the colour pink without feeling like I couldn’t breathe. It sounds almost silly to say out loud. How could a colour be terrifying? But triggers don’t have to make sense to anyone else.

My connection to pink was made in the room where I experienced childhood sexual abuse. The walls were pink, and that’s what I stared at to survive. My brain paired that colour with the worst moments of my life. So later, as an adult, any time I saw that same shade, my body went straight into panic mode. My chest would tighten, my heart would race, and I felt like I was back in that room.

I used to feel embarrassed about it. I thought, “It’s just a colour. Why can’t I handle this?” But the truth is, trauma rewires the way our brains and bodies protect us. A trigger doesn’t have to be logical to anyone else. It just has to exist. And it’s okay if it does.

What helped me over time was:

• Validating my feelings. I stopped calling my triggers “stupid” or “overreactions.”

• Gentle exposure with safety in mind. Slowly, I started buying small pink items that felt comforting instead of scary.

• Grounding techniques. Breathing, holding a soft object, or naming things I could see around me helped me stay in the present.

• Being patient with myself. Healing from triggers takes time, and that’s okay.

The most important thing I learned? Triggers are not a sign of weakness. They are a sign your body is trying to protect you. And with support, patience, and care, they can lose their power.

Today, pink is my favourite colour. It reminds me that healing is possible, and that things which once hurt can become neutral, or even beautiful, with time.

[Read our page about Triggers here]