You can also listen to the episode on my Altitude Shift podcast.
We all get emotionally triggered at work. No matter how senior, smart or stoic you are, there will always be moments when someone gets under your skin.
It might be the colleague who keeps cutting you off mid-sentence. The guy two desks over with the booming voice. That team member who, without fail, turns up three minutes late to every meeting. Or the client who simply responds with ‘yes, fine’ to your carefully crafted emails.
I get triggered all the time. I get triggered by slow people. By people who always think they know better and give me unsolicited advice. I get triggered by noisy eaters. And I genuinely believe there’s a special place in hell reserved for Brits who pronounce it “isssues” with a sharp S.
But this article isn’t about pet peeves. It’s about what’s really going on beneath the surface when someone triggers you like that and how to handle it with composure rather than reactivity.
We’ll look at what happens in the brain and body and why some people activate us more than others. I’ll also talk about the flip side – when you are the one who’s triggering someone else?
This article will show you how to respond with emotional authority and stay in charge of yourself when it matters most.
What happens in the brain when you’re triggered
Let’s start with biology.
Say someone interrupts you, challenges your thinking, dismisses your input – or, I don’t know, just exists within your peripheral vision. That heat in your chest? The clench in your jaw? That’s your body entering a mild fight-or-flight state.
Your amygdala, the brain’s threat detector, has just hit the alarm. It’s on high alert for danger and doesn’t always discriminate very well.
Meanwhile, your prefrontal cortex, which is responsible for sound judgment, language, empathy and impulse control, goes dim.
All of this means you’re no longer thinking clearly. You’re reacting.
To an outsider, nothing major might have happened. But internally, your system is treating it like a security breach.
Think of the amygdala like a smoke alarm. It’s designed to detect fire. But it’ll still go off if you burn the toast. The noise is real, even when the threat isn’t.
It doesn’t just end there. Because your brain doesn’t just react; it predicts. It looks for patterns, even when none exist.
That’s why one interruption quickly becomes, “She never lets me finish.” And one passive-aggressive comment becomes, “He’s trying to undermine me again.”
Within milliseconds, your brain turns an ordinary interaction into a telenovela about your status, safety and identity work. And whether that story is true doesn’t matter because your body will act as if it is.
That’s the power of a trigger. It distorts the facts and inflates the meaning.
Reframing triggers: signal, not threat
All of this is happening below the surface. That’s why recognising early physical and emotional signals is so powerful.
Most people experience a trigger as a kind of injustice. A comment or tone that lands wrong and immediately feels like a violation: disrespectful, unfair, not how we expect to be treated.
And because the brain loves a pattern, the story builds quickly: “They always do this.” “No one ever listens to me.” We generalise. We spiral.
But not every trigger explodes. Sometimes it’s quieter. A flicker of irritation. A drop in your energy or a subtle shutdown like going quiet, getting defensive or over-apologising in a meeting.
Even if you know it’s not personal, your nervous system might still treat it as such. Not because of what just happened, but because of what it touched.
Here’s my unsolicited advice: treat the trigger as information. A little piece of emotional data. A sign that something unresolved has just been poked.
People talk about pushing buttons. But it’s rarely a button. It’s usually a bruise. Or an old scab that never fully healed.
That’s why your reaction can feel so outsized. Squeeze lemon juice on your hands, and it won’t hurt – unless you have a paper cut! Then it stings like hell.
And this is where transference comes in. That’s the psychological term for what happens when emotions from a past relationship get projected onto someone in the present.
A colleague pushes back in a meeting, and suddenly, it’s your old manager again. Or your boss uses a sharp tone, and it lands like your mum’s disapproving voice.
You’re not reacting to them, but you’re reacting to who they remind you of.
Now, this doesn’t mean you should start unpacking your childhood at the next team meeting. But when that emotional spike hits, ask yourself one thing:
Who does this really remind me of?
That question won’t fix it, but it might just unhook you from the dramatic story you’ve been building about a simple moment that just happened between two people. And that’s often enough to help you stay steady.
Rapid reset: regulate yourself first
Understanding what’s happening physiologically and emotionally when you’re triggered is only the first step. Insight alone doesn’t regulate your system. You still have to deal with the surge – the spike of injustice, the flash of annoyance, and the urgent impulse to react.
Before you rush to solve the situation or reframe the story, you must steady yourself first. Or at least, just steady enough to pause the telenovela.
When that heat rises (the quickening pulse, tight jaw, or jolt in your gut), this is the moment where most people act, often also where things go sideways. As I said earlier, when you’re emotionally charged, your thinking narrows, and your options shrink. But if you can catch that wave and stay composed, you’ll respond more wisely.
Here are five tools to shift your state in real-time:
1. Name the emotion (quietly, to yourself)
Labelling what you’re feeling – frustration, shame, defensiveness – engages your prefrontal cortex and begins to dial down the threat response. It creates a little space between the emotion and your next move.
2. Ride the wave, don’t fuel it
That chemical spike where your brain gets flooded with adrenaline and cortisol peaks in about 90 seconds unless you keep it going by mentally feeding it. Let the urge pass. Stay still. Stay silent. Let your body settle.
As Mel Robbins puts it in The Let Them Theory: let them interrupt, let them be sharp, let them be them. Then, decide who you want to be. That pause is where your composure lives.
3. Use your body to calm your mind
In a previous article, I covered a breathing technique called the physiological sigh: one deep inhale, a second smaller inhale at the top, and a long exhale through the mouth.
Or simply roll your shoulders, unclench your jaw, and put your feet flat on the floor. These aren’t just gestures; they’re signals to your system that you’re safe and will shift how your brain responds to triggers.
4. Get curious, not furious
Triggered brains leap to conclusions because they invent motives and assign intent. Curiosity disrupts that loop. Even something as small as “What else could be going on here?” can slow your reaction and open up new options. Trust me, it is literally impossible to be curious and defensive at the same time.
5. Reset your internal dialogue
Your self-talk in the heat of the moment matters, so I would swap thoughts like: “This is ridiculous” for “This isn’t personal.” Or “This is pressure, not disrespect.”
You’re not gaslighting yourself by doing this, but you’re giving yourself an extra few beats before you respond. That little additional context can be enough to move you out of instinct and into intention.
When should you say something?
What if the moment still doesn’t sit right, even after you’ve done the inner work there and then? Do you speak up?
Sometimes, yes, but how and when you do matters.
First, don’t tell people, “I’m feeling triggered.” Not because it’s untrue but because in most workplaces, it signals fragility. And it can sound like you’re holding someone responsible for pressing on a nerve they didn’t even know existed.
Instead, opt for more grounded language that describes your reaction without blaming the other person:
“That came across a bit sharp. Can I check how you meant it?”
“I feel a little taken aback. I think I just need a second to process.”
“Something in that delivery felt off. Can we pause for a moment?”
Notice how you’re not accusing anyone of doing anything here. You’re merely flagging that something’s up for you and that alone can reset the tone.
It helps to have a phrase like this in your back pocket. So pick one of the above, rehearse it in a neutral tone and have it ready to go. Picture yourself saying it calmly, clearly and unapologetically.
If you feel the moment has passed or the meeting has moved forward, but you’re still processing, you can always follow up later with that person. You can keep it low-key:
“That moment earlier felt a bit off. Do you mind if we clear the air?”
“Can I circle back? It might be nothing, but it didn’t quite land right.”
And sometimes, you say absolutely nothing. Not to avoid the issue, but because your reset worked, and you stayed steady. You shifted the dynamic, and that was enough.
What if you are the trigger?
Let’s flip the lens here and talk about what would happen if you were the one who triggered someone else.
If you have enough self-awareness, you might pick up that someone may go a little quiet or their energy has shifted. There’s a sudden chill in the room, and even though you might not know what you said wrong, you can feel something landed badly.
That’s okay, and it doesn’t make you a bad person. It just means you might have pushed a bruise you didn’t know was there.
It’s essential now that you resist the urge to defend or explain yourself too quickly because clarifying your good intent doesn’t erase the harmful impact it caused. And moving in to protect yourself too soon can make the other person feel even more unseen.
Instead, pause and notice the shift. Then, if it feels appropriate:
“Hey, I noticed you went quiet after that. Are we okay?”
“That seemed to land harder than I meant it to. Let me know if you want to talk.”
Or, again, if the moment has passed, you might circle back later:
“I’ve been thinking about that moment. If something felt off, I’m open to revisiting it.”
“I meant that differently. But I can see how it may have felt.”
This isn’t about being overly cautious or walking on eggshells around others, but cultivating relational awareness. It’s about recognising that your words have an impact and being willing to take responsibility for that impact if something lands the wrong way.
Conclusion: Respond, don't react
If you find yourself getting triggered at work, it doesn’t mean you’re fragile. It means your nervous system is doing exactly what it’s designed to do: scan for threats, flag discomfort, and protect you from perceived danger.
But if those spikes are happening often, that’s valuable data. It usually means some old bruises or unresolved patterns need your attention. And no matter how thoughtful your colleagues are, it’s not their job to tiptoe around them.
That might mean working with a coach and talking to a therapist. Or be more honest with yourself about the patterns you keep playing out.
Because the goal isn’t to be unbothered or emotionless, it’s to become more emotionally steady. To notice the spike, name it, and choose your next move with a bit more perspective.
I’ve talked a lot about emotional authority today, but this is really about emotional maturity. It’s about choosing response over reaction. Swapping blame for self-awareness. And instead of asking why someone pushed your buttons, start to ask why those buttons are still so sensitive.
It’s exactly in developing that self-knowing that you’ll find the most meaningful growth. After all, self-awareness and self-regulation are two sides of the same coin. Master one, and the other gets easier.
One day I might even deal with my own iSSues. Assuming I can stop triggering myself with all this unsolicited advice.
