The Truth in the Trigger
Author: Bianca Moeschinger
July 2025
We only find truth when we stop running from our triggers. These moments—raw, inconvenient, often uninvited—aren’t signs that something is wrong. They are signals. Invitations. A gentle, sometimes forceful nudge back to what has been waiting inside us to be felt.
Your Body Remembers
Our triggers carry the memories our mind has forgotten but our body remembers all too well. They show up when the past and present collide, when a familiar sensation brushes against something unresolved. They are not here to destroy us. They are here to show us where our attention still needs to go.
In these moments, the body speaks first. It tightens, pulls back, contracts. It does not lie. What we call a reaction is really a message—one that reveals what hasn’t yet been integrated. The more we resist, the more persistently it returns. And yet, when we pause—when we breathe, listen, and ask with curiosity instead of judgment—something shifts. A doorway opens.
The Trap of Comfort
We often confuse comfort with peace. But comfort that avoids the hard truths becomes a cage. We become buffered not only from our discomfort, but also from our growth, our joy, and our wholeness. Real peace only comes when we choose to be with what we would rather turn away from. When we decide that it’s time to feel what’s underneath.
Triggers as Feedback
The trigger is not the problem. It’s the feedback. The mirror. It reveals the gap between how we’ve learned to survive and what life is asking us to become. It’s the crack in the illusion—the place where light first finds us, if we’re willing.
Reflections of the Inner World
The world around us reflects what we hold within. Our experiences, our relationships, our conflicts—they speak of what we’re still carrying. They show us what we’ve yet to meet in ourselves. Every time we find ourselves in a familiar spiral, a repeated frustration, it’s not just about the other person. It’s a message, a mirror, a lesson in disguise.
Learning to Hold Yourself
True healing doesn’t happen because someone else rescues us. It happens when we learn to sit with ourselves in the discomfort, when we can be with the pain without rushing to fix it. That’s where self-trust is born. That’s where the nervous system learns a new rhythm.
Place a hand on your body. Breathe. Whisper, “I’m here.” Do this when the wave rises. When your chest tightens. When you want to run. Stay a little longer. You’re not trying to fix anything. You’re just being with what is. That is enough.
Why I Teach This Work
This is why PEAT exists. Not to give you more information. Not to tell you who to be. But to hold the space, the structure, and the support so that you can remember. So that you can feel safe enough to come home to yourself.
We walk beside you while you learn to walk yourself back into your body, your truth, your timing.
My partner recently asked me why the psychosomatic therapy training was the one that stuck with me—when I had rejected so many other teachings, from school, my parents, and anyone who tried to tell me who I should be. I answered: because I had to face myself.
In a gentle and caring way, I had to face myself. I remember standing in front of a group of strangers, and they just looked at me—through me—with patience and space. I couldn’t look back. I felt so incredibly judged, but the judgment I felt wasn’t theirs. It was mine. It was my own shame, my own lack of self-worth, and the unbearable feeling that I was nothing but a failure.
At the time, my real estate business had collapsed. All I had left was me—and I believed that wasn’t enough. I thought, unconsciously, that if I didn’t reach the goal of what I perceived my parents expected me to become, then I was worthless.
But something happened in that room. I met people who accepted me. All of me. They showed me a different way of being—a way where I could sit with the parts of myself I had spent a lifetime running from.
Psychosomatic therapy training changed my life. And for that reason, I give my life to this teaching.
A Question to Sit With
What part of yourself are you still running from? And what might happen if you stayed, just for a moment, and listened?
You’re not broken. You’re remembering. You’re not too far gone. You’re arriving.
And you don’t have to do it alone.
To listen to the podcast please visit Under the Silence with Bianca Moeschinger
