The conference room lights were turned off, but there was plenty of light filtering through the blinds from two large windows behind the desk in the corner of the room. I was dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, a sweater, a down coat, and a beanie. It was a cold Texas morning, and I was prepared to be out in the elements. For me, there was an air of excitement and anticipation, and the natural light felt magical, and I noticed it upon stepping into the room.
A few days prior, I received a call asking if I would like to be a part of an opportunity to coach an executive group through a teambuilding exercise with horses. I am already a volunteer at the barn where this event will occur, so who I am and what I do are known. Grateful for the opportunity, I said yes, which led to me being in the conference room on that cold January morning a few days later.
Another community member was also asked to join the meeting with me and the directors. After brief introductions, we began the planning process for the teambuilding group arriving in a few weeks. The directors called on the expertise of those of us in the room who have experience with teambuilding and horses. I have both, which makes me a valuable asset, but I didn’t realize how much I would need to step into my power to believe it.
The excitement I arrived with soon wore off. I was starting to sweat, but not because of all the clothes I was wearing. One of my trauma triggers had been hit, and I was beginning to armor up. The other expert in the room was my senior with a decade more experience in leadership and coaching. Her tenure alone was intimidating. Moments like that always make me feel small. What do I have to offer that would be any different from someone with all that experience?
Armor is a psychological defense mechanism or coping strategy that individuals develop to protect themselves from emotional pain, vulnerability, or perceived threats. It involves adopting certain behaviors, attitudes, or thought patterns as a shield against potential emotional distress. People may develop emotional armor as a response to past traumatic experiences, fear of rejection, or other challenging circumstances.
I wasn’t triggered because of her knowledge, though. I was triggered before I even knew that information. As an empath, I read someone’s energy pretty quickly, and I have to say her energy walking into the room instantly made my body agitated. Like it knew what to expect before my mind did. My feelings were quickly validated when she started to speak. She was clearly going to be the only expert and made it known by the tone of her voice and the posture of her body. She came in hot and strong, so to speak.
As the planning continued, she dismantled my opinions, ideas, and thoughts and contradicted or left me unheard. I felt bullied, and immediately, my old energetic pattern - I’m not enough, I’m not good enough, I can’t do it right - reared its ugly head and decided to take over my mind.
When I’m triggered, a few physiological things begin to happen. My eyes get glassy, and I can no longer focus on any one thing. They feel like they get wide, but I don’t know for sure. I start to stress sweat, the kind that feels like your armpits are spitting. My shoulders roll in (to protect my heart), and no sound comes out of my mouth, even when words are in my head. I have an inability to speak. The room feels like it’s closing in on me and my breathing becomes slow and shallow.
This is not new to me; it’s learned from trauma, and it’s the freeze portion of the fight, flight or freeze nervous system responses to stress. This is how my body has learned to survive and stay safe. Through all my therapy and coaching, I have been able to describe precisely what happens when I armor up. While frustrating when it happens, the tools and strategies I’ve learned over the years help me make an informed choice on how to move forward when it does.
Unfortunately, while I was sitting in the conference room, aware that my armor had gone up, I couldn’t quite drop it, which only irritated me more. If you could have been in my brain at that moment, you would have witnessed a very dramatic, soap-opera-esque dialogue between myself and my trauma.
Soon after the planning, we left the conference room and walked out to the arena, where five mini horses were waiting for us to run through practice exercises with them. Finally able to leave the room, I could focus on my breath and calm my nervous system. I stepped out of the building, and the minute the cold air blasted my face, the unique smell of a horse and country air hit my nostrils, I remembered how I wanted to show up this year. I want to rise.
Annually, I choose a word of the year as a touchpoint for my intentions. One word that sums up my goals and feeling states for the year ahead. This year is an acronym RISE: Read-to Intentionally Stand Everyday.
It’s one thing to be aware that you’ve been triggered and how that looks and feels, but it takes a different level of courage to actually set it down and move forward.
The way I saw it, I had two choices*: stand down and stay quiet, or rise and step into the reason I was asked to be there in the first place, no matter how uncomfortable. I chose to rise.
*It’s important to note here that there is only a choice if the situation and/or person(s) involved are physically and emotionally safe for you. For far too long I stayed in relationships and situations that were not safe. While arrogant, in this case, the other person was not hurting me; I was simply responding to parts of her that reminded me of past trauma.
There were two pieces of evidence working in my favor. First, I was asked to be there because of my expertise. I did not seek out this opportunity, therefore making it difficult to believe I didn’t belong there. They wouldn’t have asked me otherwise. The second were the horses themselves. Horses are truth seekers and will respond accordingly when you step into your truth. I decided to play around with this particular element. I knew they would validate me when I stood up for myself.
Throughout the simulated teambuilding, I had my own internal practice happening. I was leaning into courage and overriding my armor by offering suggestions and opinions when asked and otherwise stepping into the leader role as someone with teambuilding skills. As expected, the horses did not disappoint! The more I stepped into courageously being myself the closer they came to me. They nuzzled my arm, and one of them enjoys his hips being scratched just like my Aussies, so he kept turning his rear toward me for a good scratch. A sign that he was not only comfortable but also showing me I was standing in truth. They validated me so much so that they became a hindrance, and we had to “shoo” them away!
By that time, I was in a much better place. Throughout all of this, I didn’t change her behavior. In fact, I didn’t say anything to her at all because it wasn’t about her in the first place. All of this happened internally. My armor was triggered by something in her that was too closely related to my trauma and my body responded through muscle memory to protect itself.
How often does that happen to you? There is just something in another person you don’t like because it reminds you too much of a negative or painful experience or person.
We all carry around some armor and use it, most of the time mindlessly, to protect ourselves. And the older we get, the more armor we have, but the more we use it, the more disconnected we become. It takes a toll on our mental well-being.
Learning how to understand it and not allow it to hold you back is an essential key to living a richer life. Otherwise, all the jack-asses out there will take up too much time and energy in your mind, and they don’t deserve it.
I could have stayed in the space of hiding from the perceived threat, but with awareness, I was able to tear down my armor and step into the light. This is living a wild life.