Triggered While Traveling

It’s been said before and it’s worth repeating…

Travel is a gift

Travel offers a shift in perspective

Travel is a MAJOR privilege - now more than ever

AND

Travel can be super challenging, and sometimes ever triggering!

In the past few years, I’ve been lucky enough to do a fair amount of traveling and I’m often reminded that “no matter where I go, there I am.” This sentiment has been intensified by returning to places where -ish has gone down in the past and inevitably being met with memories that are often accompanied by physical, emotional, and/or mental symptoms with varied degrees of intensity aka triggers.

At this point in my healing, I don’t necessarily view triggers as “bad’. Instead, I see them as an opportunity to examine my own inner workings, notice what’s circulating and percolating, and maybeeeee even practice the sacred pause BEFORE reacting/responding. With this reframe, our triggers really can be gifts, but I like to think of them more as clues. When I start to feel some type of way (or maybe have reacted in a heightened or uncharacteristic way), I get to put on my detective hat (and maybe even a monocle) and follow the trail back to the root of the problem. And surprise, surprise - it’s usually the same ol tired story as before. 

Never waste a good trigger… 

Warning: this story has multiple side stories, a few opportunities for background reading if you want to catch up on things I’ve written in the past, and of course tons left out. Feel free to tumble down the rabbit hole of my words or stick to skimming the highlights

As someone who lives with PTSD (and probably cPTSD although not officially diagnosed, and also self-diagnosis is just as valid, and also I should maybe just have this conversation with my therapist), there are times where life can feel like a bit of a mine field. Often, their detonation potential is intimately linked to a geographical location, as sometimes my stuckness looks like replaying memories while vividly recreating the scene. But also, my triggers have found me while traveling to new places. I’ve written lots of words in the past about my thoughts around trauma and even a whole year’s of stories in a previous blog so I won’t spend time here lamenting on words that have already been written but feel free to dive down that rabbit hole. And, yep they are longer AND let’s just go ahead and assume that a wide range of TW given the topics - read when resourced. TL;DR 2023 was not my favorite year but also included plenty of magic and I have lots of strong opinions about errbody suddenly being “trauma-informed”

Quick math reveals that I’ve spent almost 70 days in Costa Rica. These trips have most definitely been filled with magical animal sightings, stunning landscapes and joyous memories. AND I’ve also had multiple panic attacks and wtf moments, been broken up with in a super unkind way and then “stuck” with that person who continued to act like a complete asshat narcissist, and experienced some of my darkest thoughts and spirals.

Back in 2019, I wrote a (much shorter) blog called “Dealing with Pain in Paradise” 

Still too many words? I almost broke my thumb in Costa Rica and then acted like a lil brat in the days between falling and seeing a doctor. 

Update: I mostly stand by my sentiments, 6 years later, as I’m still dealing with the after effects of taking those silly stairs too quickly while wearing the wrong shoes #costaricaproblems

Costa Rica has this funny lil way of giving me exactly what I need - even if it feels unsavory in the moment. There’s just something about this magical little patch of land that meets the ocean flushed with jungle that lovingly yet fiercely pushes my -ish to the surface to be bravely faced and dealt with.

This last trip (August 2025), I was determined to make the most magical one yet. I wanted to reclaim this time for myself, rewrite my story and meet myself in the places that had been the backdrop for so much heart hurt. 

And… 

Ready or not, here they come!

Per usual, I arrived a few days pre-retreat to acclimate. I had a grand plan +  lots of back up via friends who were just as excited to be there as I was. I also arrived already burnt out from a recent (and sudden) closing of a yoga studio (and subsequent loss of community, income, and stability). The way that everything had gone down had sent me into action Jackson mode (yes, I just made that up) and I hadn’t really taken any time to pause and process. I spent my energy organizing and being in service to the community - and ya know, avoiding my own closure. 

The first day in San Jose was spent laughing, dancing, and taking some really amazing photos while exploring the building and neighborhood. It was so validating to have my own excitement for the city reflected back. I felt myself releasing years of stories wrapped in shame and blame. 

Side story, that truly deserves it’s own full story, but not today:

A few months prior, I spent 3 weeks in Guatemala doing the mf-ing WORK on healing wounds from my previously mentioned ex as I revisited what I jokingly/not kidding referred to as “the scene of the crime”. Our break up extended multiple weeks (and countries) while he did his best to tear me down while stoking his fragile ego. Returning two+ years later felt like I was walking concurrently with multiple versions of myself: past, present and probably future. Meeting myself in all my stress, confusion and pain while simultaneously reclaiming the space for myself. Lake Atitlan truly is a magical lil vortex AND it’s filled with folks who desire to profit off your trauma. Err body offers ayushcua ceremonies or soul retrievals or sacred tantric bodywork or psychedelic breath work ecstatic dance consciousness combo overload or even ritualistic tattoo (how I personally chose to heal - oopsies and THANK YOU to elfa mystic ink). My time here was spent in deep reflection and a bit overwhelmed with all the ways in which one could potentially heal. My biggest regret: cancelling my therapy appointment. I spent a lot of time in "freeze" mode and probably could have moved through a lil better with a lil support.

Ok one more quick side story:

My first trip to Uvita was in 2021 with my brother. This adventure included a life changing excursion to Isla de Cano - a protected island off the coast of Costa Rica that was known for its biodiversity. I fell in LOVE with snorkeling with my first SEA TURTLE sighting to which I learned that it is indeed possible to scream and cry with a snorkel and goggles. This sparked my eventual desire to earn my open water scuba certification in May of 2025 from some amazing friends in Roatan, Honduras - Moana divers are THE BEST.

2025 could be boldly categorized as “the year I returned” and be multi-layered but most obviously, I returned to several places where trauma planted its seeds.

Ok whew…back to our current story:

We arrived at Selva Armonia a day before our other travelers - and another “scene of the crime”. I learned from Guatemala that I might experience some weird memories and feelings but I also made sure to keep my therapy appointment - just in case. 

Having an extra day - and my dive buddies with me - we decided to go back to Cano and dive this time. Great plan, but not-so-much in reality….

Without making a long story even longer, here’s what happened:

We made sure to tell our dive guide that we were brand new and wanted a little extra support in checking our gear and feeling prepared. He said “no problem, I’ve got you.” The conditions that day were terrible and our 90 minute rocky boat ride to the island was like an amusement park water ride - although, we did see some dolphins! By the time we arrived, I was a lil queasy and very soaked. We put on our wetsuits and I instantly felt hot and constricted. I found relief by quickly (and I thought discreetly) throwing up off the side of the boat. Welp…my not-so-discreet release prompted them to want to get me in the water first to potentially ease my quese. They geared me up and tossed me in, literally. I didn’t have time to check my gear or get familiar with my rented gear and I immediately experienced those consequences. My fin fell off, my snorkel broke, and I started to sink because I hadn’t blown up my vest - diving 101. The situation had escalated so quickly that I simply wasn’t in the right headspace to remember all the things nor was I given access to my dive buddy - also diving 101. I immediately needed my tank to breathe and eventually figured out how to blow up my vest as another guide rescued my fin. The water was choppy and with no snorkle, I had to continue to use my tank to catch my breath, which obviously was in a slightly elevated/panicked state after all the things. We finally descended, which went great, and were met with a murky, dark and thicccc ocean current 30ish feet below the surface. We briefly saw a shark swim past and then the visibility went from terrible to impossible -  we couldn’t see more than a foot in any direction. Any movement required 5x the energetic effort as the water was still choppy that far below the surface. At one point, I got separated from our group and was with another group. Throw in a weight belt malfunction that was mediated by another diver and I was questioning all my life choices that led me to this moment. After about 20 minutes, our dive was called for safety and we resurfaced. I instantly knew that my nervous system had taken a hit and was already considering IF I should do the second dive.

Luckily, storms were still a’brewing so our guides opted to cancel the second dive and instead we took a hike on the island and I got my bare feet back in the dirt, and mud, and my land legs back. The ride back was mostly uneventful but just as wet and bumpy (and no dolphins) - I used all my tools to stay in my body and make it back to the mainland.

Upon arrival back in phone service territory, I was met with A LOT of messages from my travelers who were arriving at the airport and making their way to the retreat center. I quickly solved all the problems and we made our way back to the retreat center. I tried my best to ground and rest but was still monitoring progress and making sure folks got where they needed to go. That first shower post-dive was quite memorable. The gushing water made me slightly dizzy, almost like I was still on the amusement park ride.

Our retreat week continued with many magical highs:

Seeing mama and baby whales

Hot tub karaoke 

Meal time connections and conversations

Jungle birds and monkey sightings including my favorites: macaws!!!

And sure some -ish:

One person leaving halfway through

Me over-scheduling myself and not taking time to rest

Me being hit with a surprise spiral of grief and heartache

Also, for the first time in a few years…I invited a friend to share my room which was great AND it automatically gave me less time to process, rest and integrate the happenings. 

I could feel my own internal storms ‘abrewin’ but I did my best to observe them without getting too caught up in them. I was feeling pretty confident so I made a choice to cancel my therapy session the morning of, which I promptly turned around and rescheduled a few hours later when the storms made it to shore. 

In the moment, I felt like nothing “bad” had really happened, and I was a little confused as to why I was starting to spiral downward in my ability to regulate my emotions. I was being more reactive and clingy and feeling less self-assured and confident. I started seeking external validation which surprise, surprise didn’t give me the oh-ah sensation I was craving. 

Now feeling slightly disassociated, I unconsciously repressed them. Partly because of uncertainty of how they would be received and partly because the last person I let me see in that way rejected and blamed me. Therapy helped and I continued on while still feeling a lil shaky on the inside. I felt myself getting more and more depleted as the week continued.

What had originally seemed like a spacious schedule had morphed into very little time “off” for me and minimal solo time to decompress. The energetic cost to show up and be “on” for my guests started to grow and I felt myself withdrawing and disconnecting while simultaneously craving attention and affection… 

Landing back in San Jose, post retreat, I felt a sense of relief in being by myself for a few days. There was something really special about being alone in a larger city and being unknown. And I still didn’t rest. I took meetings, caught up on emails, and did boss bitch shit of handling my fledgling business while being in another time zone and country. I remember feeling proud and accomplished.

The -ish hit the fan when I arrived back home. I landed at 8:30pm and taught the next morning at 9:30am followed by back to back weekends of YTT. I thought I had done myself a solid and had a few guest teachers and my students would be teaching their midway project. What I didn’t account for was the lingering trauma that was yet to be processed + how my hypermobile body responds to unprocessed -ish. I did however learn that heating pad yoga is totally a thing.

As it tends to do, the emotional portion of processing the past month didn’t make its grand appearance until things got more quiet. I don’t always transition with ease back into Charlotte life and I must say that this particular one was the rockiest one, maybe ever. I was confronted with all my insecurities as my abandonment issues piled on top of one another mixed with a healthy splash of being woefully underemployed but somehow still having way too much to do.

Hello, crash and burn. 

It would take me several weeks to come back to myself. 

I set boundaries that were best for my healing that wouldn’t create unhealthy (and unwanted) patterns of codependency. 

I sat with my immense grief for not just recent loss but the weight of last year's losses - both personal and collective.

Short version: I was a hot mess express (lovingly and compassionately self-diagnosed)

I went back to the basics of nourishing self care which included ordering doordash and groceries delivered, tons of naps, honest therapy sessions, 90 minute massage, and a rather insightful craniosacral therapy appointment. 

While receiving CST, I went back to that moment while in the water:

The expansive yet absolutely unseeable ocean

The vast emptiness

The immense pressure of the surrounding water

Like being surrounded by a dark vortex

The feeling of being abandoned

Lost within the abysmal abyss

I knew then that that moment was the start of it all. How my choice to scuba before the retreat sent my nervous system into “oh sh*t” mode.

And how my other choices contributed to further dysregulation while already being in the mine-field of past memories.

And how continuing to pour from an empty cup temporarily shattered the cup

I wanted to beat myself up for the obvious hindsight and ways in which I set myself up for “failure”.

My therapist helped in the process of rebuilding my cup while reflecting back to me all the ways I did actually make good choices to meet myself in that triggered moment. 

I rescheduled with her

I set good boundaries when I needed space

I communicated my feelings clearly and concisely

Yes, it sucked

And, spiral out, keep going

While preventative care is always best, knowing how to pull ourselves back up without numbing or hiding may also require discernment and nuance. Once I go down into the depths, it may take a bit more compassionate effort and space to “be”.  And, I will come back up to the surface. While I may often get stuck in my past, I can also remember that I have a 100% success rate of coming back to my own magic. The more kind I can be to myself when I’m going through the -ish the easier my reentry.

I took time to reflect on the warning signs in hopes that maybeee I can stop my next descent before I tumble further down than is necessary. My working hypothesis is that if/when I recognize the earlier signs then I will have the opportunity to make different choices which potentially could alter my outcome. I like to imagine there will be a positive outcome AND this is never before charted territory so it feels more hypothetical than actual. AND I love a good experiment. 

I have also made steps to better manage my energy outputs while leading retreats. This looks like hiring more people to teach or taking advantage of the offerings of the location/retreat center. I’ve also decided to no longer offer 1:1 sessions to everyone while on retreat. This was a hard one for me as I have truly valued the 1:1 time with people, and this choice allows for me to conserve my energy which will (hopefully) allow me to have more organic interactions aka I can hang out instead of hibernating in my room. And hand to heart, NO MORE active activities the day that folks are arriving!!! Only massages and chillin’ so I can start off with my best self.  

While I can’t go back and change the past, I most definitely can learn from it. My triggers will find me regardless of location, and it appears that travel may serve as a catalyst as it often has put me in rather uncomfortable positions. Sometimes, I make good choices with a good attitude and sometimes I’m just a spoiled lil brat. Both versions of me have value and neither are worth attaching to.

Ya know...I wish I had a tidy lil ending but in reality there's not one. I'm (finally) finishing and editing this blog in December 2025 and worked on it while I traveled through part of Thailand solo which brought with it a new set of circumstances to process. It was a beautiful trip of complex truths. I may write more later but my preemptive TL;DR is that grief trips and work trips make strange bedfellows. My effort in combining them left me somewhat unsatisfied and feeling like I "failed" both trips. And ya know, I got food poisoning my last day in Bangkok which would lead me to question all my life choices that led me to that moment...

And so it goes...