We’ve all been there, where someone makes an off-the-cuff comment and you feel triggered.
Maybe you know why, maybe you don’t, but all the same, that constrictive feeling inside of you is eating you alive.
For a friend of mine, it was the word fine.
She told me on a walk one day that she set a boundary in her relationship that she didn’t want her partner to use the word fine within the context of how he was feeling, or if they were deciding on something together, like a place to eat.
She didn’t want the answers to be things like:
“That’s fine.” “I’m fine.” “It’s fine.”
So she made it a boundary and expected the man that loves her very much to adjust.
And maybe that makes sense at first because it’s just a word after all. A word that clearly transports her back to a place where nothing was fine and something hurt. Where’s the harm, right?
But what we don’t always realize is that making a rule against discomfort doesn’t actually remove it—it just forces everyone around us to carry it instead.
I understand why. I’ve had words that felt like landmines, too.
Phrases that, when spoken, made my chest tighten and my body brace for impact. I know the temptation to control the outside world so it doesn’t set off something in me that I don’t know how to handle.
And for a long time, I thought that was what boundaries were for. Keeping myself safe. Guarding against the things that unsettled me.
But here’s what I’ve learned: that’s not a boundary. That’s a wound, wrapped in a rule.
A boundary says, I won’t stay in conversations where my emotions are dismissed.
A rule says, You’re not allowed to say that word around me.
One is about protecting peace. The other is about managing discomfort through control.
And control is a fragile kind of safety. It works—until the world stops cooperating.
I know, because I’ve tried. I’ve tried to make the world easier to hold. I’ve softened my edges and expected others to do the same. I’ve explained my sensitivities, drawn invisible lines, hoped people would meet me where I needed them to. And sometimes, they did. But other times, life kept handing me versions of the same discomfort, no matter how many ways I tried to avoid it.
Because healing doesn’t come from getting everyone else to walk more carefully. It comes from learning that you can walk steadily, even when the ground is uneven.
At some point, I had to stop trying to childproof the world.
You don’t need to ban words to feel safe.
You don’t need to make your relationships tiptoe-proof to heal.
You don’t need to turn discomfort into a rule for someone else to follow.
Because the goal isn’t to remove every reminder of the things that hurt. It’s to remind yourself that you can sit with discomfort and survive it. That you can hear fine—or whatever word it is for you—and recognize that its power over you was never in the word itself, but in the meaning you attached to it.
And meaning can change.
Healing isn’t about making the world easier to digest. It’s about making yourself strong enough to be in it without needing everything to bend to your triggers.
That’s not to say you don’t deserve understanding. You do. The people who love you should want to be mindful of your pain. But there is a difference between asking for care and expecting people to rearrange themselves around your wounds.
One leads to healing. The other just shrinks your world down to the safest possible version of itself.
And you don’t belong in a small world.
Soft Considerations
✨ Next time you feel the urge to set a boundary, ask yourself: Am I protecting my peace, or trying to control my environment?
✨ Notice when a word or phrase triggers you. Instead of shutting it down, get curious. What is this bringing up in me? Where have I heard this before?
✨ If a partner, friend, or loved one says something that stings, pause before reacting. Instead of, Don’t say that, try, When you say that, I feel…
✨ Let yourself sit with discomfort without rushing to fix it. Not everything painful needs a rule. Some things just need time.
✨ Remind yourself: safety doesn’t come from removing the trigger. It comes from knowing it can’t undo you.
Thank you for reading 🤍
to the brave thing,

If this post made you think, send it to a friend who needs to hear it too. Because we all deserve to unlearn, rethink, and find our own way forward.
And if you want more of these kinds of conversations—the raw, the esoteric, the stuff we don’t say out loud—join Everyday Esoteric. It’s where we go deeper, together."
💫 Want even more? As a paid member, you get:
Monthly Community Spotlights – Because this space isn’t just mine, it’s ours.
Intuitive Energy Readings – Cosmic insight with a side of real talk.
Exclusive Podcast Deep Dives – The thoughts I don’t say on the main feed.
A Marketplace for Growth (coming soon!) – Share, sell, and discover tools that expand us all.
Monthly Gatherings (Online & IRL) – Because connection should actually feel good.




