Are happy people less easily offended or emotionally triggered?

This thought-provoking post by Claudia, from lifeofcloud.net. draws connections between mental health and the so-called cancel culture. She suggests that personal trauma or other emotional insecurity contribute to unreasonable demands for the censorship of others. I think there are two key omissions from her argument. People who have been historically discriminated or attacked in their society are understandably and, perhaps, rightfully triggered by their oppressors. Whilst their demands for outright legal censorship may undermine freedom of speech values, their demands not to be belittled or abused in normal interaction, whether in the form of humour or tradition, are completely reasonable.

Secondly, some of the biggest cases of censorship are not offended individuals or groups but corporations and governments that hide evidence to pursue certain policies, sell their products and entrench power. The personalised mental health model of censorship fails to address, perhaps, the most pressing and important issues of corporate and governmental censorship for profit and power. Nonetheless, from the point of view of the individual and building resilience to hearing opposing views and being offended, which is important for any functioning society, I think it has real value.

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Are happy people less easily offended or emotionally triggered?

This is the question that arose in my head today. It came into thought because I’m part of an email that recommends “banned books”. They’re not truly banned, but they often look at, are a commentary on, or question the idea of “cancel culture”. 

And then I began to reflect on the people closest to me in my life, including my husband and some expat friends I’ve formed over my years in Paris; they are all not easily offended, they all hold an air of, “That really doesn’t bother me at all/Their opinion doesn’t invalidate my experience,”, and they all are anti-”boycott” and anti-“cancel culture” because they don’t see it as a solution to a problem, merely an emotional reaction to a trigger.

One Year of Darkness in the Sunshine State – reflections on moving away

By Rossy; https://romyboattt.com

In a few days, I make one year since I moved to Florida. My fiance got a job and they said he had 2 weeks to move or he would lose it. We were in a pandemic, it was winter, it was almost Christmas, we weren’t financially ready, but we figured it out and me and my toddler packed up with daddy and left a home that was all I had ever known for 29 years. Moving from New York City to Florida was not easy. I had never lived without my mom (except for that one time I moved to Ohio for 3 months because I was getting over a break up) I had never lived anywhere that wasn’t my bedroom in Queens, New York. I moved to Florida with no friends, no family, no job, just a suitcase with my clothes in it. It has been the hardest year of my life in all ways. I thought moving to Florida would be the answer to all my problems because i’d be leaving a toxic household. It wasn’t though. I didn’t realize that being away from one problem, would just give me alone time with all my other problems. I’m still adjusting and understanding, but after a difficult, long but necessary trip back to New York City after being away for so long I realized that the only reason I hated Florida was because I wasn’t used to the peace it allowed me. Let me explain in true Romyboattt fashion. Here’s some things this past year has shown me.

Understanding Peace– I was away from a household that caused me pain for years. And i know that it sounds like “okay girl whats the problem?” But look, when it’s all you known your whole life, its very hard to ever feel like you deserve anything better than what you grew up in. My parents weren’t the worst, I wasn’t the best daughter either but a lot of who I am, is because of how I was raised and the things that were said to me growing up. When I moved here, I had a really hard time adjusting to being the one who made all the rules. I wouldn’t allow myself lazy days or allow myself to eat whatever and whenever because for so long staying in bed or eating junk food was a problem. I wasn’t used to peace and quiet and having a place where my energy was in charge.

Not another F*ing Christmas? Reflecting on childhood memories

By Halima; https://halimasnoussi.wordpress.com/

When we think about healing we often envision a great big light at the end of an uphill ride full of sunshine and smiles. The truth is healing is more like a rollercoaster. Full of ups riddled in anticipation and excitement and crushing, stomach tightening and frightening downs, such as is life. Healing comes in fully accepting and embracing all these moments as they are.

Winter isn’t an easy time for many of us. For those healing from trauma and abuse, it’s also a time where grief tends to sneak back in.

Winter and all its celebrations are a constant yearly reminder of all that we lost as children and now as adults. Because let’s be honest, time does not heal all wounds. The wound that is left by the grief of being in survival Self only grows deeper the longer it is left to be. Because it’s not just the childhood that we lost. It’s all the moments as adults where we couldn’t be ourselves that are still stolen from us.

Conan – adopting a kitten

From: https://dontworrydoyourbest.home.blog/

The day after I had failed my driver’s test, my husband had to drive me home from work since I obviously couldn’t do it myself. As I was gathering my things from the car, he starts walking towards our apartment, but stops right at the bushes planted around the outside of our building. 

“A kitten just ran inside the bush!” he loudly whispers.

When I looked inside the bush, I saw this shivering, scrawny, angry ball of orange fur. It had rained that day so he looked like more like a drowned rat than a kitten. He let us know how pissed off he was about his current situation of being wet and cold in a damp bush with quiet hisses that sounded like air being let out of a bicycle tire. While trying to get him out of the bush, he scratched my husband’s arms with his paper cut claws, prompting me to grab a towel to wrap the kitten in so he wouldn’t maim either of us as we brought him into the bathroom.

Spicy Kitten immediately hid in the corner behind the toilet the moment he was set down on the floor. He viciously swatted at anything that got too close, including the soy sauce dish I had put a little milk in. I left it with the spilled milk and messaged a friend who fosters kittens for advice, who told me to create a safe space for him and sit with him while calmly talking to him. I had an extra cat bed our other cat, Scarlett, never uses and I had just gotten a couple boxes that day for the purpose of shipping stuff.