How do you deal with microaggressions? I tend to oscillate between two outlooks in this department: on the one hand, I like standing up for myself and not letting anyone cross or undermine me; on the other hand, I’m aware that sometimes maintaining your composure is a sign that you are in control of your emotions and it can also be indicative of your inner strength, so not necessarily a sign of meekness. BK Shivani, a motivational speaker and spiritual mentor, said in one of her lectures that when someone directs negative energy towards you, you have a choice: you can either absorb the energy and internalise it without saying anything, thinking this is aligned with the notion of being a good person. You can throw it back at them, hence reflecting the energy and trying to hurt the other person even more. Or you can transform the energy and the pain and radiate love and respect. The most important thing is to be kind to yourself in how you respond. There’s no single “correct” way to handle these moments — some responses may be wiser or more constructive, but none diminish your worth. Rather than framing it as a matter of “what would be a more dignified response?”, it helps to recognise that microaggressions often stem from the other person’s unresolved insecurities. You have the right to choose your response in a way that feels authentic and safe for you. Removing myself from the situation is often how I deal with it, if that is an option. Remember that those who initiate the microaggressions are often the ones lacking both dignity and a moral compass.

I have encountered microaggressions in both professional and personal contexts. They often seem rooted in underlying issues such as sexism, misogyny (including internalised misogyny in the case of other women), xenophobia, and mental health stigma, especially during times when I undergo a challenging phase or reveal anything that indicates my mental health isn’t at 100%. This can also lead to gaslighting, as some people might use this aspect as a trump card as a way to deflect responsibility. Over time, I’ve learned to be more cautious about sharing my vulnerabilities. While factors like their jealousy may also play a role, I’ve come to understand that such behaviours often reflect the other person’s own struggles and feelings of self-loathing and disempowerment. I must say, the majority of people I’ve met and interacted with are not like this. I remain grateful for the many supportive and genuine relationships I have cultivated. Most of the time, I’ve been fortunate to be selective in my interactions and friendships.

This behaviour manifested itself through rather revolting attitudes that appeared to be designed to provoke a reaction from me, especially during moments when it was transparent I was not feeling well. While I tend to respond with empathy when I notice someone is visibly unhappy, either by offering support or giving space, I have noticed that not everyone approaches these situations with the same understanding. I’ve experienced moments when I was ridiculed for expressing emotion, judged for my fluid accent, interrupted mid-sentence, or even had my ability to interpret situations and understand others’ motivations questioned — often accompanied by thinly veiled, undermining remarks.

I’ve always been viscerally disgusted by this behaviour, yet I didn’t tend to acknowledge it unless it was directly and unambiguously offensive, generally. Why? I suppose out of pride — i.e. not wanting to give satisfaction to anyone engaging in this type of behaviour, since that’s most likely what they were after: a reaction, thus ignoring them tends to work in my favour because it makes them escalate the behaviour to ludicrous levels, and in their desperate hunt for a reaction they end up turning themselves into absolute clowns in my eyes and hopefully in the eyes of any other decent person who witnesses this type of decline. I also strive to maintain my resilience without positioning myself as a victim, especially when the behaviour is subtle or covert. This approach helps me channel my energy into positive interactions and personal growth rather than being drawn into negative dynamics and allowing them to define my sense of self.

I have learnt to accept that some people simply feel threatened or overshadowed by others’ energy even when others are simply existing; it’s pretty sad to think they feel inclined to act in such ways out of nowhere. When they encounter someone who is creative, intelligent, attractive, talented, or someone who is overall special in some way, the terminally insecure go into attack mode. They often resort to passive-aggressiveness. We have to ignore the obvious or veiled malice of the pathologically jealous, and see them for what they truly are: pitiful; otherwise resentment builds, and you shouldn’t allow insecure people to drop their emotional baggage onto you via insults because one day you might find yourself carrying that extra weight, which could lead to your lashing out and being the one demonised for being too reactive, albeit rightfully so. But that’s what happens when you find yourself in a toxic environment. Dissimulation can only get you so far.

How do you respond when you are deliberately provoked? What are your reactions and thought processes when faced with such situations? (so when someone triggers you on purpose & with ill intent, not accidentally). For example, do you experience an instinctive fight, flight, or freeze response, and are you able to transition into a more balanced state that helps you regain emotional control? How long do these feelings usually last? Do echoes of such experiences linger in your mind for a long time afterwards? Additionally, do you feel comfortable discussing your emotional triggers with trusted friends or partners, and does sharing this information help you manage your responses more effectively?