When You're Loved Without Earning It: A Different Take on Glimmers
Photo Description: Blog header graphic reading "When You're Loved Without Earning It" with the subtitle "A Different Take on Glimmers" and author credit "By Kandace Ledergerber, LPC/LMHC, Certified EMDR Therapist." A semi-transparent blush overlay panel sits over a bright beach scene with turquoise water and white sea foam, with a small coral dividing line beneath the subtitle.
Photo by Christoffer Engström on Unsplash
Photo Description: Quote graphic reading "The quiet, disorienting evidence that you might be lovable even when you are not useful." Attributed to Kandace Ledergerber, LPC/LMHC, EMDR Therapy Phoenix. White text over a close-up ocean wave background with sea foam in deep blue and teal tones. The words quiet, lovable, and useful appear in cursive script for emphasis.
You’re going along your typical day and someone in your life does something kind. Maybe your partner brings you coffee without being asked, or a friend texts just to say they were thinking about you, or someone tells you they love you in an ordinary moment when you haven't done a single thing to earn it. And instead of soaking it up as a positive, you feel something else. Maybe it looks like a flicker of suspicion or the urge to immediately do something back to even the playing field. It might even look like a quiet little voice asking, okay, what do they want?
If any of that feels familiar, this one is for you.
There's a term that gets thrown around a lot in nervous system circles right now, which is glimmers. And like most things that catch on, the popular version has gotten a little flattened. So I want to talk about what glimmers actually are, why the standard advice about them tends to fall flat for trauma survivors, and the kind of glimmer I’ve seen actually help changes things.
Key Takeaways
Glimmers are small cues of safety, the quiet opposite of triggers. But the ones that matter most are the moments that contradict a story you learned about yourself.
"Just notice them" fails the same way "just calm down" does. You can't force a glimmer to land in a body that doesn't trust it yet.
For a lot of trauma survivors, a good moment can feel suspicious, which makes complete sense.
A glimmer you can actually stay with becomes a resource, evidence stacking up against the old belief.
What a Glimmer Actually Is (and the Version You've Probably Seen Online)
If you've read anything about glimmers, you've probably gotten this definition: a glimmer is the opposite of a trigger. Where a trigger is a cue that tells your body you're in danger, a glimmer is a cue that tells your body you're safe. Common examples are the warmth of the sun, the smell of your coffee brewing, or your dog happily flopping over for a belly rub. These are wonderful moments that can bring a sense of calm and joy into the air around you. The advice usually wraps up with something like just notice them, keep a list, or share them with a friend.
And none of that is wrong, per se. Those small moments are real, and noticing them can help us find a sense of joy in a normal moment.
But for people who've been through hard things, that version is incomplete. Because the sunlight glimmer isn't the one doing the heavy lifting in re-patterning the brain from a lifetime of trauma. The glimmers I care most about in session are the ones that disprove a rule you learned a long time ago about who you are and what you have to do to be okay.
These glimmers are the living proof that disproves the negative beliefs that circle your mind at 2 AM or after a “confrontation” with a friend. And how they show up in your life and how they feel in your body helps to slowly re-pattern the negative, and bonus can be expanded upon in therapy.
The Glimmers That Actually Move the Needle
Here's what I mean.
A lot of the people I work with are carrying a belief about themselves or about the world around them that runs underneath everything. In EMDR we call this a negative cognition, and it tends to sound like I'm not enough, or I'm not lovable, or I have to earn my place. It's rarely something they'd say out loud. It's more like the operating system running in the background, the thing that has them overperforming, people pleasing, and bending over backwards to be worth keeping around.
So the glimmer that matters for that person isn't a pretty sunset. It's a moment that directly contradicts the rule.
Photo by Silas Baisch on Unsplash
Photo Description: Quote graphic reading "A nervous system that learned 'I have to earn my place' isn't exactly scanning for proof that it doesn't. It's busy looking for the next thing to earn." Attributed to Kandace Ledergerber, LPC/LMHC, EMDR Therapy Phoenix. Dark teal text over a soft ocean wave and cloudy sky background in pale blue and white tones. The words learned, proof, and earn appear in cursive script for emphasis.
This can look like a lot of things, but often in the work I do with type-a perfectionists, it often surfaces as “I have to do ______, to be worthy of love.”
Maybe you've had a week where you were not at your best. You canceled the plans, you were short with the people you love, you let the texts pile up, and somewhere in the back of your mind you were already bracing for someone to finally have had enough of you. And then they didn't. Someone stayed, brought you the proverbial cup of tea, and didn't hand you a bill for it afterward. If you've ever had a moment like that, where you were cared for on a day you felt you had nothing to offer, and it landed as confusing rather than comforting, that is exactly the kind of glimmer I'm talking about. Not the tea. The quiet, disorienting evidence that you might be lovable even when you are not useful.
Or maybe it shows up the first time you really use your voice. You've been the easygoing one, the person who never makes waves, because at some point in your life making waves came with a real cost. And then one day you push back anyway. You disagree out loud, you say the thing, you hold your ground in a conversation that would normally have you folding, and then you brace for the floor to drop out from under you. And it doesn't. The conversation just keeps going. The friendship survives. The job is still there. If you've had that experience, the one where you advocated for yourself and the world stayed stubbornly intact, that is a glimmer too, and a big one. It's proof, in real time, that your voice does not have to cost you everything.
What these moments have in common is that they all land somewhere the standard glimmer advice never reaches. They are not just pleasant, they are evidence, the kind that quietly argues with the belief you have been carrying for years. And that is exactly why they are easy to miss, because a nervous system that learned I have to earn my place is not exactly scanning for proof that it doesn't. It's busy looking for the next thing to earn. So part of the work, and part of why I bring this up so often in session, is learning to catch these moments when they happen and let them count, because every single one is a small crack in a story that told you love and safety had to be worked for, and ultimately helps you to re-pattern your brain.
Why "Just Notice Them" Misses the Point
Here's the problem with the standard advice surrounding glimmers, in my book.
"Just notice your glimmers" runs into the same wall as "just calm down." (If you've ever been on the receiving end of that one, I wrote a whole post on why your nervous system can't just calm downthat gets into why it backfires.) You can't will a glimmer into landing any more than you can will yourself to feel relaxed. Noticing it in your head is not the same as letting your body feel it.
And for a lot of trauma survivors, there's an extra layer. The good moment doesn't just fail to land. It feels suspicious.
If you grew up somewhere unpredictable, good moments often came right before the bad ones. So your nervous system learned to treat calm and kindness as the setup, not the payoff. Which means when something genuinely good shows up now, your body braces for impact. You wait for the other shoe. You deflect the compliment, or you scramble to earn the thing that was already freely given, or you find the catch before anyone can spring it on you.
That isn't you being difficult or incapable of receiving love. It's your nervous system doing exactly what it learned to do to keep you safe. It makes sense, and I’ll say it loud enough for the people in the back - nothing is wrong with you for it.
A Glimmer You Can Stay With Becomes a Resource
So if "just notice it" isn't enough, what actually helps?
It comes down to the difference between clocking something in your head and letting your body register it. Insight lives in the thinking brain. The felt sense of I am safe, I am loved, I am enough has to be built somewhere older and slower than that. (This is the same reason your body can hold onto old fear long after your mind has moved on, which I get into in why your body remembers what your mind tries to forget.) That work is bottom-up, as it starts in the body, not the analysis your brain makes.
So when a glimmer shows up, the move isn't to log it and move on. It's to pause and actually stay with it for a few seconds. Notice it in your body. Where do you feel the they stayed or the I spoke up and nothing broke? What happens in your chest, your shoulders, your breath when you let it be true for a moment instead of explaining it away?
Staying with it for even a few seconds is doing something. You're giving your nervous system a rep, just like in exercise. And there's a real difference between a coping skill you use and forget about and a resource that's actually wired in. A coping skill is something you do. A resource is something you have, something accumulating in your body as proof. Every glimmer you let land is one more piece of evidence stacked against the old belief. That's not just positive thinking; that's re-patterning.
Where EMDR Therapy Phoenix Comes In
Photo by Silas Baisch on Unsplash
Photo Description: Quote graphic reading "Every glimmer you let land is one more piece of evidence stacked against the old belief. That's not just positive thinking, that's re-patterning." Attributed to Kandace Ledergerber, LPC/LMHC, EMDR Therapy Phoenix. Dark teal text over a calm ocean at sunset with a soft peach and pink sky reflecting on the water. The words glimmer, evidence, and re-patterning appear in cursive script for emphasis.
This is a big part of why I love this work.
EMDR doesn't just talk about the old belief. It works with it directly, at the level where it actually lives. The resourcing phase is where we build the felt sense of safety first, on purpose, before we go anywhere near the hard stuff. And as we reprocess, those contradictory-evidence moments (the I was loved without earning it, the I used my voice and survived) become part of how the old story gets updated. The negative cognition softens, and something truer gets to take its place.
For people who've spent years collecting insight without much relief, that shift can feel like a different kind of work entirely.
If you're in Phoenix and you've been waiting for the catch every time something good happens, this is the kind of work I do. You can learn more about EMDR therapy in Phoenix and what the process looks like, or read the complete guide to EMDR therapy if you want to go deeper before reaching out.
Ready to Let It Land?
If the good moments in your life keep bouncing off, I’m willing to guess that you're not bad at gratitude and you're not broken. You're running up against a nervous system that learned, for good reason, not to trust them yet. That can change.
If that sounds like what you've been looking for, I'd love to talk. Reach out to schedule a free consultation, where we can talk about where you are and whether the kind of work I do might help.
TL;DR
Glimmers are cues of safety, the opposite of triggers. The popular advice ("notice them, journal them") isn't wrong, but it's thin for trauma survivors.
The glimmers that actually matter are the moments that contradict an old belief about yourself: being loved without earning it, using your voice and having the world stay intact.
"Just notice them" fails the same way "just calm down" does, and for some people a good moment can feel suspicious rather than safe. That makes sense.
Staying with a glimmer in your body (not just your head) turns it into a resource, evidence accumulating against the old story.
EMDR works with that old belief directly, starting with safety and building from there.