When we think about trauma responses in our nervous system, we usually think about fight, flight, and freeze. These are our bodies innate ways of protecting ourselves in situations that our autonomic nervous system perceives as dangerous or threatening. Sometimes these situations are happening in the moment and we need to protect ourselves, and sometimes we are responding to triggers that remind us of situations that have happened in our past.
In fight or flight, our sympathetic nervous system takes over and releases adrenaline and cortisol, prompting our body into action. Depending on the situation, that action looks like fighting back or running away. When our body determines that fighting or fleeing is not possible, we shift into freeze and the parasympathetic nervous system, more specifically, the dorsal vagal nerve is activated. This acts as a brake to our sympathetic nervous system and we shut down – often experiencing immobilization or dissociation.
Sometimes, however, we find ourselves in situations with other people where we can’t fight back or run away for one reason or another, but also shutting down won’t keep us safe either. What does our body do in these situations? Enter fawn – a lesser-known nervous system strategy where we shift into appeasement and submission in order to survive. In fawn, we are experiencing both the mobilization of the sympathetic nervous system and the shut down of the parasympathetic nervous system. We automatically assess what is needed to de-escalate the other person to keep us safe. This sometimes looks like people-pleasing, caretaking, or extreme agreeableness. Oftentimes, this happens in situations
such as child abuse or domestic violence, but it can happen anytime we’re in an interpersonal situation where we feel deeply unsafe.
When we have experienced complex or relational trauma, our nervous system is trained to constantly be assessing for threat in order to keep ourselves safe. We are hypervigilant when it comes to assessing people’s moods, noticing subtle cues and facial expressions. We walk on eggshells, always preparing for worst-case scenarios. Our bodies respond by having trouble sleeping, having a heightened startle response, and generally having a feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. This response is normal – it is how our bodies seek power in situations where we are otherwise powerless. We begin to internalize
the message “if I broke it, I can fix it.” Our bodies learn that safety and connection only happen when we prioritize someone else’s needs.
If our nervous systems were focused on keeping ourselves safe in dangerous interpersonal situations, it becomes second nature to devote all our emotional resources to minimizing conflict and appeasing the person with whom the danger is occurring. In the short term, fawning can be life saving. However, when we become stuck in a chronic fawn response, we get stuck in survival mode long after the initial threat has passed. Remaining in survival mode long term has serious long term physical and relational consequences. As author of the book Fawning, Dr Ingrid Clayton says, “Like a fish who can’t conceive of life outside its bowl, fawning becomes a condition of living in a toxic system.”
When we grow up and become adults who have been stuck in a pattern of chronic fawning, we often get stuck in patterns of over-functioning and overcommitting. We go out of our way to make things easier for other people – volunteering to do things that no one else wants to do, working overtime to ease the burdens on others – constantly neglecting our own needs so that other people are satisfied. We can’t tolerate the anxiety that arises when a need is not being met, and that fear drives us to work ourselves into the ground. While being of service and caring for others is an admirable trait, fawners take that to the extreme – caring so intensely for others that we abandon ourselves in the process.
If you see yourself in the description above, you may find yourself asking…”so what do I do about it?” The process of “unfawning”, coming home to yourself, and practicing body residency is a long one. There are many skills and tools that can be used along the way, but in the beginning, it often looks like establishing enough internal and external safety so that we can speak into the world a radical truth that we thought we could never tell or taking a risk that feels bigger than we might be able to survive. Radical truth telling is terrifying and it doesn’t have to be huge. Our truth may be saying no to something we don’t want to do for the first time, or giving ourselves permission to name a need we have and ask
for it to be met by someone who loves us. It is making an active choice to step back into ourselves and do the opposite of what we have done our whole lives.
This is a process that involves building self awareness, setting healthy, safe, and appropriate boundaries, recognizing our triggers that lead us back into people-pleasing mode, and practicing grounding techniques that connect us to our bodies and this earth. This can be as simple as when we notice the urge to say yes to something that we want to say no to, we pause, place our hand on our chest and notice our feet on the floor and ground into the truth that we are allowed to take up space and meet our own needs. In that moment, as we experience connection to ourselves and the world around us, we
can choose our truth and say no, even if our voice shakes.
This process is about creating choice, safety, and connection – both to ourselves and to the important people with whom we are in safe enough relationships. Unfawning is a practice that requires intention and commitment to doing the harder thing, to having the hard conversations, to choose ourselves over and over and over again. So, I will leave you with this question: What would be different if you gave yourself unconditional permission to choose yourself first?
If you resonate with this, our team here at The Cove can support you as you navigate the process of identifying your trauma responses and stepping back into your own power and agency. You deserve to receive support as you learn to take up space again.
Alexis Burger-Heist is a Registered Social Worker and psychotherapist in Hamilton, Ontario. She works with experiences of disordered eating, trauma, anxiety and depression from an Internal Family Systems approach. She’s probably drinking an iced coffee, right now. More questions? Reach out here.