Acclimating. Adapting. We are constantly shifting to respond to our environment. Our brains are wired to get to the most efficient outcome possible, so we naturally build habits around what we do most persistently.
In small, everyday ways, this works beautifully. We adapt to a new traffic pattern after construction changes our route. We learn which grocery store checkout line moves fastest. But when trauma or stress is present, adaptation can become more complicated. In those moments, our bodies often default to the built-in survival system that has been with us for thousands of years: fight or flight.
When the threat passes, we can begin to adapt to the “after.” These responses are essentially our factory settings—like the default settings on our smartphones that determine how things run unless we actively change them.
When the Stressor Never Ends
Our natural adaptation process works best when there’s a clear “before” and “after” to the danger. But what happens when the stressor doesn’t stop? When the environment itself is unsafe?
This is the case in situations like chronic abuse, emotionally damaging relationships, or workplace bullying—where the threat isn’t just a moment in time, but an ongoing reality. This is often called relational trauma. And because relational trauma is about human connection (or the painful distortion of it), our brains and bodies adapt differently than they do to physical threats.
Beyond Fight or Flight: The Fawn Response
Most people are familiar with the trauma responses of fight, flight, and freeze. But there’s a fourth—less talked about—response: fawn. Fawning is the act of becoming agreeable, accommodating, or overly helpful to prevent confrontation, de-escalate someone else’s behavior, or reduce the risk of harm.
Like fight or flight, fawning is not a conscious decision—it’s an adaptation. It’s our nervous system trying to keep us safe in the only way it perceives is possible in that moment.
Incident-Based Trauma vs. Relational Trauma
It can help to distinguish between incident-based trauma and relational trauma when talking about these responses.
- Incident-based trauma involves a sudden, direct threat to physical safety—like a car accident, natural disaster, or armed robbery.
- Relational trauma is emotional and psychological harm that happens over time within the context of a relationship—with a parent, partner, boss, co-worker, family member, or friend.
How Our Bodies Defend Us Automatically
When someone experiences incident-based trauma, like being robbed at gunpoint, they might instantly throw a punch, toss their wallet and run, or freeze in place. These aren’t calculated moves—they’re reflexes, like breathing or blinking.
Over a century ago, Harvard physiologist Walter Bradford Cannon observed these “fight or flight” responses in animals, noting the physiological changes: increased heart rate, adrenaline release, heightened senses—all designed to help the organism survive.
The Complexity of Relational Threats
Relational trauma complicates this picture. Imagine a boss publicly humiliating you in a meeting. Fighting back might lead to more humiliation—or even the loss of your job. Running away isn’t an option without sacrificing your income. What’s left? Freezing? Fawning? Trying to blend in until the danger passes?
Clinical psychologist Jim Hopper notes that fawning often starts as a learned habit. For example, if a child grows up in a chaotic household where fighting back isn’t possible and escape isn’t available, they may learn to appease the adult to avoid further harm. Social norms can reinforce this too—many girls and women are conditioned to “be nice” at all costs, while boys and men may be discouraged from showing vulnerability.
Why We Keep Fawning
In some situations, fawning works. It prevents escalation. If leaving isn’t possible—due to a job, a marriage, or childhood dependence—people often find other ways to “leave” in their minds: through hobbies, relationships, work, or, in some cases, harmful escapes like substance use.
After nearly two decades of working with survivors of all types of trauma, I’ve seen that trauma responses are as unique as fingerprints. They’re shaped by upbringing, stress tolerance, protective factors (like a supportive adult or meaningful activity), and the intensity and duration of the environment.
The Cost of Living in Survival Mode
Repeated fawning—or any prolonged trauma response—can be exhausting. Holding back anger, hiding sadness, and suppressing needs to keep the peace takes an enormous toll.
Clinical psychologist Dolores Mosquera offers a six-part self-care model for those recovering from trauma:
- Protecting your time and setting boundaries
- Caring for your physical health
- Maintaining a realistic and compassionate view of yourself
- Treating yourself with kindness
- Balancing needs and responsibilities
- Asking for and accepting help
Self-care in this context isn’t indulgent—it’s a way to rebuild your nervous system and reclaim your sense of self.
From Autopilot to Conscious Choice
Our brains gravitate toward what’s familiar, not necessarily what’s healthy. This is why someone might return to an unhealthy relationship—it’s predictable, even if it’s painful.
Shifting out of autopilot requires awareness. The first step in changing a survival habit like fawning is to ask: Am I still in danger? If the answer is yes, safety remains the priority. Even so, noticing the pattern is powerful—it allows us to experiment with new ways of responding when it’s safe to do so.
Questions for Reflection
If you’re considering updating your “factory settings,” you might ask yourself:
- What do I do so automatically that I barely notice it?
- How has fawning (or another habit) helped me survive?
- How do I feel about that habit now?
- Is it something I want to change?
- What could happen if I do?
- How can I treat myself with compassion while I try?
- What would my life look like without this reflex, and how can I support that version of me?
Evolving Beyond Fawning
Fawning isn’t inherently good or bad—it’s one part of a deeply intelligent survival system. But sometimes, it stops serving us, and we’re ready for a new way of relating to the world.
Change takes time, intention, and a lot of compassion. Tend to every part of yourself—the wounded, the healing, the conflicted, the growing. You are more than your reflexes. You are the whole system.
If you’d like to explore your own patterns and begin to shift them in a safe, intimate group, our Healing from Relational Trauma Thrive Circle is starting soon. We hope you’ll join us.
