Do You Know The 4 Trauma Responses?
by Marissa Pomerance
When most of us hear the phrase, “fight or flight,” we think…held up at gun point. At war. Maybe even attacked by a wild animal. And then some sort of ancient, adaptive survival instinct kicks in, and we fight back or flee, right?
This is what we’ve been taught is a “trauma,” and fighting off a mugger or running away from a wild animal is what we’ve been taught is a “trauma response.”
What most of us don’t realize is there are more than 2 trauma responses—actually, there are 4.
They’re not only triggered by extreme physical danger, and they’re not just physical responses. They can be triggered by emotional trauma, and you could be experiencing any of them right now.
What exactly are trauma responses, and why do they happen?
Simply put, these are the physical, mental, emotional, and psychological reactions to a threat.
When we feel threatened—whether it’s hearing a sudden sound in the dark when we’re alone, or a coworker makes a cruel comment to us at work—our nervous system releases stress hormones like adrenaline and cortisol, which sets off an alarm throughout our bodies to induce one of these 4 trauma responses to deal with the threat. Our heart rate increases, our pupils dilate, our memory and digestion and immune system are all affected.
Whatever the threat is, it overwhelms our normal ability to cope, and our bodies do what they can to protect us.
These trauma responses are supposed to be temporary. The physical changes—the release of hormones, the hyperarousal—should subside once the threat has passed. But sometimes, we get stuck in these trauma responses; if the inciting event doesn’t go away (like, I don’t know, during a year-and-a-half long global pandemic), our bodies will feel constantly threatened, our brains stay in a hyper-aroused state, and the trauma response won’t turn off. Unsurprisingly, this long-term stress response can lead to depression, anxiety, weight gain, digestion issues, insomnia, and more.
Here’s what each one does:
1. Fight
This is the one we all know. When our bodies flood us with adrenaline to prepare us to stay, take action, and “fight.”
Like those stories we’ve heard about moms who lift cars off their children. Or if you see someone collapse on the street, and you spring into action by calling an ambulance and giving them CPR without waiting a beat.
“Fighting” might also mean standing up for ourselves, and setting a healthy boundary when confronted with a parent shouting at us in front of the rest of our family.
Sure, it all sounds so heroic. But people prone to the “fight response might also be prone to aggression, rage, and reactivity.
It can be an impulsive, instant response to a triggering event, one that might not serve us down the line, by escalating an already dangerous situation, or getting violent, or even posting aggressive responses on social media when we feel triggered.
And this response can come from chaotic, neglectful, or abusive childhoods. It can even “stem from the unconscious belief that maintaining power and control over others will lead to the acceptance, love, and safety you need but didn’t get in childhood,” and could be related to childhoods plagued by narcissistic rage, shame, and bullying.
Calming this fight response, whether in the moment or long-term, might mean engaging in deep breathing, relaxation techniques, mindfulness and meditation, getting more exercise to work through that adrenaline and cortisol, and seeking out healthy avenues for expressing pent-up emotions (like therapy).
2. Flight
The opposite of “fight,” “flight” refers to fleeing the danger and seeking safety.
Like fight, the flight response can be healthy, too. It can help us disengage from escalating situations, like simply changing the locks for a partner who’s become abusive or aggressive.
But when it’s unhealthy, it might mean we’re too conflict-avoidant. That we never stand up for ourselves or set boundaries. We might isolate ourselves when confronted with traumatic situations, like by locking ourselves up in our houses, not talking to anyone, and throwing ourselves into work and distractions.
Defaulting to a flight response may indicate our own inability to deal with pain and discomfort, and might stem from a childhood where escapism was necessary for survival.
Breaking free of this response might mean reconnecting with ourselves and our bodies—allowing ourselves to feel uncomfortable, and trying not to escape the feeling. Some experts recommend grounding techniques (like concentrating on touching an object, or focusing on the food we’re eating), and reaching out to loved ones to seek out more social support, instead of self-isolating.
3. Freeze
It’s happened to all of us. We’re terrified or upset, and we simply can’t move.
Maybe a man groped you when you were trapped next to him on an 8-hour flight, and instead of turning and smacking him, and then promptly calling the authorities, you froze. You felt the heat rise in your body, but you go numb, unable to say anything, unable to move.
“Freezing” is still a state of hypervigilance, but it’s a momentary pause that your body and brain take so it can determine the best path to safety (“Should we fight back? Should we flee?”). Often, it’s the first step before another trauma response kicks in.
When freezing is healthy, it might mean not engaging with someone who is clearly violent, who you might only aggravate more. It might help you take a beat, and form a plan for what to do next.
But in the long-term, a constant freeze response might look like “a mask you use to protect yourself when you can’t identify any means of fighting back or escaping.” It’s a means of detachment and checking out when you feel unsafe in reality, or when you’re too afraid to take any action, whether it’s fleeing or fighting.
Like the flight response, counteracting the tendency to freeze might also require engaging in grounding exercises whenever we feel ourselves starting to disassociate (like focusing on the physical sensations we can feel, smell, taste, or hear).
4. Fawn
The least-known trauma response, fawn is common to women, and it refers to our tendency to, in times of trauma, prioritize the needs of others to avoid conflict.
This trauma response is about placating others, and being liked to maintain a sense of safety. Sometimes, this means ingratiating ourselves with the people inflicting the most trauma on us, like a kid trying to befriend a bully on the playground, and cracking jokes to diffuse the tension, so they won’t be picked on.
While this can help avoid conflict and keep us safe, like all people-pleasing, it comes with some baggage. If we have a tendency to “fawn,” we might forgo our own needs for the needs of others, never set healthy boundaries, and put pressure on ourselves to be “perfect” in order to be liked (which makes us feel safe).
We might become caretakers to everyone in our lives, because that was the role we played in childhood—always being useful and helpful so we were praised and admired and not criticized or abused or neglected.
To unlearn this response, we have to disentangle ourselves from our people-pleasing behaviors (which means learning that we’re not responsible for “fixing” the needs or feelings of others), learn to state our needs, set boundaries, and become comfortable with leaning on others for help (instead of it always being the other way around).
Knowing your trauma response doesn’t have to be a life-sentence. It can be a superpower that brings you to a closer understanding of your childhood, your triggers, your coping mechanisms, and what you need to move past these survival mechanisms.