An Exploration of Roots, Reactions, and Recovery
- Understanding Childhood Trauma
- What Are Trauma Responses
- Personal Experience: My Own Trauma Responses
- Why and How Trauma Responses Appear
- Healing and Moving Forward
In simplest terms, Childhood Trauma Responses are how the body and mind begin to react as a result of abuse and/or neglect. When exposed to dysfunction and harm, our body’s defense system steps in. It finds loopholes—ways around the discomfort—and develops new mechanisms to keep us safe. Those loopholes can later become trauma responses. For example:
Dissociating
The ability to detach from the present was helpful in highly dysfunctional homes where tensions remained high. Not so helpful as an overwhelmed adult in the workplace.
Isolating
Hiding in your room, under the bed, or escaping to the outdoors kept us safe from harm in childhood. But it’s not so useful when conflict arises in our adult relationships.
People-Pleasing
Putting the needs of others above your own was a way of keeping the peace in childhood. Now it’s burning you out as an adult.
It’s important to understand trauma responses because they’re more prevalent than most people realize. And much of it gets chalked up to personality traits.
She’s just shy. Is she? Or is she afraid to speak up because when she did so in the past, it resulted in punishment?
He’s an asshole. Is he? Or were his needs never met, and he still feels the sting of abandonment?
They’re so driven! Driven by what? Fear of failure? Fear of feeling?
Trauma responses are more than just fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. Sometimes it’s overworking, overeating, or overspending. Other times, it’s trauma dumping, over-explaining, and hypersexualization. There’s no limit to the ways our bodies and brains try to keep us safe or regain control.
Below, we’re going to explore the impact of trauma responses on health, society, and the individual, including my own experiences.
Understanding Childhood Trauma
Abuse, neglect, and witnessing violence are only a few examples of childhood trauma—and they can feel vague, especially for survivors who are unsure if they’ve experienced it. I didn’t consider trauma a part of my story until I was 28 years old.
Prior to that, I could tell you that my father was an addict and alcoholic and that physical altercations occurred when substances and tensions combined. My clothes smelled of mildew and cigarette smoke, and my backpack… sometimes of dog urine. There was the occasional hairbrush across the face, but that was just motherly frustration, and everyone experienced that, right?
It took about three therapists over the course of three years to finally convince me that some of that might have something to do with how I was feeling. They led me to support groups that further confirmed what I experienced wasn’t normal. Maybe it was affecting my current behaviors and attitudes. Maybe I wasn’t going to be depressed forever.
How Traumatic Experiences Shape The Developing Brain And Nervous System
Early trauma doesn’t just affect our emotions; it rewires the brain and nervous system [2]. When we experience chronic stress without protective relationships to co-regulate, our brain’s development and design are disrupted and altered [1]. This is especially true in regions tied to learning, memory, and emotional regulation.
Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs), such as growing up around addiction, physical abuse, or poverty, can alter how the brain processes threat, leading to heightened reactivity, difficulty concentrating, and long-term health risks [3]. The American Psychological Association adds that trauma-exposed children may live in a state of hypervigilance—where the nervous system remains stuck in survival mode, even in safe environments [4].
The key regions affected include:
- Amygdala: Heightened fear response
- Prefrontal Cortex: Impaired decision-making
- Hippocampus: Disrupted memory and learning
Fortunately, supportive relationships can buffer these effects, helping the brain rewire toward safety and resilience. Unfortunately, that can take time. It’s taken years if not decades for your brain and body to learn to perform, react, and behave the way it does. That can’t be undone overnight. However, understanding that you have a choice, and it can be done, can offer motivation.
The science can sound overwhelming, but for me, it was a breakthrough. It gave me a new way to understand myself. The depression I couldn’t shake wasn’t a flaw; it was a consequence of my brain trying to survive. The fragmented memories weren’t because I was “forgetful,” but because my hippocampus had been working overtime to protect me. I began to see that my struggles weren’t personal failings but physiological responses to experiences I didn’t have the tools to process.
This shift in my thinking was the first step toward healing. It allowed me to stop asking, “What’s wrong with me?” and start asking, “What happened to me?” and “How is my body still responding?” These responses are the complex, often misunderstood ways our bodies and minds try to keep us safe—and they’re what we’ll explore in detail next.
What Are Trauma Responses?
Trauma responses are the ways a person’s body and mind react to distressing or dangerous experiences. Sometimes they are subtle, internal reactions; other times, they are blatantly destructive. These reactions are rooted in natural survival mechanisms, commonly referred to as fight, flight, freeze, and fawn responses. They are protective patterns developed in response to past threats.
Trauma responses are not a representation of weakness, but adaptivity. They are evidence that we survived frightening and distressful situations. But fight, flight, freeze, and fawn are just terms—and people, myself included, are often underinformed as to how they present. Let’s look at the commonly accepted and lesser-known ways these responses show up—
Fight
What people think it means:
- Yelling, aggression, physical confrontation
- “Standing up for yourself” in a loud or forceful way
It also looks like:
- Overworking or overcontrolling to feel safe
- Hyper-criticism of self or others
- Emotional rigidity or refusal to compromise
- Defending boundaries with an intensity that feels disproportionate
Flight
What people think it means:
- Physically running away
- Avoiding conflict or leaving the room
It also looks like:
- Chronic busyness or perfectionism
- Escaping into work, hobbies, or planning
- Intellectualizing emotions to avoid feeling them
- Feeling trapped in “go mode” with no rest
Freeze
What people think it means:
- Shutting down or going silent
- Feeling stuck or paralyzed
It also looks like:
- Dissociation or zoning out during stress
- Feeling numb or disconnected from the body
- Difficulty making decisions—even small ones
- “Spacing out” in conversations or forgetting what was said
Fawn
What people think it means:
- People-pleasing
- Saying yes when you mean no
It also looks like:
- Mirroring others’ emotions to stay safe
- Over-apologizing or minimizing your own needs
- Avoiding conflict by becoming overly agreeable
- Feeling responsible for others’ comfort or reactions
These trauma responses aren’t just bad habits; they’re our body’s brilliant, if sometimes messy, way of staying safe.
The “Why” Behind the Responses
At its core, your nervous system is always asking, “Am I safe right now?” When a child grows up in an unpredictable environment, their nervous system learns to stay on high alert, even when the threat is gone. Think of it like a car, stuck, with the gas pedal floored and the brakes applied at the same time. This is why you might feel the need to always be busy (flight) or why you shut down completely when overwhelmed (freeze).
Our early relationships also teach us how to react to stress. When a child’s sense of safety is tied to pleasing an inconsistent or volatile parent, they learn to prioritize others’ needs over their own (fawn). These behaviors are deeply ingrained survival skills. They’re a map of what your nervous system learned to do to protect you. And while these rules are true for everyone, they show up in each of us in completely unique ways. In the next section, I’ll share how these responses have appeared in my own life.
Personal Experience: My Own Trauma Responses
My trauma responses are mostly rooted in childhood. I grew up around alcoholism, addiction, and mental illness, and was abused emotionally, physically, and sexually. I witnessed a lot of conflict that sometimes turned into domestic violence. Though there are large gaps in my memory, my body and nervous system still remember.
The reactions I typically exhibit can primarily be categorized into flight, freeze, or fawn responses. I don’t usually put up much of a fight. I spent much of my childhood and early adulthood bouncing between the remaining three, relying heavily on fawning. I masked to avoid abandonment, and I always tried to be “easy going”.
I prioritized the emotions and needs of others, and when I became overwhelmed by the busyness, I dissociated. I did this in different ways; sometimes it was as simple as spacing out, and other times it was drug or alcohol induced.
These responses show up in my life nearly every day. Something as simple as a hormonal shift can send my body on high alert, leading to increased anxiety, or leave me feeling numb and disconnected. I still struggle with conflict in relationships, often shutting down or finding ways to avoid.
When I’m in the firm grip of my survival responses, my entire self-opinion changes. The self-compassion and confidence I’ve gained suddenly disappear, and shame, blame, and hate take center stage.
Why and How Trauma Responses Appear
These responses aren’t character flaws; they’re a testament to how tough we are. From a biological standpoint, they’re the brain’s way of protecting us from danger. When you’re a kid and the world feels unsafe, your nervous system learns to stay on high alert. That survival mode becomes our default setting.
As Bessel van der Kolk, a leader in trauma research, explains, your brain actually rewires itself. Your amygdala (your brain’s alarm system) gets overly sensitive, so you react strongly to things that might not be a threat. The part of your brain that handles logic, the prefrontal cortex, struggles to keep up. And the hippocampus (your memory center) can shrink, which is why so many of us have foggy memories of our childhoods [2].
Living in this constant state of “on-guard” drains you. It can lead to anxiety, physical pain, and a whole host of other issues. As Dr. Gabor Maté puts it, “trauma is not what happens to you, but what happens inside you as a result of what happens to you” [5]. These responses are a direct reflection of that internal reality.
Healing and Moving Forward
The good news is, we’re not stuck. Our brain can heal. My own journey started by slowing down and paying attention to my thoughts. From there, I realized I couldn’t do it alone and committed to therapy.
Therapy has helped me challenge the negative thoughts that had been running my life. From there, I’ve been able to build internal safety, which has opened the door for processing past traumas. One of the most significant shifts for me was in somatic experiencing, which taught me how to reconnect with my body and release the trauma stored there.
Beyond therapy, simple practices have made a huge difference. Things like mindfulness, gentle movement like yoga, and just spending time in nature have helped calm my nervous system. I’m also learning to create a safe home and surround myself with people who are kind and supportive.
If any of this resonates with you, know that healing is possible. Here are a few places to start:
- SAMHSA National Helpline: A free, confidential resource for mental and/or substance use disorders. Call 1-800-662-HELP (4357).
- National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: A free and confidential service available 24/7. Call or text 988.
- The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk: The most famous book on trauma, a must-read.
- Psychology Today: Find a therapist fit for your needs.
Childhood trauma leaves a mark, but it doesn’t have to define you. The behaviors you once saw as flaws—the overworking, the people-pleasing, the emotional numbness—are simply the clever strategies your body and mind developed to keep you safe. They are proof that you are a survivor.
Healing isn’t about erasing the past. It’s about acknowledging what you’ve been through and learning to build a new, peaceful future. It’s about being kind to your younger self and giving your adult self the tools to finally move from just surviving to truly thriving. It’s a long journey, but it’s one that will lead you home to yourself.
Sources
1. The Center on the Developing Child at Harvard University. (2020). Toxic Stress Derails Healthy Development. Retrieved from https://developingchild.harvard.edu/resources/videos/toxic-stress-derails-healthy-development/
2. Van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.
3. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (2023). Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs). Retrieved from https://www.cdc.gov/violenceprevention/aces/index.html
4. American Psychological Association. (2018). Trauma. Retrieved from https://www.apa.org/topics/trauma/
5. Maté, G. (2022). The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness, and Healing in a Toxic Culture. Avery.
