For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a pattern with men—a pattern that has left me feeling exhausted, heartbroken, lonely, and so deeply misunderstood. I’ve carried a heavy weight of shame around it, believing that my constant need to please, prove, and mold myself to fit into their lives was some personal flaw or failure. It felt soul-crushing to wake up every morning feeling like the score was set back to zero, always needing to start from scratch, to prove myself worthy of their approval, love, and acceptance. It eroded my sense of self-worth over decades, leaving me feeling stuck, small, and insignificant.

It wasn’t until recently that I learned the term fawn response—and everything started to make sense.

The fawn response is a lesser-known survival mechanism, part of the fight, flight, freeze, or fawn responses we develop in response to trauma or perceived threats. While many people are familiar with fight or flight, fawn involves appeasing or pleasing others to avoid conflict, stay safe, and gain approval. This wasn’t something shameful or warped in me; it was a response ingrained from a very young age, something I’d used as a way of being for 48 years. My nervous system learned that by becoming what others wanted me to be—by pleasing, accommodating, and contorting myself—I could avoid danger, rejection, and disapproval.

I started to see how I had unconsciously created a dynamic where they—the men, the authority figures, the people I admired—had all the power, worth, and specialness. And I was small, insignificant, and desperately trying to prove I was worthy of a little bit of that “special” from them. It felt like I was always striving to earn a place in their world. But no matter how hard I tried, it never worked. Every day, I woke up with that same score: 0 for me, 100 for them. I had to start all over again, efforting, pleasing, proving, hoping this time it would be enough.

It was exhausting. It hollowed me out. And it left me feeling like I didn’t deserve better—that I was only worth what I could offer to others, never what I could claim for myself.

This pattern wasn’t just emotional—it had become physical, deeply embedded in my body and nervous system. My survival strategy was fawning, bending myself to fit into their lives, doing what they wanted, eating what they liked, liking what they liked. I’d contort myself into whatever shape I thought would keep me safe and loved, even though it meant losing myself in the process.

Now that I can finally name it—the fawn response—I feel hope. I’ve spent so much time, effort, and energy worrying, obsessing, calculating, and longing for their approval, never realizing that my worth didn’t come from them. It comes from within me.

Understanding the fawn response has created space between the stimulus and my automatic reaction. In that space, I’m discovering something I’ve never really had before: freedom.

In this widening gap, I’m beginning to ask new questions. What if I thought about myself first? What if I said “no” when something didn’t align with me? What if I was more interested in my needs than theirs? What if I valued myself as much as I’ve valued them and our relationships? What if I put all of this energy into me? Into relationships that are mutually fulfilling, where I don’t feel like I have to prove my worth?

Healing from the fawn response isn’t easy, but it’s possible. Here are some practices that are helping me reclaim my sense of self:

1. Creating Boundaries: Learning to say no without guilt is crucial. It’s about recognizing that my needs, feelings, and desires matter just as much as anyone else’s. Boundaries are not just about keeping others out; they’re about protecting my energy and honoring my own worth.

2. Mindfulness and Grounding: Practicing mindfulness helps me stay present and recognize when I’m slipping into that automatic fawn response. Grounding exercises, like deep breathing or feeling my feet on the floor, remind me that I am safe in my body, that I don’t need to earn my safety from others.

3. Inner Child Work: So much of my fawning response comes from that little girl inside me who felt she had to please to be loved. Connecting with her, nurturing her, and letting her know she’s safe and worthy without having to do anything has been transformational.

4. Therapy and Support: Working with a therapist who understands trauma and the fawn response has been essential. Therapy provides a safe space to unravel these deeply ingrained patterns, and to rebuild a sense of self-worth that isn’t contingent on others’ approval.

5. Affirmations of Worth: Reminding myself daily that I am enough, just as I am. I am worthy of love, respect, and kindness—not because of what I do for others, but simply because I exist.

6. Slowing Down: Slowing down my reactions allows me to create that space between stimulus and response. It’s in that space where I can pause, reflect, and choose a new way of being—one that prioritizes my needs, my worth, and my autonomy.

I’m still on this journey, but the weight of this fawn response is starting to lift. For the first time, I see a way forward that doesn’t involve me shrinking, contorting, or bending myself to fit into someone else’s world. I’m beginning to see that I don’t need to prove my worth to anyone. I’m already enough.

This journey is about reclaiming my power, my voice, and my sense of self. It’s about learning to stand in my own worth and letting go of the need to seek validation from others. It’s about becoming whole again.

If you’re on this journey too, know you’re not alone. There’s light at the end of the tunnel.