Understanding the Four Fs: Fight, Flight, Freeze, and Fawn in Trauma Recovery.
Explore how trauma shapes our responses with Fight, Flight, Freeze, and Fawn and learn how awareness of these survival instincts can foster healing and growth.
The Four Fs—Fight, Flight, Freeze, and Fawn—are deeply ingrained survival responses that are especially relevant to those of us who have experienced trauma. These responses aren’t just abstract psychological terms; they’re patterns I see every day in myself and others, and they shape how we navigate the world. While they are primal, automatic reactions designed to keep us safe, they often become problematic when we carry them into adulthood, long after the immediate danger has passed.
The concept of the Four Fs is something I find particularly fascinating because it provides a framework for understanding human behaviour, especially in high-stress environments like hospitals. I’ve made it a habit to observe how people respond to stress, identifying their "F" responses as a way of better understanding them and, by extension, myself. These patterns aren’t just useful for observing others—they’re essential for personal reflection, especially when you’ve been through trauma.
For me, the freeze response has been the most dominant. This isn’t about being calm or collected during conflict; it’s about feeling stuck, paralysed by fear, unable to act or speak up. My experience with freeze is rooted in my childhood, living in constant fear of my father’s disapproval and relentless criticism. Even as an adult, I found myself paralysed by his gaze or his words. The physical violence had stopped, but the psychological grip remained. I would freeze, unable to defend myself, trapped in that familiar state of fear I had known all my life.
But freeze isn’t the only survival mechanism at play. The fight response, for example, often manifests as aggression or a need for control. People who default to fight are not necessarily violent, but they may come across as domineering or overly defensive. They’ve learned that maintaining control—over themselves, over others, over situations—is a way to avoid being hurt. For those with a trauma history, fight isn’t about wanting to lash out; it’s about protecting themselves from vulnerability. It’s their way of saying, "If I’m in control, nothing can hurt me." My father embodied this response. His need for control, his relentless criticism, and his narcissistic tendencies were his way of keeping the upper hand and shielding himself from his own unresolved issues.
The flight response, on the other hand, is all about escape. When things become overwhelming, flight types run—sometimes physically, but more often, emotionally. They distract themselves with work or other tasks to avoid confronting their feelings. In a hospital setting, you can spot flight types in the ones who are constantly busy, never stopping for a moment, because slowing down would mean facing the emotional weight they’re running from. It’s an exhausting way to live, and eventually, those feelings they’re trying to outrun catch up with them.
Fawn, the last of the Four Fs, is the response that’s all about people-pleasing. Fawn types have learned to diffuse conflict by making others happy, even at the expense of their own needs and boundaries. They try to keep the peace, believing that if everyone around them is content, they’ll be safe. But this response often leaves them drained and resentful because they never prioritise their own needs. For many, this behaviour started in childhood, where the only way to avoid conflict or abuse was to make their caregiver happy, even if it meant erasing their own desires and emotions.
In the hospital, where stress is a constant, I see colleagues falling into these patterns every day. Some fight—taking charge of situations and sometimes coming across as overbearing. Others fly—burying themselves in work to avoid confronting their personal struggles. Some freeze—becoming paralysed in high-pressure situations, unable to make decisions or take action. And others fawn—trying to please everyone, always saying yes, even when it’s at their own expense. Understanding these responses has become a useful tool in navigating these dynamics, but more importantly, it’s helped me recognise my own default patterns.
Recognising these responses in myself, particularly my freeze response, has been a crucial part of my recovery. I’ve come to realise that while these patterns were necessary for survival when I was younger, they no longer serve me in the same way. I’m not that terrified child anymore, but the fear still lingers. Therapy has helped me break free from the automatic freeze response, teaching me to pause, breathe, and remind myself that I’m safe now. It’s not an easy process, and the responses are deeply ingrained, but awareness is the first step toward change.
I’ve learned that while the Four Fs are natural, they can become harmful if we don’t learn to manage them. These responses helped us survive trauma, but they can limit us as adults if we let them run the show. The fight response might make us appear controlling, the flight response might lead to burnout, freeze can leave us paralysed, and fawn can result in us losing ourselves in the effort to please others.
What I’ve found, though, is that recognising these patterns is only the beginning. Managing them requires ongoing effort. Therapy has been a key part of this process for me, but it’s also about day-to-day awareness. I’ve had to learn to check in with myself, to ask what I’m really feeling when I sense the freeze response kicking in. Am I really in danger, or is this an old trigger rearing its head? Learning to challenge these automatic responses has been an important part of my growth.
There are moments when I still feel that familiar pull of fear—the urge to freeze up or fawn in the face of conflict or disapproval. But now, I recognise it for what it is: a conditioned response, not a reflection of the current reality. This awareness has allowed me to start living more freely, more intentionally.
If you’ve been through trauma, understanding the Four Fs can be a game-changer. These responses aren’t something to be ashamed of—they’re deeply human reactions to unnatural situations. They’ve kept you safe in the past, but they don’t have to control your future. With time, awareness, and the right support, it’s possible to rewire those responses, to step out of survival mode, and to live in a way that’s more aligned with who you truly are.
If you see yourself in one or more of these trauma responses, know that you’re not alone. These patterns are common, but they’re also manageable. It’s not about erasing them—it’s about understanding them and learning how to respond in ways that are healthier and more fulfilling. The journey isn’t easy, and it’s not quick, but it’s absolutely worth it.
For me, this process of recognising and working through my trauma responses has been transformative. It’s changed the way I relate to others, the way I handle stress, and most importantly, the way I see myself. I’m no longer the frightened child frozen in fear of my father. I’m an adult now, and I have the tools to take care of myself in ways I never could as a child. And that’s the real victory—learning that while these responses might be a part of my history, they don’t have to dictate my future.
If this resonates with you, I encourage you to take that first step—whether that’s seeking therapy, talking to a trusted friend, or simply becoming more aware of your own patterns. It’s not an easy road, but it’s the path toward healing and reclaiming your life from the grips of trauma.