What trauma response shows up in your writing process?
fight, flight, freeze or fawn
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Last night, I had a conversation with my husband about fear. His response to fear has always been what we refer to in the trauma space as a flight response. He’s a runner. He doesn’t stick around to see what’s going to happen. He feels his spider senses awaken and bolts before any perceived thing can happen.
My fear response is what we refer to in the trauma space as a fawn response. For years, this was not part of the typical listing among the trauma responses (fight/ flight/ freeze), and while I identified with the freeze to some degree, I just didn’t see where I lived in those categories. That is, until the fawn response was added, which said this person appeases, acts pleasing, happy, anything really, in hopes of curbing the threat of danger.
It got me thinking about how we approach our creative work through the lens of our unique trauma response. (This is what my next book, Brave The Page, is about, by the way. Stay tuned! It will be released in 2025.) When you think about your trauma response—flight (avoidance), fight (body revolts due to stress), freeze (you feel stuck or blocked), or fawn (you appease others to avoid danger)—which one has shown up in your creative/ writing process?
Perhaps when the writing gets tough, it triggers a flight response, and you avoid the page, or you are creating something brave. Your body’s stress signals begin firing as a warning in a fight response, or you are going to begin writing that book you’ve been dreaming about, but fear sets in. You feel paralyzed in freeze response, unable to start, or lastly, you want to write that memoir but are afraid of retaliation from family or friends and write around the truth (fawning) to appease the fear response that’s arising.
Which response are you? Think about this, write on it, and become curious about how to care for your creative work in the same way you would a trauma response. Perhaps they are mirroring one another.
I recommend writing about this and exploring what this topic is awakening in you. Let me know what you think and how this resonates with you!
love, Megan
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Ohh Megan… this resonates so much. For the longest time, I identified mostly with freeze. My body would go still, my breath shallow, and I’d just… wait. As if I were hoping the moment would pass without me having to act or choose or risk.
But the part that always followed was a deep, almost unbearable frustration. Like my creative energy got trapped inside, and all it could do was thrash against the walls. It’s a strange mix of numbness and fury, honestly. Thank you for talking about this, it's so important!
I also had an “aha” moment when “fawn” was added to the list of trauma responses. (There are probably 8 or more nuanced, layered responses… maybe 100… maybe one for every trauma survivor on earth.)