Why We Freeze During Confrontations

Zuri had met Andrew on a dating app. She had rushed home from work eager to get ready for their date at six o’clock. Rummaging through her closet, she tried on at least three different outfits, turning ‘round in the mirror to check every angle of her reflection. She settled on a pretty little blue dress that hugged her waist and accentuated her curves perfectly. She painstakingly applied her makeup, styled her hair, and then paced the floor, anxiously keeping an eye on her phone in case Andrew sent her a message.
 
Six o’clock came and went.
Then six fifteen.
Then six thirty.
 
She sat on the edge of her bed, a squeezing feeling in her chest. Had he stood her up?
 
Her phone lit up. “On my way!” read the cheerful message.
 
A sharp pang of irritation runs through her. She quickly dismisses it-she shouldn’t be angry with him; after all, he worked an important job as a lawyer at a law firm and had probably had a long day. Although she avoided admitting it to herself, she didn’t want to show Andrew she was hurt. She wanted him to think she was fun to be around, sexy, interesting, and laid back. If he didn’t, he might not want a second date with her. She jumped up and checked her reflection in the mirror one more time before sitting back down.
 
When Andrew pulled up front, he honked the horn to signify his arrival. Another pang of irritation ran through her as she picked up her purse and exited the house to climb into the car.
 
Andrew seemed to enjoy having an audience that listened to him. He kept up his chatter all the way to the restaurant, barely pausing even when they were seated at a nice table in the middle of the dining room. By the time she was given a menu, Andrew had filled her in on all the clients he had seen that day, stories of prestigious clients he had been hired by in the past, and his travels to Peru and Thailand.
 
When the waiter arrived to take their order, Zuri couldn’t help but feel relieved for a break in his monologue. “I’ll have the shrimp scampi with linguini, thank you” she smiled up at the waiter. The waiter began to jot down her order.
Andrew let out a surprised chuckle. “You don’t need that many calories, do you? Look at the number it says on the menu! It’s our first date, shouldn’t you have at least tried to order a salad or something?”
The heads of the other patrons dining nearby turned.
Zuri felt her cheeks redden. She suddenly felt her face and ears get very hot, and the sounds around her grew muffled. She felt her stomach flop.
 
The waiter gaped, then composed himself, taking Andrew’s order: New York strip steak, buttered garlic potatoes, and greens.
 
She sat in silence for the remainder of the date, smiling and nodding along in agreement with his stories and opinions. She felt nauseous and drained.
When they arrive back at her house, Andrew tries to invite himself inside. She mumbles an excuse about having work early in the morning. Andrew immediately looks irritated. Taken aback, she smiles at him sweetly, hoping to placate his anger.
 
He wordlessly takes off in his car. Alone behind her locked front door, Zuri soaks in the welcome silence of her dark home.
 
Why didn’t I just say something? Anything? She wonders as she slips into her pajamas. It left her feeling resentful and frustrated with herself. Feeling oddly exhausted and sapped of all her energy, Zuri collapses into bed, already dreading work with her demeaning boss tomorrow morning.
 
Zuri’s story mirrors the experiences that many codependents, “people-pleasers”, and survivors of narcissistic abuse share.
 
We are walking around feeling as if we are surrounded by authority figures that have the power to reject our entire being and confirm our fears-that we aren’t good enough, we are worthless, boring, stupid, ugly, irritating, unlikeable, and unlovable. We feel small, uncertain, helpless-childlike.
 
We might scrutinize our appearance and every hair that is out of place to avoid others’ criticism, we might avoid speaking our minds and sharing our opinions to avoid making others uncomfortable, we might shrink from attention in meetings or in conversations. We might agree when we actually disagree, mentally berating ourselves as we nod along with whatever opinion the other person is sharing.
 
Our inner critic believes that it is protecting us from others’ rejection, judgment, or criticism. We might buy into the lie that we need to criticize ourselves in order to be liked by others, to avoid our fears of abandonment, to be accepted. In the process we are rejecting, repressing, and abandoning ourselves. We forfeit agency over our own lives, feeling that we must acquiesce to others’ desires and expectations.
 
When a child is subjected to rejection, disapproval, abandonment, or abuse, their minds aren’t developed enough to understand that the way others treat them is not a reflection of their worth. Some of us were told as children that others’ words and actions were all our fault: “It’s your fault I hit you, you talked back”, “Look what you made me do”, “You must’ve done something to make her angry with you”, “I wouldn’t have touched you if you hadn’t been so provocative”.
 
Out of a need for survival, the child will attempt to gain approval to avoid being excluded from the tribe. This often involves a suppression or complete rejection of one’s true self. This includes our emotions, preferences, interests, beliefs, needs, and wants. We come to associate being our true selves with danger. If we dare to express ourselves, others might hurt us emotionally, physically, or sexually. They might stop loving, liking, or approving of us. They could decide to reject us.
 
Our intelligent brain wants to keep us alive, wants to make sure we still have the protection and belonging of a tribe, and wants to make sure we never experience the sting of rejection, abandonment, or hatred again. It wants to protect us from pain.
 
Our brain is too busy scouting our surroundings for signs of a threat; from the slightest shift of expression on our partner’s face to the possible underlying meaning of our friend’s comment. We can’t relax! It screams. We might be under attack and not know it! It can become difficult to enjoy social events or to engage in conversations. Our minds are too busy assessing everyone and everything around us. We can’t tune into relationships, we’re focused on survival. Some of us might confuse what we feel with reality.
 
We interpret others’ words, behavior, and actions to mean something personal about us. We are trapped at the greatest stage of emotional development we have achieved. Emotionally, many of us are children in adult bodies.
 
When no one takes the time to sit with a child and help them regulate their emotions, we cannot blame that child for growing up not knowing how to process or communicate them. Emotions can seem larger than life, intimidating, and overwhelming when we don’t know how to notice, experience, and process them. We may respond to the overwhelming “threat” of our emotions by detaching from them or by becoming swept up in them.
 
What we repress, shame, and ignore only grows. Our fear of feeling spurs us away from processing, teaching our brains that emotions are big and scary things that we can’t handle. In response, our fear grows.
 
It comes as no surprise then that when we experience a threat, a trigger, or stress in our everyday lives, our body becomes flooded with fear and stress hormones. 

Our being, even if it’s only on a visceral level, is aware that a boundary has been violated somewhere. 

We might not have the skills to tune into what we are feeling, to communicate our needs, or to assess the situation from an objective stance. We are in survival mode.
 
We become paralyzed, tongue-tied, unsure of what to say or do in response to the transgression (freeze). We might make up an excuse and leave, inwardly berating ourselves for acting so cowardly and failing to stand up for ourselves (flight). Some of us may experience intense anger and become so flustered that in the heat of our emotion, we lose the ability to effectively communicate and may in fact destroy our relationships with reactionary words and behaviors (fight). And finally, for the “people-pleasers” out there, some of us might put on a smile, nod our heads, or even laugh to disguise our discomfort (fawn). Our intentions are simple and innocent: we just don’t want to be hurt.

Our ability to effectively set boundaries with others hinges on our relationship with our emotional being. We can’t communicate or assess a situation effectively if we’re flooded and overwhelmed by our emotions.
 
We might feel tempted to hurry up and process our feelings to get through any discomfort or pain as fast as possible. Many of us want to know exactly how to “process” emotions. I would like to instead invite you to focus on receiving them. Emotions just “are”. Our bodies and souls create them. They are neither good or bad, wrong or right. They just exist. When we approach them with compassion rather than judgement, our state of anxiety and overwhelm calms, and our emotions are free to flow.

Processing Emotions When You Are Triggered

1. Notice the signs that your body is “triggered” or is entering an intense emotional reaction. Are your hands shaking? Does your stomach hurt? Are you feeling hot and sweaty? Is it difficult to hear, swallow, or breathe?
2. Allow yourself to observe the feeling with curiosity the way a scientist might-be impartial to judgment and assess the way the emotion feels in your body.
3. If possible, find some personal space to be with yourself to diffuse.
4. Wrap your arms around yourself in a hug. Caress the sides of your arms lightly to release oxytocin and comfort yourself.
5. Visualize a child in front of you. This could be yourself as a child, an imaginary child, or even your own child. Imagine they are telling you exactly what you are feeling right now. “My tummy hurts”, “My heart is pounding”, “I’m scared”. If you notice your mind making any judgments, gently shift your focus back to giving compassion to that child.
6. What would you say to that child? You can write out your response, say it out loud, or simply visualize it. It might be helpful to picture yourself as an adult comforting the little one that you once were.
7. Practice naming the emotion. It might help to look at a feelings wheel.
8. Remind yourself that you are an adult and are no longer trapped or helpless as you were as a child. You are free to protect yourself as you see fit. Practice phrases like “I’m not ready to have this conversation right now”, “That’s not okay with me”, or “No, and I mean it” until you feel comfortable using them.
9. It might help to use the framework: “I felt ___ when you ___. In the future, I’d like it if you ____”. Example: “I felt angry when you criticized my appearance. In the future, I’d like it if you refrained from making comments about my body”.
10. Remember that boundaries involve only YOU and what is within your control. Accept that others have the freedom to choose not to respect your boundaries. Create an action plan for what you will do if they do not respond in the ideal way you had hoped for. This could involve you leaving the conversation, ending the relationship, filing a complaint with HR, seeking a restraining order, or firmly reinforcing the boundary “No, I will not be loaning you money”.
11. Direct your thoughts towards compassion and remember to commend yourself. It isn’t easy to set boundaries when our mind believes another person’s approval of us is a matter of life and death. What you’re doing is the difficult work of reparenting yourself, and that is a huge display of strength.