Fawning
Why the Need to Please Makes Us Lose Ourselves--and How to Find Our Way Back
-
- 12,99 €
Publisher Description
From a clinical psychologist and expert in complex trauma recovery comes a powerful guide introducing fawning, an often-overlooked piece of the fight-flight-freeze reaction to trauma—explaining what it is, why it happens, and how to help survivors regain their voice and sense of self.
Most of us are familiar with the three F's of trauma—fight, flight, or freeze. But psychologists have identified a fourth, extremely common (yet little-understood) response: fawning. Often conflated with “codependency” or “people-pleasing,” fawning occurs when we inexplicably draw closer to a person or relationship that causes pain, rather than pulling away.
Do you apologize to people who have hurt you?Ignore their bad behavior?Befriend your bullies?Obsess about saying the right thing?Make yourself into someone you’re not . . . while seeking approval that may never come?
You might be a fawner.
Fawning explains why we stay in bad jobs, fall into unhealthy partnerships, and tolerate dysfunctional environments, even when it seems so obvious to others that we should go. And though fawning serves a purpose—it’s an ingenious protective strategy in unsafe situations—it’s a problem if it becomes a repetitive, compulsory reaction in our daily lives.
But here’s the good news: we can break the pattern of chronic fawning, once we see it for the trauma response it is. Drawing on twenty years of clinical psychology work—as well as a lifetime of experience as a recovering fawner herself—Dr. Ingrid Clayton demonstrates WHY we fawn, HOW to recognize the signs of fawning (including taking blame, conflict avoidance, hypervigilance, and caretaking at the expense of ourselves), and WHAT we can do to successfully “unfawn” and finally be ourselves, in all our imperfect perfection.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Drawing from personal experience and seven case studies, psychologist Clayton (Believing Me) presents an empathetic primer on fawning as a survival response in an unsafe world. Unlike fight, flight, or freeze, fawning neither risks greater harm nor complete shutdown, making it a valuable tool for winning favor from the powerful in a patriarchal, neurotypical, and able-bodied society. But when fawning becomes habitual, it causes shame, depression, and anxiety, rendering efforts to "just get over it grow up already" futile, as it's not a choice or personality trait but a survival tactic. To change, readers should reconnect with their intuition and redirect the "sensitivity, empathy, patience, and all the goodwill and wisdom" they've devoted to others back to themselves; more concretely, they can take such steps as learning to feel healthy anger and setting clear boundaries with others. Clayton valuably illuminates the inner workings and invisible tolls of fawning as a response to trauma, and her unfailingly empathetic tone ensures readers won't feel judged. This edifies and reassures.