Deep-dive #16: Please like me

We have all met people who seem endlessly accommodating. The ones who smooth over every awkward silence apologize for things they did not do or agree to favors they do not have neither time nor energy for. Sometimes, we might even be that person. We smile through gritted teeth while agreeing to something we really did not want to do. Or we said yes to helping a colleague on Friday night or laughed off a joke that hurt. We tell ourselves we are being nice, but deep down, we are exhausted.

While kindness is beautiful, compulsive people-pleasing is not about manners or empathy. It can be a deeply wired survival response. In trauma theory, this is known as the fawn response. It is the nervous system’s way of saying “If I keep everyone happy, I will be safe. If I can make them like me, I will not get hurt.”

The science of being liked

Our nervous system does not just react to wild animals or loud noises; it also reacts to social threats. Disapproval, rejection, or raised eyebrows can trigger the same stress hormones as physical danger. That is why conflict feels so unbearable for some of us: the body literally thinks survival is at stake. When a threat feels inescapable, especially in relationships we depend on, and regardless of whether the threat is real or perceived, our brain’s alarm system, the amygdala, fires up. It sends a signal that triggers the autonomic nervous system into survival mode. Most of us know what happens next (see deep-dive #5):

• Fight prepares us to confront the danger,

• Flight gets us ready to run,

• Freeze shuts us down to minimize potential harm.

Fawn is the fourth, quieter sibling to these three. It activates when none of the others feels possible or safe. Instead of attacking, running away, or freezing, the brain opts for social appeasement. And just as with the others, this response is not rooted in logic, but in the fascinating realm of neurology: the ventral vagal system, a part responsible for social engagement. When we fawn, this system tries to co-regulate by keeping the source of the threat calm. We instinctively manage the emotion of others to keep our own nervous system from spiraling. We smile, we nod, agree, apologize – anything to keep us from potential harm.

We might think that when we say “I’m fine” when we are absolutely not, we do it because we are weak. We don't. It is rather our body remembering how it once managed to survive a similar situation.

Fawning’s first playground

Fawning often originates from chronic emotional imbalance experienced during childhood, and most likely linked to trauma (see deep-dive #7). It tends to start in environments where love or approval was conditional, and where our safety depended on being “good.”

Imagine little you, trying to keep the peace at home. Maybe a parent was unpredictable, stressed, or emotionally unavailable. You learned that being helpful, quiet, or extra sweet kept the storm away. Maybe receiving love or attention depended on being compliant. Maybe your anger or disagreement led to withdrawal or punishment. During that experience, your nervous system learned that connection equals safety, safety equals compliance, and conflict or incompliance equals risk.

Fast forward to adulthood: the same strategy shows up at work, in friendships, in love. You say yes when you mean no, you anticipate other’s needs before your own, you apologize for having emotions or needs. You have become a master of reading the room (see deep-dive #14), but maybe not so good at reading yourself. The same creativity that once helped you survive now becomes just over-functioning. It has many different faces:

• You struggle to set boundaries or say no.

• You chronically apologize or over-explain.

• You feel anxious in situations of conflict or disapproval.

• You take responsibility for how others feel.

• You feel guilty for having your own needs.

It cannot be stressed enough that these behaviors are adaptive, not defective. There is nothing wrong with us, on the contrary. We are perfectly imperfect human beings. It is only when these patterns become automatic, and when “I will make sure everyone is OK” turns into “I no longer know what I need.” Fawning can look like empathy and still can come at the expense of authenticity. When we become experts at reading the room but are strangers to our own bodies, preferences, desires, or our internal discomfort, it is worth taking a closer look. Research shows that this type of self-silencing can elevate cortisol levels, contribute to burnout, anxiety, and even autoimmune responses. The body, after all, keeps score, as Bessel van der Kolk famously put it (see deep-dive #9).

A way out

There is hope, because luckily our brain loves being taught new tricks (see deep-dive #1). We are all capable of relearning safety. The path out of fawning is not about becoming less kind; it is about learning to include ourselves in our circle of care. It starts with curiosity, awareness, and tiny new experiments in self-trust. For example:

• Notice the pattern: start by observing when your nervous system pushes you towards appeasement (see deep-dive #2).

• Practice pausing: take a pause or a breath before saying “yes” to allow your prefrontal cortex to come back online, calming the amygdala’s alarm (see deep-dive #15).

• Anchor in the body: tight jaw, shallow breath, shoulders up? Classic fawn posture. Grounding techniques like breathwork or stretching tell the vagus nerve that you are safe now and that it is OK to relax (see deep-dive #4).

• Reconnect with your desires: reflect on what is important to you. Journaling can be a great tool for that (see deep-dive #3).

• Co-regulate with people you feel safe with: healing happens in trusting connection and in attuned relationships. Be around people who vibe with you and who you consider “save havens” (see deep-dive #13).

Fawning helped you survive a long time ago, and there is much to be grateful for. But today, and if you consciously choose to, you do not need to earn your safety through conditioned peacekeeping anymore. You are allowed to and capable of updating your “fawning software.”

In a seashell

Fawning keeps the peace externally and creates chaos internally. Over time, this pattern can lead to emotional exhaustion, anxiety, or a sense of emptiness and not belonging. Constantly morphing into what others need leaves no space for our own true self to breathe.

Understanding fawning changes the narrative from “Why can’t I just say no?” to “My body is doing what it was trained to do” (see deep-dive #6). Recovering from it is not about swinging to the other extreme, i.e., becoming confrontational or selfish. As with everything in life, it is about balance and moderation.

Genuine connections happen when both sides show up as themselves, not when one of the two disappears into the relationship or conditions their calm and safety on the other’s approval. If we want to be liked for who we really are it helps to bring up the courage to be real and give our truth a voice.

And with all that said, next time you find yourself saying “It is fine” when it is not: Congratulations! You are human, not broken. It means your body is brilliant at keeping you safe. It just forgot that the danger is gone and that you might be running an old, “useless” survival script.

How Coaching can help

In trauma-informed Coaching, you are offered a safe environment to exactly that and to explore your authenticity. A coach can help you

• Recognize your body’s early warning signals of fawning.

• Explore your values and boundaries.

• Shift from feelings of guilt to feelings of self-awareness.

• Discover how your boundaries, your safety, and your authenticity can co-exist.

Trauma-informed coaching is not therapy. It is a Coaching approach that understands how past experiences shape the way we think, feel, and respond in the present. It creates a safe environment in which the client can explore change at a pace their body and mind can handle.

Letting go of fawning is not about becoming tougher. It is about becoming truer and about learning that kindness is not a currency for safety, but an authentic expression of who we are.

My books of the month

Fawning (Dr. Ingrid Clayton, 2025)

Are you mad at me? How to stop focusing on what others think and start living for you (Meg Josephson, 2025)