‘Fight, Flight, Fawn’: How Growing Up with Domestic Violence Shaped My Responses as an Adult

By Sadie Baker

Domestic violence affects 1 in 4 women and 1 in 6 men in their lifetime: this is according to lwa.org.uk, an independent charitable organisation created to support those living with and survivors of domestic violence.

Many who share their accounts of domestic violence explain the systematic abuse – in its many forms – whilst they shared a household with their abuser; how they met, the lead up to the abuse, the escape and their road to freedom and recovery.

The abusers often go to jail and serve their time. However, what many do not understand is the perpetual suffering survivors of domestic violence can live with. Witnessing violence in the home as a teen has left me with many scars that I carry to this day.

My mother met Terry* when I was twelve, and they began dating when I was thirteen. Like many of her previous suitors, Terry tried to win me over with gifts and shopping trips, knowing that my mother wouldn’t date anyone who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, form a relationship with her only child.

Being twelve, I didn’t mince my words when I decided to tell her that I didn’t like him. As far as I was concerned, he was just some guy who was unemployed following a stint in prison (I found out many years later the charge was assault), he was not the kind of person I envisaged my mum settling down with. As far as Mum was concerned, I was being a snob, a brat and a typical adolescent.

As you can imagine, things took a wayward turn, and unfortunately their relationship evolved into a three year on-again/off-again debacle, smattered with violence, death threats and destruction of property, which culminated in one vicious attack that led to his imprisonment.

We moved away from our area, and one would think that our lives were back to ‘normal’ and on the up. It was only later in life that the cracks began to show in my psyche; I was prone to anxiety (both a low-level strum inside my chest and, rarely, full-blown panic attacks). Now in my late 30s, and after many therapy sessions, it is clear to me that there is still a residual effect from the events that I witnessed.

It has impacted my ability to form healthy relationships, as I always select partners who are either unable to commit (they want children; I do not) or opt to remain single as a form of self-protection. As I watched my friends settle down in stability and comfort, I wondered why it was that I refused to find a long-term partner.

My therapist informed me that the subconscious logic is that if they cannot commit – or if one refuses to – then I will never be in a situation where I will consider myself to be in any ‘real danger’. Therefore, I will never find myself in a situation where I am at risk of being presented with violence in the home.

With relationships, both romantic and platonic, I find myself falling into a fight/flight/fawn response at the first sight of trouble. This habit has also infected my day-to-day life. I don’t want to get a mortgage (a long-term commitment, leaving me unable to activate ‘flight’ mode), and when faced with an upset party I can often fall back into ‘fawn’ – leading me to accept maltreatment.

With people, there is a reliance I have on sensing their moods, which is a skill I developed growing up – an ability to sense when a night would end in violence. Now, if someone is remotely off or unhappy, it leads to a panicked attempt to soothe them or attend to their needs pre-emptively to keep them happy (and thus, my inner teen assumes, avoid any kick-off later in the day). Fear of someone being angry stops me from navigating simple adult tasks in life, from refusing a high-pressured sales pitch to feeling guilty when putting healthy boundaries in place.

Again, this is all due to the habits formed growing up – of having to balance a tightrope of keeping things harmonious so as not to provoke anyone. The constant feeling of walking on eggshells is, at best, exhausting, and at worst, anxiety-inducing. Hypervigilance means navigating day-to-day scenarios imaging the ‘worst case scenario’ to be prepared for any negativity.

Whilst this article may seem bleak and hopeless, there is a ray of light. By embracing emotions, understanding the why of how trauma informs one’s responses, and with the help of some excellent friends and therapy, I find myself able to navigate trauma reactions and balance reactions in a healthier way.

Whilst living and surviving in the world with these responses can be difficult, we can embrace and thank our anxieties for trying to keep us safe and then move on from where (and when) we once were. If anybody out there reading this as a survivor recognises these behaviours, please know that whilst they seem overwhelming, they can be managed and ultimately overcome.