We had a baby hawk in our yard this week, and it was a powerful reminder of something I talk about with clients every day.
With chickens in the yard, we're usually on high alert when hawks are around. But this time was different. I let my bullmastiff puppy out, and that's when I spotted a baby hawk in the yard. Before I could stop him, he ran straight over to it, tail wagging, ready to play.
The hawk was terrified. It didn't fly away. It didn't fight back. It completely froze.
I got our puppy inside and checked on the hawk a few times. Each time, it was still frozen in the same spot. My husband was worried it was hurt- maybe it had injured a wing scrambling away from our rambunctious pup. I recognized something else. I was watching a nervous system in freeze.
Fight, flight, freeze, or fawn: your body's built-in protection
When your nervous system senses danger, it doesn't wait for you to think it through. It acts first, automatically, to keep you alive.
Fight prepares you to push back. Your heart races, your muscles tense, and you may feel irritable or angry.
Flight prepares you to escape. You feel restless, anxious, and desperate to get away or keep moving.
Freeze happens when fighting or fleeing doesn't feel possible. Your body shuts down to protect you. You go still, numb, or blank.
Fawn seeks safety by keeping others happy. You people-please, over-apologize, and put everyone else's needs ahead of your own to avoid conflict.
None of these are choices. They aren't weakness or failure. They're survival responses we're all wired with. Fawn is the most uniquely human of the four, often learned in relationships where keeping the peace felt like the safest option.
The hawk wasn't broken. Its body was doing exactly what it was designed to do. It was protecting itself until it felt safe again. If you’ve found yourself in the freeze response, the same is true for you.
What freeze looks like in us
You're probably familiar with fight or flight, but freeze may be less familiar. Yet it's often the response I see most in the moms I work with. It rarely looks like standing still in the yard unable to move. It's quieter than that.
Freeze can look like:
Staring at the laundry pile, unable to start
Going blank when the kids need you
Sitting in the car in the driveway, unable to go inside
Feeling numb or "checked out"
Shutting down mid-argument, unable to find your words
For mothers, the triggers are everywhere: sleep deprivation, a baby who won't stop crying, the mental load of running a household, a birth that didn't go as planned. When the demands feel bigger than our resources, our bodies may hit pause.
Freeze often travels with fawn, the response we talk about least. Many moms I work with move between shutting down and over-giving: saying yes when they mean no, managing everyone's feelings, and losing track of their own needs along the way. Fawn can be harder to spot because it looks like being kind, helpful, and "easy." But underneath, it's the same nervous system searching for safety.
If you recognize yourself here, please hear this: nothing is wrong with you. You aren't lazy or unmotivated. Your nervous system is protecting you.
It takes a village: we aren't meant to unfreeze alone
We called a friend who has worked with wildlife, and he came over immediately. He knew exactly what to do. He gently brought the hawk home to rest and recover. Shortly after, he texted us: the hawk had flown off.
The hawk didn't get there alone. It needed a calm, safe, knowledgeable presence to help it feel secure enough to move again.
We're no different. Our nervous systems are wired to settle in the presence of other safe, steady people. This is called co-regulation. It's how babies learn to calm down in our arms, and it's something we never outgrow. A calm voice, a steady presence, someone who isn't panicking- these signal to our bodies that we're safe.
This is why "it takes a village" is more than a saying. It's biology. And yet so many moms try to carry everything alone, believing they should be able to hold it all together.
Take a moment and ask yourself, who's your village?
The friend who shows up without being asked
The partner who notices when you're not okay
The therapist who knows what freeze looks like and how to gently help you through it
And get yourself a friend like ours, one who drops everything when you call. If you don't have that person yet, that's okay. A village can be built, one relationship at a time.
Gentle ways to come out of freeze
You can't force your way out of freeze. Pushing harder usually tells your body the danger is still there. Instead, the goal is to send small signals of safety. Try one of these the next time you notice yourself shutting down:
Name it. Simply saying "I think I'm in freeze right now" brings your thinking brain back online and softens the shame.
Orient to your space. Slowly look around the room and name five things you see. This tells your body where you are and that you're safe here.
Move a little. Wiggle your fingers and toes, roll your shoulders, or press your feet into the floor. Small movement gently thaws the stillness.
Lengthen your exhale. Breathe in for a count of four and out for a count of six. A longer exhale helps calm your nervous system.
Check in with the Triangle of Awareness. Notice your breath and heart, then your body, then your thoughts and emotions. Then ask yourself: what do I need, and what is my next tangible step? If you're new to this practice, a guided meditation is a gentle place to start.
Reach for your village. Text a friend, call someone safe, or sit near someone you love. Connection is one of the most powerful ways out of freeze.
Ready to SOAR again
That baby hawk flew off because it was given time, safety, and the right support. You deserve the same.
If you’re a mama who feels stuck, numb, or shut down, I created Regulated Mama for you. It’s a 27-day program starting Monday, January 4, 2027 to help you understand your nervous system and gently come back to feeling safe in your body. Each week you’ll get short daily rituals (5 minutes or less), journaling prompts, guided meditation, and live yoga, plus a private community of moms walking alongside you.
I give you the tools- you create the ritual that fits your life, so the shift lasts long after the 27 days.
Regulated Mama is $27, and space is limited.
Looking for more individualized support? Schedule a free 15-minute consultation to see if therapy with me is a good fit.
