When we hear the words trauma response we think of the four F’s – fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. Each of these actions are adaptive, functional, and necessary in the short term enabling us to survive.
But what happens in the long term? When the impact from that trauma lasts.
To cope, we respond by adapting.
We develop behaviours that help us feel better or safer in a world that no longer feels predictable or kind. From the outside, these coping strategies might look “unhealthy” or even “bad.” But for us, they serve a purpose. The issue is that the line between a trauma response – a coping mechanism we’ve developed as a result of our trauma and the behaviours we might label as mental health symptoms begins to blur.
Reframing Symptoms as a Trauma Response
We’ve labelled many trauma responses as mental health symptoms, implying they are disorders instead of normal reactions to what someone has experienced.
- The individual who seeks control as a means of establishing safety in an unpredictable environment.
- The person who experiences episodes of anger as a defence mechanism to mask underlying distress.
- The person who disengages emotionally, not from apathy but as a protective response to pain.
- The individual who relies on substances to regulate overwhelming thoughts or emotional states.
- The person who frequently revisits past interactions or events in an attempt to achieve clarity or closure.
- The person who anticipates negative outcomes as a strategy to mitigate potential risk.
- The individual who sets unattainably high standards internalizes the belief that perfection is required for acceptance.
- The person who prioritizes the needs of others as a means of avoiding their own emotional discomfort.
- The person who withdraws from social interaction as a safeguard against potential emotional harm.
- The individual who uses food as a coping mechanism to regulate emotional experiences or, conversely, restricts intake to manage emotional overwhelm.
- The person who accumulates objects as a means of maintaining a perceived sense of security or connection.
- The individual who maintains an excessively busy schedule to avoid introspection or emotional distress.
- The person whose mind is in constant motion, driven by hyper-vigilance to prevent perceived threats.
- The individual who seeks close attachments to mitigate feelings of insecurity or isolation.
- The person who struggles with maintaining focus due to the overwhelming effects of stress.
- The person who is hyper-independent as a way to protect themselves from the pain of abandonment.
All of these coping mechanisms listed above mimic symptoms from different mental health diagnoses from the DSM. But no matter how these behaviours look from the outside as we can see, they serve a purpose. While these behaviours may often be misinterpreted as symptoms, understanding them as trauma responses opens the door to deeper insight. This shift allows us to ask the questions that truly matter and move beyond diagnoses.
The Missed Opportunity
By reducing complex human adaptations to symptoms, we miss the opportunity to ask the most important questions: What happened to you? What caused this response? What need was being met, or what threat was being avoided? Instead of solely diagnosing, we should be seeking to understand the circumstances that led to the development of these coping mechanisms. Doing so opens up possibilities for interventions that don’t just manage symptoms, but also provide meaningful support that targets the root of the behaviour.
Challenging the Narrative
If, instead of labelling these behaviours as symptoms, and instead we started asking questions, what might we uncover about ourselves and others? What if we decided to choose curiosity over judgment? What if we tried to understand the ‘why’ behind the ‘what’ of human behaviour? While these coping strategies are not always helpful in the long term, that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be understood. Understanding opens the door to better support, empathy, and compassion — it shifts the focus from treating potential misdiagnoses to creating space for the complexity of the human experience.