Fawning

What Is Fawning?

Fawning is a trauma response where someone says “yes” when they mean “no.”

It’s one of the four trauma responses:

Fight — aggression, pushing back
Flight — leaving, avoiding
Freeze — going still, shutting down
Fawn — people-pleasing, agreeing to avoid conflict

This chapter is going to talk about the hazards of fawning — what can go wrong, who gets hurt, and why responsibility matters. Before we get into that: having a fawning pattern is human, and playing is how you heal from it. Not playing and then healing separately. Playing IS healing. Fawning, realizing what happened, owning it, trying again, fawning again, owning it faster, trying again — and the third time, catching it before it fires and doing the thing you couldn’t do before. That’s the whole process. You can’t heal outside of live interaction. The task is the lesson.

Playing with someone who fawns can be beautiful. Two imperfect people who know they’re imperfect, healing through each other, checking in, catching the moments where the pattern fires — that’s more connected than two “perfect” people performing confidence they don’t feel. The vulnerability of “I might fawn and I want you to know that” can be part of what draws people closer.

The problem isn’t the fawning. It’s what happens after. If you fawn — say yes when you meant no — and then catch yourself, own it, and come back with “I told you I was a yes when I was a no, and I’ll own that” — that’s a partner worth playing with. That’s someone who makes the dynamic safer over time, not less safe.

If you fawn and then blame the other person for believing you — cry victim, attack their character, make it their fault for not catching your fawning — that’s where the real damage happens. Not the fawn itself. The refusal to own it afterward.

Everything that follows in this chapter is about building the awareness and the responsibility to be the first kind of partner, not the second.

How Deep It Goes

People hear “fawning” and think of politeness. Saying yes to avoid awkwardness. Going along with something you’d rather not.

It goes deeper than that.

“It’s why one of my students didn’t scream during her rape — ‘I didn’t want to embarrass him.’”
— Kasia Urbaniak, Unbound: A Woman’s Guide to Power

Her fawning response overrode her survival instinct. The part of her that was trained to manage other people’s comfort was louder than the part screaming for help.

That’s fawning. Not politeness. A trauma response so deep it can override your body’s most basic drive to protect itself.

Everything in this chapter exists on a spectrum from “said yes when I meant no at a party” to that. Most fawning you’ll encounter is on the milder end. But understanding the extreme is what makes you take the pattern seriously — in yourself and in others.

The Two Victims Problem

When fawning happens, it creates TWO victims.

┌─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│                      FAWNING DYNAMIC                        │
├─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│                                                             │
│   Person A                        Person B                  │
│   ─────────                       ─────────                 │
│   Asks/initiates      ───────►    Fawns                     │
│                                   (says yes, means no)      │
│                                                             │
├─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│                                                             │
│                    RESULT: TWO VICTIMS                      │
│                                                             │
├─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│                                                             │
│   Person B is victimized by:                                │
│   ─────────────────────────                                 │
│     • Their own trauma response                             │
│     • An experience they didn't actually want               │
│                                                             │
├─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│                                                             │
│   Person A is victimized by:                                │
│   ─────────────────────────                                 │
│     • False information (thought consent was real)          │
│     • Their own consent violated (didn't agree to this)     │
│     • Feeling icky about touching someone who didn't want it│
│     • Potential future accusation                           │
│     • Being made into a "perpetrator" unknowingly           │
│                                                             │
├─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│                                                             │
│   RESPONSIBILITY                                            │
│   ──────────────                                            │
│     Person A: Check in, read cues, create safety            │
│     Person B: Own the fawn, communicate after               │
│                                                             │
└─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘

Simplified (for teaching)

     A asks  ──────►  B says "yes" (means "no")
        │                      │
        ▼                      ▼
    VICTIM                 VICTIM
    (didn't know)          (trauma response)
        │                      │
        └──────────┬───────────┘
                   │
                   ▼
           BOTH RESPONSIBLE
           (different ways)

That last point in the diagram matters most. Person A didn’t consent to non-consensual touch. They thought they were engaging in mutual, enthusiastic activity. They weren’t—and finding that out later feels icky, violating, wrong.

Person A may feel:

“I touched someone who didn’t want it—that’s not who I am”
“I would never have done that if I’d known”
“I feel gross about something I did in good faith”

This is real harm. Person B’s fawning created it.

The Severity Depends on the Fawner

Here’s the thing: the harm to Person A can be MEDIUM or HIGH—depending on how the fawner responds.

If the fawner takes responsibility:

Person A feels icky, has negative feelings to process
It’s uncomfortable but recoverable
Severity: MEDIUM

If the fawner goes full victim mode:

Person A is accused of being “rapey”
Person A’s reputation is attacked
Witch hunts may start
Person A may be banned, shunned, or publicly shamed
Severity: HIGH — potentially permanent harm

The fawner who cries Victim and blames Person A for “not catching their lie” is now creating HIGH severity harm to someone who was acting in good faith.

The fawner who started as a victim becomes the perpetrator.

The Trust You’re Placing

When you consent to play with someone you know has a fawning pattern, you’re trusting them:

To take responsibility for their pattern
To not cry victim if they fawn
To not attempt HIGH-severity harm against you
To own that their “yes” was their creation, not your violation

That trust is a gift. If a fawner betrays it by blaming their partner for believing them, they’re not just failing to take responsibility—they’re actively harming someone who trusted them.

Responsibility

Person A still has responsibility to check in and read cues. If they sense something off—hesitation, flatness, a “yes” that doesn’t feel enthusiastic—their job is to pause and ask:

“I hear you saying yes, but I’m feeling something else. Are you really a yes? What’s going on?”

If they don’t catch it, they’re still responsible for not catching it. But they’re also a victim of being lied to and doing something they never would have consented to do.

When They Say Yes Again (And It Still Feels Off)

Here’s the hard part: some fawners will say yes even when you check in. You ask if they’re really a yes. They say yes. You ask again. They say yes again. Three times in a row—and they’re still lying.

This means checking in is necessary but not sufficient.

You have to use your own discernment.

If you’ve checked in and they’ve confirmed yes, but your gut still feels uncertain—something still feels off—then don’t play. Their words said yes, but your body is telling you something isn’t right.

You are not obligated to play just because they said yes. You always have the right to say:

“I hear you saying yes, but something in me still doesn’t feel settled. I’m going to honor that and not move forward right now.”

This isn’t about doubting them. It’s about trusting yourself.

The lesson: Even when you do everything right—check in, ask directly, get verbal confirmation—sometimes they’re still fawning. Your final protection is your own felt sense. If it doesn’t feel like a real yes to you, it doesn’t matter what they say.

This isn’t theoretical. In the last year, I’ve used this felt-sense check to stop roughly 30 people from fawning to me — people who said yes but whose energy told me otherwise. I don’t catch it every time. But I learn from each time I catch it and each time I miss it, and missing it happens less and less.

And if you’re still not sure — wait. Check in again an hour or two later, when the pressure of the moment is gone. In-the-moment check-ins are good, but the person is still in the situation — they might double down on their fawn because saying “actually, no” right now feels harder than just going along with it. Later, when there’s no exercise starting, no partner waiting, no room watching — it’s easier for them to say “yeah, I was fawning. I appreciate you checking.” I’ve had people say yes to me three times in a row, in the moment, and then tell me later they were fawning the whole time. The in-the-moment check has limits. Checking later removes the pressure that makes fawning happen in the first place.

You might worry that saying “I’m not going to play with you right now” — when they told you yes — will feel like rejection. It usually doesn’t. When you talk about it later and they realize you saw through their fawn, it makes them feel safe with you. Fawners have a hard time feeling safe, because they don’t create safety for themselves. Someone who stops them from hurting themselves — who sees what they can’t say and acts on it — is one of the safest people they’ve ever met.

Person	Responsibility
Person A	Check in, read cues, create safety for honesty
Person B	Own the fawn, communicate after, don’t blame A for believing you

Why This Matters

The culture often only sees Person B as the victim. The full picture is different:

Fawning harms both parties
The fawner has responsibility too
Person A cannot consent to something they didn’t know was happening

Only You Can Protect You

Here’s a hard truth for fawners:

No one else can protect you from your fawning. Only you can.

The Fantasy

Some fawners seek out partners or friends who are good at reading them—people who catch their lies, notice when their “yes” doesn’t match their energy, and call it out.

This feels safe. “Finally, someone who won’t let me hurt myself.”

But here’s the problem:

Even the best lie-detector is only going to catch it 90% of the time. Maybe 95%. Nobody is perfect. Which means even with the theoretically ideal partner, the fawner isn’t 100% safe from themselves.

And that’s assuming they’re only interacting with one person.

The Reality

You have multiple relationships in your life. Romantic partners, friends, colleagues, facilitators, strangers at events. Most of them aren’t going to be anywhere near perfect at detecting your fawning.

Which means:

You will fawn with people who don’t catch it
You will have experiences you didn’t want
You will feel violated by things you said yes to
And no one can prevent that except you

The Victim Trap

Some fawners, when their fawning isn’t caught, cry Victim:

“You should have caught my lie”
“I feel violated”
“You’re giving me rapey energy”
“You should have known I didn’t mean it”

Sometimes the other person did miss cues and has responsibility for that.

But often, the other person did nothing wrong. They believed a yes that sounded like a yes. They don’t have “rapey energy”—the fawner just isn’t owning their power.

The Only Path to Safety

The hard truth:

The only way a fawner can ever truly feel safe is to take responsibility for their fawning.

Not to find a perfect partner who catches every lie. Not to blame others for not reading minds. Not to cry victim when their pattern creates consequences.

But to:

Recognize that fawning is their pattern
Take ownership of it
Work on it actively
Practice saying no when they mean no
Stop blaming others for believing their yes

Fawning is automatic. It’s a trauma response. It’s a bitch to grow out of.

But you can grow out of it with practice. And it’s the only way you’ll ever stop being in pain.

Ownership Creates Change

The empowered fawner:

Owns their pattern
Doesn’t blame others for believing them
Works on changing the pattern
Takes 100% control of their safety

The disempowered fawner:

Blames others for not catching them
Cries victim when their fawning has consequences
Expects others to protect them from themselves
Never changes

One of these paths leads to safety, growth, and genuine connection.

The other leads to endless cycles of violation, blame, and victimhood.

Here’s the good news:

“The best part of being part of the problem is you can be part of the solution.” — Tony Robbins

If your fawning creates problems, that means you have the power to stop creating them. You’re not helpless. You’re not at the mercy of others. You usually have 100% control over whether you get the outcomes you want—if you’re willing to use it.

What Taking Responsibility Looks Like

“But fawning is automatic,” you might say. “Even when I’m aware of it, I watch myself do it and feel like I have no control. How can I take responsibility for something I can’t control in the moment?”

Fair question. Let’s look at what responsibility actually means:

How did my actions—or inactions—create this outcome? What can I do to create a different outcome instead?

Even if you fawn when things come up—even if you fail nine times out of ten—there are still actions you can take.

The Empowered Fawner’s Practice

One powerful action: Announce your pattern upfront.

Before playing with someone, before pairing up for an exercise, before entering a dynamic—tell them:

“I want you to know that I have a pattern of fawning. That means I sometimes say yes to things I’m actually a no to.

I want to play with you / do this exercise with you, and I want to own this about myself.

My request is: if I say yes but my energy doesn’t feel like a yes, please check in with me. Ask if I’m really a yes.

And I want you to know: if I fawn, I will take responsibility for it. Even if I feel upset in the moment, I’ll recover and recognize that what happened was my creation.

I’m not going to blame you. I might ask you to notice what happened so you can learn to detect fawning better next time—but I won’t throw all responsibility on you. I’ll take responsibility for not saying no.

I recognize that your touch is a privilege and a gift. If you decide to play with me knowing I have this pattern, you’re putting trust in my hands to not cry victim. I thank you for that.

I really want to work out of this pattern, and this will help me. I also really want to play.“

This is what an empowered fawner sounds like.

Why This Works

This approach:

Takes 100% control of your safety
Gives others the information they need to support you
Sets expectations so no one is blindsided
Removes your ability to blame them later
Creates genuine consent—they’re choosing to interact knowing the risks
Turns your pattern into a growth opportunity instead of a landmine

The Victim Alternative

Compare that to the fawner who:

Says nothing beforehand
Fawns during the interaction
Feels violated afterward
Blames the other person for not catching it
Claims they had “rapey energy”
Takes no responsibility
Learns nothing
Repeats the pattern forever

One fawner is creating change. The other is creating drama.

And if your fawning led to an attack on someone who believed your “yes” — if you accused them, spread a story about them, or turned a miscommunication into a narrative about their character — that’s a separate harm that deserves its own repair. Not for the fawning itself, but for what you did after. See Repair Goes Both Ways.

It Gets Easier

Yes, fawning is automatic. Yes, you might fail nine times out of ten at first.

But with practice:

You’ll catch yourself more often
The pause before fawning gets longer
You’ll be able to say “wait, I need a moment” more often
Eventually, saying no when you mean no becomes possible

Growth is slow. But it’s real. And it only happens when you take responsibility for your pattern instead of outsourcing your safety to others.

The Wolf Who Cried Boy