Okay, I have to start the review with a confession. When I first saw the subtitle of Are You Mad at Me?: How to Stop Focusing on What Others Think and Start Living for You, I groaned a little. It sounded like yet another run-of-the-mill self-help book. There’s no shortage of titles about people-pleasing and codependency, but so many skim the surface. They talk about lots of “be confident!” pep talks, not much depth. They don’t dig into the deeper roots, such as the experiences that planted the seeds of self-abandonment in the first place.

That’s why I want to say this right away: this book deserves a better subtitle, one that can draw in more readers. It deserves a wide readership because it goes beyond the obvious. Yes, it talks about people-pleasing, but it also digs deeper into its roots, such as the things that happen before we even realize we’re putting everyone else’s needs ahead of our own. It’s about “stop doing this” as well as understanding why we do it in the first place. And for me, that “why” was a total lightbulb moment.

In Are You Mad at Me?, Meg Josephson talks about something rarely discussed yet disturbingly normalized in our world: fawning. Most of us know fight (get aggressive), flight (run away), and freeze (mentally check out). But fawning? It’s about making yourself more appealing to the threat (pleasing, appeasing, accommodating) so you can feel safe. And for many women, especially those raised in high-conflict or emotionally neglectful homes, fawning is second nature. It’s the survival skill behind that constant, anxious inner question: Are they mad at me?

Josephson’s writing is warm, personal, and touching where I often found myself moved and deeply saddened by the many personal stories shared in this book. I came away not only with a better understanding of behaviors I had barely noticed in myself, but also with tools I had been too scared to try because I misunderstood how they worked.

I’m truly grateful for this book, and I can’t recommend it enough. Please, please read it. My summary below only scratches the surface of how insightful it is. I learned so much from these pages, and I believe you will too.

Summary

Fawning, The Hidden Trauma Response That Masquerades as Kindness

When we think about trauma responses, most of us can name the big three: fight, flight, and freeze. Fight is about confronting the threat head-on, such as arguing, yelling, or even using force. Flight is about getting out by physically leaving, cutting ties, or disappearing. Freeze happens when escape isn’t possible, so we mentally “check out” through dissociation, emotional numbness, or constant daydreaming.

But there’s a fourth trauma response that we rarely talk about, even though it may be the most common of all: fawning.

Fawning means trying to make ourselves more appealing to the threat, such as by winning its approval, meeting its needs, keeping it comfortable, so that we feel safe. It’s moving toward the source of harm instead of away from it. And, sadly, our culture often rewards it. We’re praised for being “team players” and “selfless,” even if that means ignoring our own needs. Promotions often go to people who people-please. Compliments pour in when we anticipate others’ needs before our own. For many, especially women and people in vulnerable position, this behavior is learned early in life and reinforced by societal norms that encourage us to appease, sacrifice, and smooth things over, no matter the cost to ourselves.

In chaotic or unsafe childhood homes, a child might learn that fighting escalates danger, freezing doesn’t offer much protection, and running away isn’t an option. Fawning becomes the survival strategy of choice where they are earning safety by being helpful, agreeable, and non-threatening.

The price is we often abandon ourselves in the process. We decide the other person’s comfort is more important than our own. We can’t feel okay until they do.

It’s important to see the difference between being nice and being compassionate:

• Being nice is about how others see us, doing something to be viewed as “good.”
• Compassion is about authenticity, choosing kindness because it feels right, not because we fear consequences.

This is where motivation matters. Are we saying “yes” because we truly want to, or because we’re afraid someone will be upset if we say “no”?

Social conditioning plays a huge role here. Women, for example, are often taught that anger makes them “crazy,” disagreement makes them “difficult,” and firmness makes them “mean.” On top of that, race, class, gender identity, sexuality, cultural background, religion, or disability can deepen the need to fawn to stay safe within oppressive systems.

It’s crucial to remember that fawning isn’t inherently bad, but it’s an adaptive survival mechanism. Sometimes, it keeps us safe. But when it becomes an unconscious habit, it traps us in the belief: My safety depends on pleasing you.

Hypervigilance, Living Life on High Alert

A key part of the fawn response is something called hypervigilance, a state where the nervous system is always on guard, scanning for danger, whether the threat is real or not. Imagine your brain acting like a security camera on a constant loop, never shutting off.

We all experience moments of hypervigilance now and then. For example, you’re trying to fall asleep and hear a strange sound downstairs, then suddenly, your body tenses, your ears strain, and your mind races. But for chronic fawners, that sense of alertness isn’t an occasional blip. It’s an everyday reality. And it’s exhausting.

For people stuck in this cycle, hypervigilance doesn’t stop at scanning the physical environment. It extends to emotional monitoring, ****constantly checking the “emotional weather” of those around us, trying to predict their moods, reactions, and needs so we can adapt and keep things safe.

For some, this heightened awareness is not just a present-day habit but a survival strategy woven through childhood and into adulthood. What might look like self-sabotage from the outside is often self-protection in disguise.

Sometimes, those present fears aren’t random phobias to “get over.” They were once essential tools, helping a younger version of us survive.

Trauma Is How Our Body Remembers It

Trauma isn’t defined by the size of the events but how our nervous system perceives and processes it. Repeated “small” hurts can be just as damaging as one catastrophic event. When we’re repeatedly left feeling unsafe, unseen, unheard, or unloved by the very people meant to protect us, it creates what’s called complex trauma.

Fawning often grows out of this kind of environment where the relationships that should have felt safe and nurturing instead felt unpredictable, neglectful, or even harmful. Complex trauma can stem from emotional abuse, verbal attacks, physical violence, sexual abuse, or neglect. It’s about what happened as well as about what didn’t happen: the love, support, and care we didn’t receive during or after the pain.

Because complex trauma builds slowly over time, it can be hard to recognize. It might have felt “normal” simply because it was all you knew.

Trauma Is a Time Traveler

Trauma can travel through generations. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually, we can carry the unprocessed wounds, unmet needs, and unresolved pain of our parents, grandparents, and ancestors. This is known as intergenerational trauma.

Research has shown that even the children of Holocaust survivors had genetic markers indicating lower cortisol levels compared to Jewish adults whose parents were not survivors. Low cortisol levels are a known marker when evaluating for PTSD.

It happens because prolonged stress can dysregulate the HPA axis, the system that controls our body’s stress response. Over time, this can blunt cortisol production, leaving the body with a lower baseline level. In other words, the trauma in our bodies can reflect the tragedies, oppression, and losses endured by those who came before us.

The Body Remembers What the Mind Tries to Forget

One of the most powerful shifts in healing comes from changing our relationship with our anxious thoughts and with our own body. That meant slowing down. Breathing deeply. Paying attention to what was happening inside me instead of running from it. It meant facing the discomfort I had been carrying for years.

Fawning disconnects us from our bodies. So does living in a culture that teaches us to shrink, physically and emotionally, so we take up less space. We’re bombarded with messages that our worth depends on being smaller, slimmer, younger, or somehow “different” from who we are now. This disconnection is profitable. Entire industries thrive on our self-loathing.

Reconnecting to the body is an act of quiet rebellion. To be embodied, in tune with your body, accepting it in all its seasons, cycles, and changes, is to reject the idea that you need to become “less” to be worthy. It’s declaring: I have value right now, exactly as I am.

When Loneliness Wears the Mask of Hyperindependence

Sometimes loneliness doesn’t look like isolation. It looks like hyperindependence. It’s the deeply ingrained belief that you have to handle everything yourself, that it’s unsafe to lean on anyone else. For many, this begins in childhood, when they had to act as their own parent far too soon. Depending on others felt risky, so self-reliance became the safest choice.

But fawning plays a quiet role here, too. It allows people in only to a certain depth. On the surface, you might seem open and agreeable, but emotionally, there’s a barrier, one that keeps others from seeing the real you.

The truth is, how deeply we can connect with others is directly tied to how deeply we’re connected to ourselves. If we’ve learned to abandon or hide our true feelings, intimacy will always feel out of reach.

Start Small, Building Safety While Reclaiming Your Voice

When healing from the fawn response, the key is to move slowly by taking steps that stretch your comfort zone without overwhelming your body. Each step should feel a little uncomfortable, but not unsafe.

This is especially true when you’re practicing honesty, saying “no,” and setting boundaries. Begin with people you feel safest with, and start in low-stakes situations. Low-stakes will look different for everyone, but it might be as simple as:

• Telling a close friend you only have thirty minutes to chat.
• Letting your partner know you’d like some quality one-on-one time.
• Telling a trusted coworker you’d rather not eat lunch at the same place every day because you’re saving money.

Each time you do this, you’re sending a powerful message to the part of you that still feels afraid: It’s safe to speak up for my needs. With every small win, you’re also rebuilding something precious: your self-trust.

My Favorite Bits

Because once we stop focusing so much on what others think, we can remember who we are

Meg Josephson, Are You Mad at Me?

I had been taught up until that point that keeping quiet kept the peace, but then I realized it wasn’t my peace I was keeping, and I was tired of it.

Meg Josephson, Are You Mad at Me?

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Author: Meg Josephson, LCSW
Publication date: 5 August 2025
Number of pages: 304 pages

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