Coaching 101: FAWNING
- Dezi Golden, LMT-CLC
- Mar 28
- 3 min read
Dear Dezi,
I remember you mentioning fawning in one of our group sessions, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I notice I do this—especially around my husband. He’s… a bit much, and I find it easier to just not be like him. What I mean is I try to be opposite. He’s extracts so much attention, especially around others.
Is that healthy, or should I be making waves?
—T.B. in Cruces
***
Hey girl,
I’m really glad you wrote in. This is such an honest question—and a really important one. Let’s talk about fawning. I have personal experience with this.
At its core, fawning is something we learn as a way to adapt. It’s a self-protective response, often shaped in childhood, when our needs were only met sometimes—or only when it worked for someone else. I want to walk you through it gently.
When we’re born, we actually know exactly how to express what we need. We cry, we reach, we seek comfort. Our nervous systems are beautifully designed for connection and care.
For a while, everything we need is given to us. But then… we enter the world of other people. And they don’t always get it right (no manual, so we can’t fully blame; being a new parent is brutal! lol).
If a parent is emotionally unavailable—or more focused on their own needs, their image, their addictions, childhood wounding, or their feelings—it changes things. Especially in dynamics like narcissism, where the child’s needs come second or even last.
So when you expressed yourself as a little one, you may have been:
Ignored
Punished
Only responded to when it was convenient (common in today's busy lifestyle)
Or shamed
And over time, your system learned something very important:
It’s not safe to have needs.
So you adapted. Because children always do.
You may have learned to:
Stay quiet
Not ask for help
Take care of yourself
Anticipate what others need
Become easy, agreeable, low-maintenance
This is fawning.
It’s the quiet belief:“If I don’t need anything, I won’t get hurt.”
And it works—for a while.
But over time, it can create distance between you and your own needs. You might notice:
You’re not sure what you need anymore
Receiving feels uncomfortable
You give more than you get
Asking for support brings guilt or anxiety
You become “the strong one.” The one who handles everything. The one who doesn’t ask for much.
And underneath it all is that old wiring:“I’m on my own.”
But here’s the part I really want you to hold onto, TB:
There is nothing wrong with you.
Your nervous system did exactly what it needed to do to protect you. It kept you safe in a space where your needs didn’t always feel welcome. And now—you’re noticing it. That matters so much. Because awareness is where things begin to shift.
So let’s gently introduce something new:
It’s safe to have needs
It’s safe to express them
It’s safe to receive
You don’t have to flip a switch or “make waves” overnight. Instead, think small. Think safe.
You might try:
Pausing and asking, “What do I need right now?”
Noticing your feelings before brushing them aside
Asking for something small—and letting it be enough
Letting safe people show up for you
Receiving without rushing to give something back
Little by little, you teach your system something new:
I’m allowed to need.I’m allowed to be supported.
You didn’t become too much. And you didn’t become too quiet. You became adaptive. Perceptive. Strong in a very specific way.
And now, you get to expand that strength—from surviving… into being supported.
I can tell you from experience—this takes building new mental muscle. I still struggle with it, even now at my ripe age. Learning to let others show up for me… to receive… or even to walk away when something doesn’t feel right—it’s all a practice.
I pause a lot. Even before responding to a text or a phone call. I try to check in with what I’m feeling before I react, and give my nervous system a moment to catch up.
I’m really proud of you for reaching out.
If you want to explore fawning more, I’m available before 2pm daily. We also talk about it often in group—it’s something that comes up a lot, because rewiring these patterns doesn’t happen overnight.
I’d love to see you there.
—Dezi

