Shut Down, Smiling, and Slowly Breaking - How to Stop Mistaking Survival for Strength
Sometimes what looks like calm on the outside is really just survival. You smile, stay quiet, keep the peace because it feels safer that way.
That kind of stillness is not the calm that comes from feeling safe, but the kind that comes from walking on eggshells for too long.
Today we’ll look at the difference between real, grounded calmness and the version that’s shaped by fear, trauma, or habit.
Because recognizing the difference is the first quiet step towards healing and reclaiming the version of peace that actually feels like peace.
What is healthy vs unhealthy states of calmness?
Healthy Calmness
This is a regulated, grounded state. You feel clear, present, and safe in your own body and mind.
You’re able to think critically, set boundaries, and stay emotionally attuned. It’s often hard-earned, built from inner safety, not from others behaving perfectly, but from your capacity to respond rather than react.
Signs of healthy calmness:
You can take a deep breath and feel your body soften.
You don’t feel the urge to explain, fix, or please.
You can pause and reflect before speaking or acting.
Your inner voice feels kind and sturdy, not panicked or numb.
You can tolerate someone else's discomfort without abandoning yourself.
Unhealthy Calmness
This is a freeze or fawn state disguised as peace. It often shows up as emotional numbness, disconnection, or false detachment.
You might seem "okay" on the outside, but inside you’re suppressing fear, walking on eggshells, or mentally checking out to survive. It’s not peace, it’s shutdown or appeasement.
Signs of unhealthy calmness:
You feel distant or foggy, like you're watching life happen to you.
You avoid conflict by saying “it’s fine” when it’s not.
You downplay harm, hoping things will improve if you just stay quiet.
Your body feels frozen, still, or heavy, not soothed.
You're praised for being "so calm," but inside you're full of dread or resignation.
What causes “fake calmness”
Here are five possible internal states that can mimic calmness but aren’t truly calm, especially for someone surviving a toxic relationship:
1. Freeze Response
You appear quiet and composed, but internally you’re immobilized. Your nervous system has gone into shutdown mode to protect you from overwhelm.
Looks like: stillness, flat affect, polite compliance
Feels like: numbness, disconnection, mental fog
Example: You're sitting through an abusive conversation, not reacting—but only because you’ve dissociated.
2. Fawn Response
You look agreeable and easygoing, but you're appeasing someone to avoid conflict. You're hyper-aware of their mood and tailoring yourself to keep them calm.
Looks like: kindness, helpfulness, soft tone
Feels like: fear, pressure to "manage" the other person's emotions
Example: You reassure a toxic partner that “everything’s okay” even though you're deeply hurt, just to avoid a blow-up.
3. Dissociation
You seem calm because you’re detached, from your body, your feelings, or the present moment. This can be a survival strategy when emotional overwhelm becomes too much.
Looks like: passivity, slow or minimal emotional reactions
Feels like: floating, spacing out, emotional flatness
Example: You're in the middle of a fight and suddenly feel like you're watching it happen from outside yourself.
4. Learned Helplessness
You’re not reacting, not because you’re at peace, but because you’ve given up hope that anything you do will matter. It’s a state of psychological surrender.
Looks like: resignation, acceptance
Feels like: hopelessness, defeat, quiet despair
Example: You don’t set boundaries anymore because “they never work anyway.”
5. Hyper-rationalization
You’re over-intellectualizing or spiritualizing your pain, using logic to distance yourself from feeling it.
Looks like: calm, insightful, philosophical
Feels like: disconnected, hollow, bypassing
Example: “They had a rough childhood, I can’t take this personally,” while your needs go unmet.
These states are adaptive, not signs of weakness. They help people survive, but if they’re mistaken for true calm, they can trap you in cycles of self-abandonment.
Why victims resort to one of these states in an abusive relationship
Victims resort to these mimicry states of calmness like freezing, fawning, or dissociating because they are survival strategies. They emerge when fight or flight either aren’t possible or have failed repeatedly.
How To Tell If You’re Dissociating And Whether Or Not You’re Confusing Survival Mode For Calmness
If you’d like an easy method to tell if you’re dissociating and whether or not you’re confusing survival mode for calmness…
You can access it by becoming a member and reading the paid version of this newsletter.
Click the button below to become a member:
Plus, I also included a personal story of mine dealing with fake calmness as well as a 90-second trick you can do right now to get a quick win over your narcissistic partner’s evil doings.
When My Calm Was Just a Disguise
Many survivors confuse emotional shutdown with maturity. I did too. I thought staying calm—stoic even—meant I was in control. But what I was really doing was dissociating.
Could you be dissociating?
What Dissociation Is:
Dissociation is a protective disconnection. It’s the brain’s way of shielding you from overwhelming emotional, physical, or psychological pain especially when you can’t escape the source of that distress.
It can involve detaching from:
Your body (feeling floaty or numb)
Your emotions (feeling flat, like you don’t care)
Your thoughts (spacing out, blank mind)
Your environment (like watching life from far away)
It’s not weakness it’s your nervous system’s emergency brake when fight, flight, or fawn won’t work.
What Dissociation Is Not
❌ It’s not zoning out on purpose or being lazy.
❌ It’s not a personality flaw or evidence that someone isn’t trying.
❌ It’s not the same as meditation, numbing with TV, or being introverted.
❌ It’s not always visible to others, many high-functioning survivors dissociate quietly.
Examples of Dissociation in a Toxic Relationship
You can’t remember parts of a fight, like your brain blacked out.
You’re physically present during intimacy, but mentally gone.
You hear cruel words but feel weirdly blank or far away.
You laugh at something hurtful because your emotional response is delayed or offline.
Over time, dissociation becomes less of a momentary escape and more of a default way of existing, a constant survival mode where the body is present, but the self feels far away.
Are You Mistaking Survival Mode for Calmness?
These true-or-false statements can help you identify which self-protective patterns you may be using to cope with a toxic relationship. There’s no score—just gentle insight.
Freeze Response
☐ I often feel paralyzed during or after arguments.
☐ I stay quiet to avoid making things worse, even if I’m hurting.
☐ I feel like I’m watching life from the outside, not fully in it.
Fawn Response
☐ I try to stay agreeable to avoid setting someone off.
☐ I apologize or smooth things over even when I’m not at fault.
☐ I’m praised for being “so easygoing,” but inside I feel tense or afraid.
Dissociation
☐ I frequently zone out or “go blank” during stressful moments.
☐ I sometimes realize I have no memory of parts of a conversation.
☐ I feel disconnected from my body or emotions—like I’m on autopilot.
Learned Helplessness
☐ I’ve stopped trying to set boundaries because they never seem to work.
☐ I tell myself, “That’s just how they are,” and try to endure.
☐ I feel like nothing I do will make a difference anymore.
Emotional Suppression
☐ I often talk myself out of feeling upset: “It’s not that bad.”
☐ I try to appear fine, even when I’m falling apart inside.
☐ I’ve trained myself not to cry, speak up, or show too much emotion.
Instead of Calmness, Try this instead
When facing stress or duress in a toxic relationship, a survivor’s instinct is often to shut down, appease, or disconnect but those responses, while protective, can also prolong harm.
If the goal is to begin shifting toward self-protection and inner safety, here’s what someone could begin doing differently (without needing the abuser to change):
1. Notice and Name What’s Happening
Instead of emotionally collapsing, they can pause and internally narrate:
“I’m feeling the urge to freeze or fawn right now. That’s a sign I don’t feel safe.” This creates a micro-moment of awareness, a split-second wedge between stimulus and reaction.
2. Reconnect with the Body
Abuse pulls survivors out of their bodies. Even simple grounding can help:
Pressing feet into the floor
Taking one intentional breath
Touching a textured object or placing a hand on their heart
This tells the nervous system: I’m still here. I matter.
3. Set Micro-Boundaries Internally
Even if they don’t say anything out loud, they can reclaim a sense of agency by thinking:
“I’m not going to argue with this. I don’t need to explain myself again.”
or
“I’ll protect my energy by not taking this bait.”
This reframes inaction as intentional, not helpless.
4. Create an Exit Plan, Even Emotionally
Survivors often feel trapped, but even visualizing freedom can shift their sense of power:
“I don’t have to fix this today. But I’m gathering strength to do something different soon.”
They can start planning practical steps quietly, like documenting behavior, researching support, or journaling truth.
5. Post-Event Recovery Instead of Suppression
After a difficult encounter, instead of pushing feelings down, they can do a “nervous system debrief”:
Journal what happened
Shake out tension
Cry, scream into a pillow, or walk briskly.
This honors the impact and discharges some of the emotional buildup
The goal isn’t to confront the abuser in the moment, it’s to stay connected to self in the face of fear. These small internal shifts build the foundation for bigger steps later.
Reclaim Your Calm (the real kind)
The next time you feel yourself shrinking, shutting down, or smoothing things over to survive just take a moment to pause 90 seconds, try this instead:
Name the Feeling
Silently say: “I feel unsafe.”
Then name what your body is doing: “I’m holding my breath. My chest feels tight. I want to disappear.”
Take One Full Breath
Let your shoulders drop. Inhale for 4 counts. Hold for 4. Exhale slowly for 6.
And then remind yourself:
“This moment won’t last. I don’t need to fix it, I just need to stay connected to myself.”
Anchor in a Truth
Choose one grounding phrase:
“I have a right to feel what I feel.”
“This is not my fault.”
“My calm doesn’t have to mean silence.”
That’s it. You just broke the pattern. That’s real strength.
Do this every time, and your nervous system will start to believe you are safe, even when they don’t act safe.
What feels like calm isn’t always peace.
Sometimes it’s a freeze response, a habit of staying small, or a way to get through the moment without more damage. Naming that doesn’t mean something is wrong with you…
It means you’re starting to see clearly.
Resources
“Dissociation: A Survival Mechanism for Narcissistic Abuse Victims”
“Freeze and Fawn: Trauma Responses Undermine Self‑Protection”
“Fawn Response: The Trauma Survival Pattern That’s Mistaken for Kindness”