On my path to healing and growth, one of my tenets has always been this: if I can help someone learn something that made my path better, younger than I learned it, I will.
I would have shared this before, but unfortunately it’s taken me most of my adult life to understand.
The exhaustion you feel is not a character flaw. The first thing I gravitated to when I learned about Human Design was the fact that as Projector energy type, I need to rest. But even if you aren’t a Projector or into Human Design, if you are drawn to my writing or meditations, chances are you are highly sensitive and your nervous system has been attuned to this sensitivity your whole life.
You probably scan a room when you walk in, reading the emotional temperature before you have said a single word. Maybe you even adjust your volume, your needs, your opinion, or your entire presence based on what the people around you seem to need from you. Or how about the way you can spend an entire evening focused entirely on whether everyone else is okay and arrive home depleted in a way that makes you not want to leave home again for a week - even though that’s not the game plan.
What I am describing here is not anxiety or weakness. It doesn’t mean you don’t love people. It is a nervous system that learned, somewhere along the way, that the safest way to belong was to make yourself useful, stay available and ensure that the people around you remained regulated so that you could borrow enough of that stability to feel okay yourself.
This nervous system response has a name and when I learned it, it changed everything for me.
The response is called fawn.
Most people have heard of fight and flight. Many have heard of freeze. Fewer know about fawn — the fourth protective response, the one that looks the most like kindness, empathy, and strength, and is therefore the hardest to recognize as survival.
Fawn is the nervous system’s most sophisticated protection strategy. It says: I cannot fight my way to safety or run from this. I cannot shut down and disappear. But if I can anticipate needs before they become demands, smooth tensions before they become conflicts, and stay one step ahead of everyone else’s emotional state — then maybe I will be safe and loved.
It works, for a while. That is the terrible and beautiful thing about fawn — as a survival strategy, it works extraordinarily well. Fawn keeps you employed, keeps imbalanced relationships intact and feeds your ego because people describe you as incredibly thoughtful, someone they can always count on, as the person who somehow always knows what to say.
But it costs you is yourself…like death by a thousand cuts.
Fawn costs you in small daily withdrawals and micro slips of self abandonment that are imperceptible until they start stacking up - the opinion you didn’t offer, the need you didn’t name, the moment you absorbed someone else’s discomfort rather than allowing them to sit with it. The accumulation of those withdrawals, over years, is what eventually presents as chronic exhaustion, as a vague sense of disconnection from your own life, as the unsettling experience of looking around at a life that appears fine while feeling underneath all of it profoundly alone and exhausted.
Here is what the wellness industry does not want you to know.
The wellness industry has a business model built on that disconnection. Something in you feels off, restless or not quite okay in a way you cannot fully name. Then the industry meets you there with a product, a program, a system, a protocol that promises to be the external thing that will finally make you feel internally okay.
Some of it genuinely helps. I am not saying it is all malicious, I’ve bought lots of things, worked with lots of practitioners, met amazing people and benefitted. It’s not all bad.
But the model itself — you are insufficient and here is the thing that will fix you — is a model that requires you to stay insufficient and has bothered me for a long time. What I didn’t know before I found somatic meditation is that a person who has returned to themselves, who has found the quiet, who has built a genuine relationship with their own nervous system’s intelligence, is not a particularly good consumer.
I built the Healing Home Method™ from my own experience of healing. And I built it with a specific intention that runs counter to how most wellness products are designed.
I built it to make itself eventually unnecessary. It’s a practice that the body remembers and then learns to return to on it’s own, the way the body was so intelligently designed to do, before the pattern was interrupted.
The arc of the library — 30 somatic meditations that move from acute nervous system regulation through emotional capacity, relational healing, and integrated daily living — ends with a practice called You Are the Safe Place. The final meditation does not tell you to keep going. It says: what you have been practicing is now available to you as a way of being, not a technique.
That is what I wish I would have known earlier.
That I didn’t need another external thing to depend on but a practice that builds your capacity to return to yourself — until returning to yourself is simply what you do.
If any of this resonates, start here: the Vagus Nerve Reset is free on my YouTube channel. Twelve minutes, no experience required. Just your body, a little break and an honest return to yourself.
Listen to the free Vagus Nerve Reset
With love & optimism,
Wendy
Wendy Jones is the creator of Wendy Jones Meditations on YouTube and the Healing Home Method™, a somatic meditation library for nervous system healing and human transformation. She lives in Southern California and is the mother of four grown children.
www.healing-home.co
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