Eva Lauterlein, Vertigo(s) 2005, Collection Huis Marseille. Image: evalauterlein.net

‘That was the very last lemon pie I baked for you!’ I remember thinking this to myself. Jeroen, my husband, had just dissed my homemade pie. In front of my recently acquainted in-laws and other family members. It was on Easter, quite a few years ago.

Besides the ‘I’ll never bake you a pie again’, there was some more internal discussion I entertained myself with at the Easter table. Here’s some of the rumbling:

‘Granted, the shape of the pie is all but perfect, it merely resembles an imploded parachute with one side off. The taste is yummy though!’

‘Who the heck does Jeroen think he is to expose me in this way to his entire family? Who has cleaned the house, set the table with Easter linen and yellow baby ducks and prepared the mackerel salad!?!’

I was pissed off, mad at Jeroen. His criticism pushed a couple of buttons inside me that stirred everything up. My internal defense mechanism took charge of the situation however: I froze up. Instead of yelling at Jeroen that he wouldn’t get any more pies from me, there was no reaction at all. I didn’t flinch.

Going ballistic over a lemon pie that doesn’t meet the standards of a home cooking contest? Really? That’s a pretty strong and not so proportional reaction. There weren’t any dead bodies on the kitchen floor and no one got injured.

Attention! Disproportional strong response alarm!

Whenever I see myself respond in this way, and transitioning into fight, flight or freeze mode, I know I need to pay attention, because there’s a 99% chance that something painful inside me has been touched upon, something that has been under the radar but got triggered by a particular situation. And as I -like every human being- always try to avoid pain, my system pulled all the stops: ‘Don’t want to go there! Let’s just freeze up. That’s much safer. Just in time. Potential danger avoided.’

So what was the danger that needed to be avoided at all costs? Me, the new to the family daughter-in-law wanted to prepare the perfect Easter lunch at the perfectly set table serving the perfect pie. Why? Because there was a part in me that was very fearful of rejection. It needed to be covered up with exemplary behavior and perfect hospitality. Hoping for a compliment and admiration from other people in an attempt to fill this empty space within me.

Perfectionism had been a strategy that had served me well over the years. It kept my fear of rejection safely out of sight.

Until that very Easter lunch.

There was no perfect pie as Jeroen pointed out very clearly to me and the other attendees. Consequently, the entire cover up system fell through. With a fight, flight, freeze response as the last lifeline. All put in place in order for me not to have to face this fearful part in me.

I write this in the past tense on purpose. That’s not because my fear for rejection has completely disappeared since. My way of dealing with it has though. Because after the fear had surfaced itself during the lunch and at other occasions, I started to recognize the pattern. And instead of pushing the uncomfortable feeling away, I chose to acknowledge it and build a relationship with it.

With result.

Earlier today, after a phone conversation with a client in which she turned down one of my proposals, I realized that my system doesn’t perceive a rejection as life threatening anymore.

I’ve replaced it with something else: a knowing that my heart can bear it. Easily.

I’d love to hear what situations make you get into fight, flight or freeze mode. Any idea what’s going on underneath? You can share your insights or other remarks in the comments section below. You’ll always get a reply.