Working With Freeze: A Nuanced, Body-based Guide
Part One: What Freeze Is (and Why It Makes Sense)
Our nervous systems are under pressure like never before— stretched by the speed of modern life, our constant access to information, and a world that increasingly feels unpredictable and unsafe, especially for certain identities and communities. We might find ourselves moving through daily life, functioning outwardly, but feeling braced, shut down, or disconnected inside.
In my work as a therapist and Somatic Experiencing Practitioner, I often sit with people who aren’t necessarily lacking insight or effort, but whose bodies have learned that slowing, stopping, or staying quiet was the safest option available. They know what might help. They want change. And yet, something inside holds back.
When we understand this through a nervous system lens, we see that the holding back isn’t resistance or avoidance, but rather protection— often “protect through withdrawal” (maybe relationally, physically, emotionally, etc). And working with freeze begins by honoring why stopping once made sense.
The “freeze” response is often misunderstood. It’s commonly described as feeling stuck, shut down, numb, disconnected, or unable to move forward and while those experiences can be part of it, freeze is not a failure of motivation, willpower, or resilience. Through a polyvagal lens, freeze is a highly adaptive survival response that is meant to keep us safe, alive or socially belonging when there is threat or danger. It becomes an issue when we get chronically “stuck” in freeze, when it becomes our baseline, or when we are having a hard time shifting out of that response. Over time, living in chronic freeze can take a real toll— physically and psychologically.
When our nervous system perceives threat and neither fight nor flight feel possible or safe, the system may move into a dorsal vagal–dominant (parasympathetic) state. This is the body’s way of conserving energy, reducing pain, and increasing the chances of survival when escape isn’t an option. Freeze can involve immobilization, dissociation, brain fog, fatigue, or emotional flatness as a form of protection. Importantly, freeze isn’t an “off switch”. It often exists alongside activation. Many people in freeze still feel anxious, keyed up, or internally panicked while outwardly shut down. This blended state (parasympathetic and sympathetic) is common and deeply confusing— and it’s one reason people in freeze are so often misread (by themselves and others). I often think of it as the gas and brakes on at the same time, so it’s making a lot of noise but not really getting us anywhere!
More recently, the term “functional freeze” has surfaced describing going through the motions, functioning on the outside, but feeling braced, shut down, or disconnected on the inside. Depression and the symptoms associated are often a nervous system in freeze or collapse/shutdown, sometimes the result of a chronically interrupted fight or flight response (that then becomes under-active). Freeze emerges when the nervous system learns, implicitly, that movement, expression, or action could make things worse. Over time, it becomes a familiar strategy, not necessarily because it’s pleasant, but because it once worked.
Part Two: Recognizing Freeze and Body-Based Ways to Work With It
How Freeze Might Show Up
Freeze doesn’t look the same for everyone. Some common expressions include:
Difficulty initiating tasks, even ones you care about
Feeling heavy, foggy, or collapsed in the body
Emotional numbness or muted affect
Dissociation or feeling far away from yourself
A sense of being "behind glass" or watching life happen
Digestion issues
Chronic exhaustion that rest doesn’t seem to fix
Anxiety with no clear outlet or action
You might also notice a pattern of knowing what would help, but being unable to access it. That gap is more reflective of a nervous system state than a mindset issue.
Working With Freeze (Gently)
Because freeze is about protection, the work is not to force movement, positivity, or productivity. The work is to restore a sense of safety and choice slowly, steadily and at the body’s (not the mind’s, sorry!) pace. I often think of the scene in “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” when Jason Segel’s character is learning how to surf and his coach repeatedly (and comedically) instructs him to “do less!” much to his confusion. Less is often more when it comes to working with the nervous system!
Some body-based approaches that can support working with freeze include:
Orienting: Gently looking around the room, engaging your senses and landing on anything that feels neutral, pleasant or interesting and letting yourself take it in. This helps us take in the presence or relative safety and absence of threat in our current environment, as well as brining us back to the present moment.
Micro-movements: Very small, non-demanding movements (wiggling toes, shifting weight, pressing feet into the floor) that signal mobility without overwhelm. A gentle walk, gentle yoga, and even just trying those in small increments (15 mins or less).
Temperature shifts: Holding a warm mug, wrapping in a blanket, or briefly splashing cool water on the face— sensory input can help the system recalibrate.
Work with the edges of sensation: Rather than diving into intense body awareness, track what feels neutral or slightly pleasant (warmth of a mug, support of the chair, weight of a blanket). This builds capacity without flooding the system.
“Voo” breath: Voo breath uses a long, voiced exhale (“vooo”) to create vibration in the chest and throat, supporting vagal tone. Deep inhale, “voo” sound out on the exhale. Try x2 to start.
Support completion in very small ways: Freeze often comes from interrupted action. Letting the body finish a movement it wants to make— a stretch, a sigh, a yawn, turning the head can help restore a sense of agency.
External/Co-regulation: Being with a steady, attuned person, animal, or environment that offers safety without expectation. Our pets are some of the best co-regulators!
A key note here: Notice how you feel after. If an intervention feels overly irritating, exhausting, or makes you want to disappear more, it may be too much, too fast.
Part Three: Normalizing Survival and Knowing When You’re Thawing
Freeze is not something to "get rid of." It deserves respect. Many people spent years trying to override freeze with pushing, shaming, or self-criticism which often deepens it. But if criticizing or shaming ourselves worked, it would’ve worked by now!
Normalizing freeze means recognizing:
Your nervous system did the best it could with what it knew
Freeze is a response, not an identity
Thawing is nonlinear and often subtle
Signs of Thaw (Often subtler Than Expected)
Thawing out doesn’t usually look like sudden motivation or energy. I’ve heard it described more like a hair dryer on an ice cube! More often, it looks like:
Feeling slightly more present in your body
A flicker of preference or curiosity
Spontaneous stretching, sighing, or deeper breaths
Moments of emotion (even grief or anger) returning
Increased tolerance for choice or decision-making
Wanting contact, creativity, or rest— rather than collapse
Notice those moments and let yourself really take them in! You may move in and out of freeze many times. This doesn’t mean you’re failing or regressing. It means your nervous system is renegotiating safety.
The goal isn’t to live permanently outside of freeze but to build flexibility, capacity, and trust so freeze no longer has to be the only option.
A Final Note on Nuance
Freeze (just like all responses) deserves compassion, patience, and attunement. What helps one person may overwhelm another. What feels supportive one day may feel like too much the next.
Working with freeze is less about doing the “right” thing and more about listening— to the body, to signals of safety and threat, and to the pace your system is asking for.
Looking for resources to support your nervous system or work with freeze? Check out The Soft Landing Journal, a month long daily somatic practice + prompts journal available in both fillable PDF and hard copy!