Red Flags & Butterflies: Understanding Fight, Flight, Freeze, and Fawn

By Harmony Dust

When all you know is fight or flight, red flags and butterflies all feel the same. ~ Cindy Cherie.

For much of my life, I didn’t know the difference between red flags and butterflies. I thought they were the same thing. My stomach would drop, my heart and mind would race, my skin would tingle—and I assumed it meant I was falling in love. The more the relationship cycled through highs and plummeting lows, the stronger these sensations became.

I mistook red flags for butterflies. Intensity for intimacy.

All along, it was my body trying to protect me. Again.

When you’ve survived trauma—especially the kind that was ongoing, manipulative, or disguised as love—your nervous system becomes exquisitely tuned for survival. Your body remembers things your mind might not. It can sound the alarm long before you consciously notice the signs. And sometimes, the very things that feel familiar—intensity, unpredictability, walking on eggshells—can feel like home, even if that home was unsafe.

I find it important to remind myself that…

Just because they are familiar doesn’t mean they are safe.

So, how do we know whether we are falling into familiar patterns or falling in love? To answer that question, firs,t it is important to understand our bodies’ built-in protective responses.

The Language of Survival: Fight, Flight, Freeze, and Fawn

These four trauma responses are built into all of us. They’re not signs of weakness. They’re signs of wisdom. Our bodies are doing their best to keep us alive and safe.

• Fight: You stand your ground. You raise your voice. You feel a rush of energy. Your body is ready to defend.

• Flight: You need to get out—of the room, the conversation, the relationship. You may pace, fidget, or escape into busyness.

• Freeze: You go numb. You feel stuck. Your mind might blank, or your body might feel disconnected.

• Fawn: You people-please. You agree, submit, smooth things over—even if it hurts. You prioritize safety over authenticity.

Writing these descriptions, I am reminded of times I have prioritized safety over authenticity. I am grieved to think of the version of myself that avoided confrontation at my own expense. That consistently put the wants, needs, and feelings of others above my own. These memories bring up feelings of sorrow and regret. Once again, I find it necessary to compassionately remind myself that for a majority of my life “fawning” is how I survived.

As you are reading through the trauma response descriptions, you may have memories and realizations come to mind. I encourage you to meet these thoughts with compassion, remembering that your body has helped you survive.

Take an in-depth look at the 4 Trauma Responses below.

Learn more Now

So… What About Red Flags and Butterflies?

This is where it can get tricky.

Both red flags and butterflies can show up as sensations in the body—tightness in the chest, a flutter in the stomach, a racing heart, and thoughts. But these signals can mean very different things. A red flag is a warning. A butterfly is an invitation.

Red Flags often come from the past. They’re your body whispering, “We’ve seen this before and it didn’t turn out well.”

Red Flags can feel like:

• A sense of unexplainable dread

• Walking on eggshells- overthinking your words and actions

• A pressure to get too close and too intense- that things are escalating too fast, too soon

• A need to rationalize/minimize unsafe behaviors/actions

• Drained, dysregulated, and questioning ourselves

Butterflies are a sign of something new, exciting, and slightly vulnerable. When our nervous system is in a state of calm, ultimately, we feel safe and social.

Butterflies can feel like:

• Slightly nervous energy paired with curiosity

• A desire/openness to lean in, explore, or grow

• Feeling seen (and validated), even when it’s scary

• Hope that doesn’t come with panic

But here’s the hard truth: trauma can blur the lines.

If chaos felt like love, stability might feel boring.

If control felt like safety, respect might feel unfamiliar.

If people-pleasing kept you safe, boundaries might feel like danger.

If vulnerability was dangerous, anger, avoidance, shut-down or people-pleasing might feel safe.

How Do We Tell the Difference?

We slow down. We listen without judgment. We get curious.

• Does this sensation expand me or shrink me?

• Does this make me feel open and curious or fearful and hesitant?

• If I pause, does the feeling settle—or escalate?

• After I am with this person, do I feel more like myself or less?

• Am I confusing intensity for intimacy?

• Do I feel safe to say no, to ask questions, to be my authentic self?

You may not have all the answers right away. Embrace the practice of pausing and reflecting. Often, it is in that quiet place of reflection that we find the answers we are looking for. Sometimes, they come to us right away, sometimes in hindsight. Be patient with yourself.

This is not about perfection. It’s about practice.

And remember,

Your Body Is Not the Enemy. It’s the Messenger.

When I think of all my body has held.. All that it has survived, I am moved with gratitude and compassion.

My body was the one who stayed. The one who held the pain, who whispered “no” even when I said “yes.”

I’d like to close with a gentle message we can communicate to our bodies today. If you are comfortable doing so, I invite you to read this message to your body out loud. You may consider placing your hand over your heart or your belly as you read, if that feels supportive. If there is anything about this practice that feels activating or uncomfortable, listen to that wisdom and give yourself permission to skip this and go about your day, knowing that even in reading up to this point in the blog, you have done something kind for your body today.

Dear Body,

Thank you for all you have held. All you have protected me from. Thank you for tears and laughter and everything in between. Thank you for breath and heartbeats and all of the wisdom you hold. I recognize that you are speaking to me. I will do my best to slow down enough- to pause long enough- to listen to what you have to say.