I stayed in an abusive relationship for five and a half years, even though I wanted to run for the hills six months in.
I stayed in a teaching career that drained the life out of me faster than a teenage girl drains her phone battery — because I thought walking away meant I was failing.
I silenced myself in my marriage for years. I wanted to ask for what I needed, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words… until it all came crashing out like a tsunami.
That’s what freeze looks like.
It’s not laziness. It’s not indecision. It’s your nervous system doing everything it can to keep you safe — even if it’s keeping you stuck.
Every time I stopped myself, it was because I didn’t fully trust what I felt.
I was afraid of being too much.
Afraid of being wrong.
Afraid of being told I just needed to try harder.
It felt like I had one foot on the brake and one foot on the gas — spinning in circles, burning out, white-knuckling my way through life.