A mom I once worked with told me about a moment that I’ve never forgotten.

She said, “I was lying on the floor of the mudroom while my daughter screamed in my face. I wasn’t yelling back. I wasn’t comforting her. I wasn’t doing anything. I was just… lying there. Frozen.”

She felt gutted. She’d been doing everything “right”, trying to co-regulate, validate, stay calm. But in that moment, it was like something inside her just…switched off.

If you’re reading this and thinking, oh my god, I’ve been there, please know you’re not the only one. Not even close.

That moment didn’t mean something was wrong with her. It meant her nervous system had hit its max. Full stop.

Let’s talk about what’s actually happening underneath the surface when you hit that kind of wall.

The Freeze Response: It’s Not You, It’s Your Nervous System Doing Its Job

We’ve probably all heard of “fight or flight,” right? But there’s a third stress response that doesn’t get nearly enough airtime: freeze.

Freezing is what happens when your brain and body decide that fighting or running won’t help, and the safest thing to do is shut everything down for a bit. It’s automatic. It’s not something you choose. It’s not a weakness. It’s not some flaw in your wiring.

It’s your nervous system trying to keep you safe.

As parents, it might show up for us like this:

• Going emotionally numb in the middle of your kiddo’s meltdown
• Zoning out or feeling disconnected from what’s happening
• Suddenly feeling like you can’t think or speak
• Sitting down, collapsing, or just spacing out

It can feel confusing. And yes, sometimes it can feel scary. Especially if you’re someone who usually holds it all together.

The reality is, this is what our bodies do when we’ve been “on” for too long, holding space, regulating, showing up…and finally there’s just nothing left in our tank.

A Real-Life Moment of Freeze

The parent who told me about the mudroom moment has two little kids, one of whom has intense emotional outbursts. During one particularly loud and exhausting meltdown, she said she felt herself emotionally check out.

She told me, “I didn’t feel mad. I didn’t even feel sad. It was just this heavy, hollow kind of blank. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I knew I needed to help, but I literally couldn’t.”

What she was describing was nervous system shutdown.

And when we were able to name it for what it was: shutdown…not personal failure, not some sign she wasn’t cut out for this, but a biological overload…this helped her shift. She stopped blaming herself and beating herself up and was able to get curious instead.

So, What Can You Do When This Happens?

If you’ve ever found yourself in a moment like this, or you're afraid it could happen again, here’s what I want you to focus on:

Learning your early warning signs.

Freezing doesn’t usually come out of nowhere. Start paying attention to your cues. Does your body get heavy? Do your thoughts start feeling far away or slow? Do you stop being able to speak clearly?

Ask yourself: What does it feel like in my body right before I start to shut down?

That awareness is a very important, actually crucial first step.

Letting go of the judgment.

It’s so easy to fall into a shame spiral: I froze. I didn’t help. What is wrong with me?

But what happened wasn’t a moral failure. Your nervous system was overwhelmed. It did the only thing it could at that moment.

Try telling yourself this instead: That was more than my system could handle. I’m learning to recognize the signs sooner and take care of myself.

Focus on nervous system care, not doing things perfectly.

As parents, we’ve got to stop aiming for perfection. And start aiming for capacity. The goal is to create a life where your nervous system doesn’t have to operate at full tilt 24/7.

That might mean:

• Making space for real rest, not just zoning out with your phone
• Sprinkling little moments of regulation into your day (a deep breath, a short walk, listening to some vibey songs)
• Talking with your partner or support system about a plan for tag-teaming when you’re nearing the edge
• Saying, “I need a moment,” and stepping away to reset, even if it’s just for two minutes

That’s what building regulation looks like. It’s not fancy and doesn’t have to be anything major. 

But it works.

The Bigger Picture

Freezing during a hard parenting moment doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. It doesn’t mean you failed your child. It means your system got overwhelmed and your body did exactly what it was wired to do when that happens.

One of the biggest shifts I see in parents I work with is when they stop asking, “Why can’t I handle this better?” and start asking, “What do I need to show up the way I want?”

That’s where you start.

You don’t have to power through. 

You don’t have to pretend all is OK. 

Pause.

Ask yourself what you need.
Take care of yourself.

And come back more grounded, more resourced, more able to connect to your kids.

If you want support learning how to take care of yourself in the hard moments and seasons and building a parenting life that doesn’t drain you dry, this is the exact kind of work we do in my coaching program.

You don’t have to figure it out alone.

In your corner,
Dr. Sarah