Behind the Veil: A Somatic Reflection on Functional Freeze
Today the weather is not bad.
It’s not stormy. Not dramatic.
The sky is light, the air is mild.
And yet everything feels slightly muted — as if a thin veil is hanging between me and the world. The colors are there, but less vivid. The sounds are softer. The day moves, but somehow without texture.
There was a time in my life when my inner world felt like this rather often.
Nothing was visibly wrong. I was working, I was meeting with people, I was moving my body. On paper, everything was functioning.
And yet internally, I felt slightly behind myself.
Participating in my life — but not fully inside it.
Not depressed.
Not in visible crisis or burnout in dramatic sense.
Just… muted. Surviving efficiently.
Back then, I didn’t have the language for it.
Today, I rarely experience this state. And when I do, I recognize it much sooner. I understand what my body is doing and why.
In the language of the nervous system, this state has a name: functional freeze.
What Is Functional Freeze?
In nervous system language, functional freeze is a state where your system is simultaneously mobilized and shut down.
There is underlying stress activation (fight/flight energy),
but layered with a dorsal vagal “freeze” response.
You keep functioning.
But it costs you.
Many women describe it as:
“I’m doing everything but I don’t feel present.”
“I’m exhausted but wired.”
“I don’t feel depressed… just not fully alive.”
“I can’t access joy the way I used to.”
Recently I listened to a podcast episode that beautifully described this state as the body’s intelligent compromise: if it’s not safe to fully collapse and not safe to fully express stress, we freeze — but keep going.
And for highly sensitive women, this pattern can become chronic.
Why Highly Sensitive Women Are More Prone
Highly sensitive women tend to:
Feel more.
Notice more.
Care more.
Absorb more from their environment.
In environments that are fast-paced, unpredictable, emotionally intense, or subtly unsafe — sensitivity can become overwhelming.
So the nervous system adapts.
Instead of constant anxiety (too much activation), it dampens.
Instead of crying all the time (too vulnerable), it numbs.
Instead of saying “this is too much,” it copes quietly.
Over time, this becomes your baseline.
You look capable.
Inside, you feel distant from yourself.
A Subtle Context: Living in Israel as a Sensitive Woman
From my personal perspective — as someone living in Israel — I notice that many women here (especially those not born into this intensity) carry a specific layer of functional freeze.
There is:
A collective nervous system that runs on alertness.
Cultural directness and speed.
Periodic uncertainty that becomes “normal.”
For sensitive women, especially those who grew up in softer or slower cultures, the adaptation can look like strength.
But sometimes that strength is actually freeze.
You become hyper-capable.
Independent.
Resilient.
And quietly disconnected from your softness.
This isn’t weakness.
It’s adaptation.
But adaptation has a cost.
The Invisible Cost of Functional Freeze
Functional freeze often shows up as:
Chronic fatigue with normal lab results
Feeling disconnected from pleasure or desire
Brain fog
Procrastination that feels heavy rather than rebellious
Low-grade anxiety under the surface
Difficulty accessing tears or anger
A sense of “life is happening but I’m not fully in it”
The tragedy is that because you are functioning, no one sees it.
And you may invalidate yourself too:
“I’m fine. Others have it worse.”
But your nervous system still deserves care.
Working with Functional Freeze: A Somatic Approach
The key is not pushing yourself harder.
Freeze does not respond well to force.
It responds to:
Safety
Slowness
Gentle mobilization
Relational support
Here are some trauma-sensitive somatic directions that can help:
1. Micro-Movements Instead of Big Changes
When frozen, big goals feel overwhelming.
Try:
Slow shoulder rolls
Pressing your feet gently into the ground
Rocking side to side while standing
Humming softly
Small rhythmic movements help thaw freeze safely.
2. Track 5% More Sensation
Freeze dulls sensation.
Instead of trying to feel everything, ask:
“What feels 5% more alive right now?”
Maybe warmth in your hands.
Maybe your breath moving your ribs.
Tiny awareness builds capacity.
3. Orienting to Safety
Especially in high-alert environments.
Slowly look around the room.
Let your eyes land on:
A color you like
Something stable
Something beautiful
Tell your body:
“In this moment, I am safe enough.”
4. Complete Micro Stress Cycles
If your body is holding unfinished activation, try:
Pushing your palms against a wall for 10 seconds
Gently stomping your feet
Making a quiet “no” with your head
Let the body express what it didn’t get to express.
5. Reconnect with Safe Softness
Functional freeze often protects your tenderness.
You are invited to ask: Where do I allow myself to be soft?
With a friend?
In nature?
In movement?
Softness is not regression.
It is regulation.
You Are Not Broken
Functional freeze is not a personality flaw.
It is a brilliant survival strategy.
But survival is not the same as living.
If you recognize yourself here, know this:
Your body is not working against you.
It is protecting you the best way it knows how.
And gently, patiently, we can teach it that more aliveness is safe.
Gentle Closing Invitation
In my trauma-informed somatic sessions (in Tel Aviv and online), I often support highly sensitive women who feel “fine” on the outside and quietly disconnected on the inside.
We don’t force breakthroughs.
We build safety.
We restore capacity.
We reclaim aliveness slowly.
Because you deserve more than functioning.
You deserve to feel here.
