You might know the feeling – your jaw tightens, your chest feels hot, and words spill out faster than you intended. Later, you replay it all in your mind and wonder why you reacted that way.
For many people, these moments aren’t just about losing your temper. They’re your body’s way of saying: I don’t feel safe.
It’s not about being angry or overreacting, but about how your nervous system learned to protect you.
You may be familiar with the phrase ‘fight or flight’. These two responses are often spoken about together, yet they can feel very different in the body and play out in distinct ways in daily life. I’ve chosen to focus on the fight response separately because it’s often misunderstood. It can be seen only as anger or aggression when in fact it’s a deeply protective reaction rooted in fear and survival. In future posts, I’ll explore the other common trauma responses – flight, freeze, and fawn – and how each reflects a unique way our bodies and minds try to stay safe.
What The Fight Response Is
The fight response is one of the body’s automatic survival strategies, part of our hardwired ‘fight, flight, freeze, or fawn‘ system. It activates when the brain senses danger and prepares the body to protect itself.
When the sympathetic branch of your autonomic nervous system switches on, it releases stress hormones such as adrenaline and cortisol. Your heart rate increases, your muscles tense, and blood flow shifts toward your limbs. This is all designed to help you act quickly.
According to Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory, our nervous system is constantly scanning for cues of safety or danger. This is a process he calls “neuroception.”¹ When your body senses threat, even unconsciously, it mobilises you into action. The fight state is one form of this defensive mobilisation – your system gearing up to face whatever feels unsafe or unjust.
From an evolutionary perspective, this state was vital for survival. In modern life, however, the same physiological response can be triggered not just by physical threats but by emotional ones such as criticism, rejection, or injustice.
You might feel a surge of energy, a rush of adrenaline, or a sharp focus on whatever feels dangerous or unfair. This can look like anger, frustration, defensiveness, or an urge to take control.
Everyday Signs of the Fight Response
The fight response doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it’s subtle – a raised voice, a clenched jaw, a need to win the conversation. It might show up as irritation at work, impatience in traffic, or agitation when you feel ignored or misunderstood.
You might notice it most when you feel cornered or criticised. Perhaps your first instinct is to argue your point or to stand your ground more firmly than you meant to.
Sometimes these responses can be out of our conscious awareness. Next time you notice yourself feeling irritated or defensive, why not reflect on what your body might be protecting you from? These moments might not look like anger from the outside, but they often carry the same survival energy underneath.
The Protective Role of Anger
Anger is often misunderstood, especially for people who have lived through prolonged stress or trauma. But anger has a purpose. It’s a signal that something feels unfair, unsafe, or out of control.
As psychiatrist and trauma researcher Judith Herman writes in Trauma and Recovery (1992)2 , trauma responses are not signs of weakness, but “ordinary human adaptations to extraordinary circumstances.” Her work reminds us that even the reactions we find hardest to understand – like anger or defensiveness – often began as ways to stay safe in overwhelming situations.
In the face of danger, the fight response helped our ancestors survive. It helped them defend themselves, their families, and their boundaries.
Modern Triggers and Meaning
In our modern world, most of us aren’t fighting off physical danger. Yet our nervous system can’t always tell the difference between a real threat and a perceived one. A sharp comment from a colleague, a partner’s withdrawal, or even an unanswered text can stir up the same protective wiring.
These moments aren’t about weakness. They’re your body’s memory of what danger used to feel like, responding as if it’s happening again.
Research from the Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) study, one of the largest investigations into how early life adversity affects health and behaviour, found that children who experience multiple forms of abuse, neglect, or household dysfunction are more likely to struggle with aggression later in life. The likelihood increases as the number of ACEs rises, highlighting how early environments shape the nervous system’s sense of threat and safety.3
Understanding this link helps us see anger not as “bad”, but as a learned form of protection that once made sense. It’s a response rooted in survival – a body trying to say, I matter. I deserve to be safe.
When the Fight Response Becomes Difficult
Sometimes, the fight response doesn’t switch off when the danger has passed. You might live in a state of tension, constantly scanning for criticism or threat. Small frustrations start to feel overwhelming, and relationships can become strained.
Others might see you as defensive or controlling but underneath, there’s often fear of being hurt, rejected, or powerless.
Over time, being stuck in the fight response can lead to serious physical and mental health issues. When our stress response stays “on”, it can affect sleep, digestion, blood pressure, and immunity. This is the body’s way of signalling that it needs rest and repair.
Learning to Channel the Fight Response
In counselling, we don’t aim to get rid of anger. Instead, we explore what it’s protecting and how to channel that energy in ways that serve you rather than harm you.
Healthy anger can become assertiveness by developing the ability to speak your truth without attacking or withdrawing.
It can also be channelled into boundary setting. By learning to recognise when something doesn’t feel right, you can choose to put in place a boundary to protect yourself.
I often notice that the fight response can be a mask for more vulnerable emotions – fear, sadness, or shame. The physical manifestation is often the opposite of what someone is actually feeling. The anger becomes a shield, a way of saying, “I can’t let you see how much this hurts.”
It’s a powerful shift when someone uncovers what sits behind their anger and learns they don’t have to fight to be heard. Instead, they can simply state their needs with confidence.
Body-based therapies, such as somatic experiencing or mindfulness-based approaches, can help people notice early signs of activation – like a tight chest or clenched hands – and learn ways to calm the nervous system before anger takes over.
Moving Toward Safety
Healing the fight response doesn’t mean losing your strength – it means finding new ways to use it.
As your nervous system begins to trust that you’re safe, the need to defend yourself so fiercely starts to soften.
You might still feel the rise of heat or frustration, but you have tools to pause, breathe, and choose how to respond.
Your anger doesn’t define you. It’s simply a sign that, at some point, your body learned that fighting was the safest way to survive. With time, your body learns that safety doesn’t require a battle – it can also come from stillness, connection, and trust.
1 Porges, S. W. (2011). The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological Foundations of Emotions, Attachment, Communication, and Self-Regulation. W. W. Norton & Company.
2 Herman, J. L. (1992). Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence — From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror. Basic Books.
3 Felitti, V. J., Anda, R. F., Nordenberg, D., et al. (1998). Relationship of childhood abuse and household dysfunction to many of the leading causes of death in adults: The Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) Study. American Journal of Preventive Medicine, 14(4), 245–258. https://doi.org.uk/10.1016/s0749-3797(98)00017-8
