When Hope Fades: Understanding Learned Helplessness in Women’s Lives

When I look back on my experience of burnout, one of the most profound parts of that experience was the sense that no matter what or how much I did, nothing seemed to make any difference. 

My efforts felt futile.

I was expanding every ounce of energy I had, and yet it felt like pushing against an immovable wall. 

Most of the time, I felt like I was drowning.

For a long time, I gave increasingly more, believing that eventually, things would shift.

But over time, the ‘fight’ energy that initially mobilised me into action started to dwindle, and slowly I fell into what psychologists call ‘learned helplessness’. A subtle erosion of hope, an insidious and devastating settling in my heart that said: “What’s the point anyway?”.

Having spent years since, diving into somatics and the nervous system, I now know that it was my body collapsing into a dorsal vagal state, and saying: “I can’t keep pushing, I have no energy left. This is hopeless. We need to pull back.” A last ditch attempt at preserving energy by putting the brakes on, on my behalf. Wisely forcing me to pause, rest and reorient.

I know I’m not alone. 

It often comes up in my work with women, and in the workshops I deliver within organisations. 

What Learned Helplessness Really Is

Learned helplessness begins to take root when we have faced the same stresses or challenges again and again, and nothing we do seems to shift the outcome. Over time, it leaves us feeling as if we have little real power to change anything at all.

At first, our bodies rally. We fight, we push, we try to be heard. But when effort after effort seems to be ignored, our nervous system does what it knows best to protect us: it shuts down. 

We carry on, but a little more disconnected each time.

It often feels deeply personal, but it isn’t a personal failing. It’s the intelligent imprint of living inside systems that have ignored, dismissed, or even silenced women for centuries.

And when all our attempts appear to be in vain, our system shifts. 

Our body decides: Nothing I do will make a difference, I might as well give up and preserve my energy. We get into a dorsal vagal state of withdrawal, numbing, heaviness … and ultimately hopelessness.

In their book Burnout, Emily and Amelia Nagoski share: 

“ Animals and humans who repeatedly find themselves in bad situations from which they can’t escape may no longer try to escape even when given the opportunity. It’s not a rational choice, their central nervous system has learned that nothing they can do will make a difference. They have learned they are helpless. Their only available route for self-preservation is not to try.”

As disheartening as it is, what’s really important to understand is that this is a deeply protective intelligence at play. As we run out of capacity, it’s as if a caring friend was nudging us to pull back, take a breath, and resource ourselves.

What learned helplessness might feel like:

• The heaviness and sheer exhaustion of trying, trying, trying but constantly hitting a wall

• An increasingly strong sense of detachment and emptiness

• Functioning and going through the motions without really being there

• A feeling of slipping away within ourselves, and feeling helpless

• The loneliness that comes from beginning to believe that if our actions don’t matter, perhaps we don’t matter either.

How It Shows Up in Women’s Lives

While anyone can experience learned helplessness, women live inside systems that make this imprint heartbreakingly common. 

Here are a few places within women’s lives where this experience is most present:

• Work & leadership
  When pay gaps persist, voices go unheard, and ‘side of desk’ responsibilities consistently go unrecognised, many women learn that asking for more is unlikely to lead to change. So we resolve to stop asking.
  

• Healthcare
  From endometriosis to perimenopause, women’s pain is often minimised or dismissed. Brushed aside as being ‘in our head’. Over time, it’s no wonder that we might stop advocating for ourselves. It doesn’t mean that we have stopped caring, it only shows that we have stopped hoping to be heard, and validated in our experiences.
  

• Motherhood & caregiving
  The invisible labour of carrying our families and households, often without recognition and with little support can leave us feeling taken for granted and underappreciated. A narrative that has us believe that “that’s just how it is”... a by-product of being a woman … and eventually, our body does believe it. We keep going past exhaustion, beyond our capacity, because asking for support feels pointless and almost as exhausting as doing it alone.
  
  

This goes beyond isolated personal stories. 

These are systemic and collective experiences. A ‘dorsal inheritance’ that is passed through generations of women who have been pushing against immovable walls, and may have been silenced, dismissed, and unheard.

But there is a path forward …

The Path of Remembering

Reclaiming ourselves begins gently, in ways that our body can trust.

Somatic work offers a pathway. It helps us to slowly remember (not just with the mind, but as a felt-sense within our body), that we do have choice, a voice, and agency.

I often hear women ask, “Why do WE have to do this inner work? Why is the onus on us, again? It’s not fair.”

And they are right. 

It isn’t fair.

We should not have to heal in order to function within systems that harm us. 

We should not have to process inequity to find ease and agency.

And yet, here we are.

Somatic work does not excuse the systems. It does not let them off the hook.
But it offers a path to reclaim the energy, the voice, and the agency that those very systems have slowly stripped away.

We do this inner work not because it’s fair, but because without it, we stay collapsed, and collapsed women cannot reshape the world.

Here are a few initial first steps towards reclamation - and when it comes to this work, slow and small is best, to invite the body into trust again: 

• Tender presence: Rather than judging ourselves for feeling flat or stuck, simply placing a hand over our heart or abdomen and whispering inwardly: I’m here with you. I see you. It’s no wonder you feel this way.” This presence begins to subtly repair the rupture of abandonment.
  

• Breath as companionship: Notice one breath. Let its tidal wave move through you like a compassionate inner stroke. Then invite the next one to soften on the exhale. Take a few breaths in this way. It’s a very gentle reminder that life is still moving through you, even if it feels like you have little energy.
  

• Small, sovereign choices: Offer yourself small choices each day that feel nourishing. It can be as simple as which clothes feel softest and warmest on your skin on a cold day, whether to step outside to take a breath of fresh air, or how to start the day to feel most supported. Tiny choices help rebuild the felt-sense of agency.
  

• Finding spaces (when the time feels right), where our voices can be heard and our experiences validated: I’m a huge fan of women circles - they offer us a space to bravely share our experiences, to be welcomed as we are, witnessed with heart and compassion, seen and held. Spaces that favour depth, truth, care and authentic connection.
  

• Seeking a guide to help us unwind the somatic imprints we carry, and open space for new ways of being: the courage to use our voice in challenging moments, the ability to fluidly navigate our inner state to return to a place of sovereignty and choice, the capacity to recognise what a yes and a no feel like in our body, to set boundaries and protect what matters most, to remember that WE matter, too…
  
  

These steps may be small, but they are not insignificant. 

Think of them as being small threads back to possibility. Each one is your body beginning to remember and trust that change is safe, and that regaining agency is possible.

Reclaiming Ourselves and Becoming The Change

Over time, these gentle practices create space to:

• Restore your energy so your system no longer collapses at the first sign of stress

• Reclaim your voice in safe and brave spaces

• Reigniting your sense of agency so life feels shaped by you, not against you
  

It’s not a quick fix, it’s a slow homecoming.

A gentle path towards remembering that you matter, that your experiences are valid, that your desires have a place, and that your presence has power.

And when women reclaim this together - in circles, in community, in spaces where resonance, attunement and slowness are valued - our personal experiences fuel collective change. This is the heartbeat of my work and something I feel incredibly passionate about.

We don’t just unlearn helplessness; we regenerate hope.

And who knows what might become possible… what movements, what revolutions… when our bodies trust in possibility again.

How Can I Support You?

This has been my own journey, from collapse and hopelessness into slowly remembering my voice, my energy, and my sense of agency. This is why I now hold this work with such devotion: because I know what it’s like to lose hope, and I have journeyed personally towards deep restoration and regeneration. 

If you feel called to reclaim yourself in this way, there are two paths I offer: through 1:1 somatic coaching and through The Wisdom Within™ Practitioner Training, a professional training for women who desire to reclaim their own power and to ripple this tender but hugely potent work into the world.

If you enjoyed this article, you might also be interested in:

Recovering From Burnout: A Somatic Approach To Healing And Flourishing Again

The Invisible Giver: Why Emotional Exhaustion Comes from More Than Just Doing Too Much

Restoring Inner Stability, Rhythm & Belonging : How Reconnecting With Nature Heals & Grounds Us

Understanding the Mind–Body Connection and How to Shift Old Patterns by Working Somatically