Feeling Safe, Inside and Out

In the first journal in this series, I introduced the nervous system as the body’s automatic operating system, constantly working behind the scenes to help us respond to what is happening within and around us.

In this second journal, I want to look more closely at felt safety. Safety does not mean that nothing difficult happens, that we remain calm all the time or that we avoid every challenge. It is something the nervous system senses as well as something we consciously understand. This is why knowing, or being told, that we are safe does not always help us feel safe.

When we do not feel safe

Not feeling safe does not always look like fear. It can be the conversation we replay for hours afterwards in our heads, wondering whether we said too much or got something wrong. It can be agreeing when we wanted to say no, becoming unusually accommodating and pleasing, or noticing what everyone else needs before we have noticed what we need ourselves.

Sometimes it is the moment our mind goes blank when someone asks an unexpected question. The words disappear, even though we knew what we wanted to say only seconds earlier. At other times it is a sense of being constantly alert, unable to settle, waiting for the next demand or problem. We may feel exhausted after spending time with people we genuinely like, or find that ordinary tasks take far more energy than they seem to take for others.

Some people live with a great deal of activation. Others feel flat, detached or unable to begin. These responses can become so familiar that we stop recognising them as signs that the nervous system is working hard. They may simply begin to feel like part of who we are.

Being safe and feeling safe

Our nervous system is constantly gathering information from within the body and from the world around us. It notices tone of voice, facial expression, movement, noise, pain, hunger, tiredness, uncertainty and pace. Much of this happens before we have a chance to think and put anything into words.

It also draws on previous experience to make rapid predictions about what might happen next. A perceived sharp tone may carry an expectation of conflict. Being watched may bring the feeling of threat and that we are about to get something wrong. A crowded room may contain far more sound, movement and information than we can comfortably process.

These predictions are part of the nervous system’s attempt to protect us. Sometimes they fit the present moment well. Sometimes they are shaped by experiences from our past that taught the body to prepare for imminent danger quickly. The response is felt as real, even when the present situation is not as dangerous as expected.

This is why telling ourselves, or being told, to stop being silly or to calm down isn’t helpful. Our thinking mind may understand that we are logically safe, while the body has not yet recognised enough cues of safety to respond in a different way.

Creating the conditions for safety

Our nervous system is continually noticing cues within and around us, often outside conscious awareness. A familiar place, a pet, a steady voice, certain sounds or music, moving water, walking, predictable plans or someone who gives us time to respond may all contribute to feeling safer. Choice matters too: knowing that we can pause, look away, ask a question, move or leave can change how an experience feels. Polyvagal theory uses the term neuroception to describe this detection of cues of safety and threat without conscious thought.

Predictability and familiarity can help when they are manageable and associated with safety. Familiar does not always mean safe; earlier experiences can also make a familiar place, voice or sound feel threatening.

It often helps to think about being safe enough rather than completely safe. Safe enough does not mean pretending that everything is fine. It means that, in this moment, there are enough cues, choices, connections and information for the nervous system to soften some of its defences.

We may not suddenly feel peaceful. The first signs are often much smaller: a little less tension, less clenching in the jaw or fists, a drop in the shoulders, a fuller or more spacious breath, the return of thinking, or a sense that more options are available.

What begins to change

When there is enough safety, we do not become a different person; we can become more available to ourselves and more open to others.

There may be more space to think, experience and be present.

We may notice that we can think during a conversation rather than only afterwards. We may recover more quickly when something unsettles us and find it easier to understand what we need, or to say no without over explaining or over justifying. We may notice hunger before we become weak, tiredness before we reach exhaustion, or irritation before it turns into anger.

When we feel safer, we may have more capacity for curiosity, connection, laughter and interest. We do not have to spend quite so much energy scanning the room, managing how we feel and preparing for what might go wrong.

Feeling safer can also help us recognise what supports us. We begin to notice which places allow our body to settle, which relationships make room for more of us to be present, and which early signals tell us that something is becoming too much.

Safety can help us trust ourselves and others.

Safety inside and out

Finding safety inside ourselves does not mean doing it alone. We are social animals, and connection with even a small number of people can support us. Choice about how, when and with whom we socialise matters. Co-regulation describes what can happen when one nervous system offers steadiness to another, or when safety is offered to us. As many animal lovers already know, this can happen between humans and animals too.

Over time, what was first found outside us can become more recognisable inside. We may develop a greater sense of safety, confidence and trust in ourselves, alongside a growing belief that we can find our way back after something unsettles us.

It is also important not to make safety another personal responsibility or reason to blame ourselves. Some environments and relationships are genuinely unsafe. Poverty, discrimination, poor health, inaccessible services and ongoing stress cannot be regulated away. Our nervous system does not exist separately from the conditions we live in, or are regularly exposed to.

Safety inside and safety outside belong together.

Feeling safer does not remove life’s difficulties, and it does not erase the unfairness some of us carry. What it can offer is more room: room to think before reacting, to notice what we need, to recover a little faster, and to reach towards connection instead of away from it. That is not everything. But it may be enough to start from.

My final Journal concludes with Nervous System Regulation.

Image courtesy of Bakutroo from Unsplash.