My first real WTF moment

Lab Notes on Safety: the science, the stories, and why it matters.

Oct 31, 2025

It was a random Wednesday.

I’d just had a call to talk creative guidelines with our lawyers for an upcoming cryptocurrency project about, yes, dog NFTs.

No actual dogs or NFTs were involved in the making of this image.

Sitting on the floor afterward, Waffle draped upon me in deep pressure therapy, my brain clicked on.

What the actual hell are you doing, Kate? NFTs? Are you motherducking kidding me? Sure, dogs and stories, yes, but what about humans? What about people like you and all the people you lost?

It would take me years to fully understand that moment in my sunlit office with Waffle snoozing on top of me and how it signified the first time I felt truly safe — for it was a fleeting moment — but this thought would come to haunt me the same way my lost time did.

Were those thoughts even real? Were they mine? Or were they another delusion of my own making? And maybe more than that, was I even real at all?

That afternoon was the first time my body and mind fully connected and believed in my safety — and for that very reason, it was the first time I could speak from a place of actual alignment.

Now I see how important that moment and safety is to healing, recovery and self-reclamation. But for years — three decades, in fact, I didn’t think about it. The reason was simple: I didn’t think about safety because I didn’t think much of anything. I just reacted.

Lost in a state of chronic survival mode where my prefrontal cortex was perpetually offline, my mind, body and life had one goal, and one goal alone: to make it through the day and live to see another one.

And, as is often the case with chronic trauma survivors, I didn’t realize that this was how I lived. I didn’t even realize that there was even another way to live. I just thought that everyone around me must be handling the endless reactivity of being a human and its consequences with far more poise, grace and joy.

But that’s just not true.

Most of those people, the ones with the poise, grace and joy, weren’t handling stress better — they were simply safe.

But no matter who you are — whether you’re in a momentary spurt of survival mode, or stuck there for 36 years, like I was — we all have the capacity to rewire our brains to build a life that honors us, instead of our protective survival responses.

So yup, that is why this month I am nerding allll about Safety because it is the first ingredient to self reclamation and actual agency. And more than anything, I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you — where your self is lost and you are constantly adrift in a sea of reactivity and its consequences.

OK, let’s get into Safety — because it’s time for the world to not just happen to you. It’s time for you to happen to the world.

A Lab Notes Reminder…

You deserve to make informed choices about your own healing.

Despite what a lot of experts, authors, and influencers say, nobody has The Answer. Humans heal in thousands of ways, and instead of telling you what to do, we’re drawing a map of all the possible paths you can take in your own healing — your route across this map will be as unique as you are.

Each story, each tool, each practice is an offering. We’re not here to tell you what to do, but to help you sort through the noise and learn what might actually work in your own life. Around here, the only (near) universal truth we’ll name is that growth requires getting uncomfortable, and you can’t do that from a place of danger or shame.

Beyond that, the road is yours.

What is Safety?

Safety means many things to many people and first, let’s celebrate that.

For mutual understanding in this context, we’ll talk about Safety as the nervous system state where your entire brain (your prefrontal cortex included) is online making social connection, optimal learning, and healing, possible.

As we discussed in the our Nervous System exploration, when the brain perceives a threat, its prefrontal cortex goes partly offline and moves into fight, flight, freeze or fawn. Decisions made in this state will be made based on conditioning and past trauma because the body is still mobilized to protect first and foremost rather than to grow and heal.1

Conversely (and duh, Kate, we get it…), when the brain perceives its human is safe, the nervous system then moves into states that support connection, curiosity, growth2 and intention.

So here’s the deal. Without a bedrock of Safety, attempts at any kind of change are likely to fail, and could even retraumatize you. And most importantly for our work here at The Healing Lab, Safety is necessary, so that you’re making decisions about yourself and your life with your prefrontal cortex fully operational, online, and with complete informed consent.

Is exploring Safety a practice that’s right for me?

There really isn’t any huge downside to exploring the concept, but the folks who might most benefit the most from exploring Safety include:

Trauma survivors3 who struggle to feel calm even when danger has passed.
People with chronic stress or anxiety whose bodies default to hyper vigilance.
Neurodivergent folks (people with ADHD, autism, learning disabilities, etc.) who live in social systems that constantly misread or punish their behaviors, so they learn to stay on alert.
People (both children and adults) who didn’t grow up with consistent signals of safety and care, and have, “attachment disruptions,” as a result.
Any person burned out by “hustle culture” or chronic instability who finds it hard to rest, or trust that their needs will be met.

In short, anyone who feels perpetually stuck in survival mode—physically tense, emotionally guarded, or unable to relax—will often find that understanding and cultivating safety is a crucial foundation for healing.

OK, give me a metaphor. How does Safety help healing?

Let’s think about it like this — if healing is our epic quest, then Safety is the base camp where we begin (and return to) as we climb the mountain.

I drew this… today… not when I was 7. 😂 How on earth did I ever think I’d make it as an art major?

And in my colorful mind, I have a purple tent, a blazing bonfire for allll the s’mores and a dragon the size of Kilimanjaro.

You wouldn’t march straight into the dragon’s lair without first establishing a place where you can rest, train, gather supplies, and return to when you’re tired, wounded or just need a g-d break. Every adventurer needs a base camp where their body can warm, their wounds can be tended, and their energy can catch up to the demands of the relentless fight that is recovery and healing.

Without that, we’re just charging headlong into battle after battle unprepared — and more likely to get hurt all over again by another freaking dragon.

So for you? Safety might be the campfire, sturdy boots, or the traveling companions who won’t abandon you. It will look different for everyone, and sure, having these things doesn’t mean the quest won’t still be dangerous, or that you won’t face real challenges. You absolutely will. This is hard AF shit.

Safety just means you have a refuge to return to so you can recover and rise to fight again when the road gets hard. (Yes, WHEN not if. The hard is the only guarantee in all this).

What Does the Science Say on Safety?

In psychology, safety is widely considered the foundation of healing and human development. Stephen Porges’ book, Polyvagal Theory, shows that the autonomic nervous system continually scans for cues of safety or danger. This is what he calls neuroception.

When we perceive our environment to be safe, our bodies shift out of defensive states (fight, flight, fawn, freeze) and into a mode that supports social connection, curiosity, and growth.

This isn’t just “calm” or the absence of something dangerous; it’s an active condition that allows the brain to engage higher-order functions like learning, reflection, and relationship building. It’s how we do our best work, thinking (and healing!) as human beings.

Trauma research reinforces this. Judith Herman, who wrote Trauma and Recovery, emphasized that establishing safety is the first stage of trauma treatment. Without it, deeper therapeutic work can backfire, triggering defensiveness and compounding distress.

More recent approaches (Trauma-Informed CBT, Somatic Experiencing) begin by teaching grounding, self-regulation, and safe connections with others, which allows people to consolidate and integrate new thoughts and patterns.

Safety is also key in attachment theory — which says that children need reliable signals of safety and care from caregivers to build secure attachment patterns, which later scaffold resilience, emotional regulation, and interpersonal trust.4 When safety is inconsistent or absent, children may stay hypervigilant or dissociate—strategies that help them survive but later interfere with their wellbeing in adulthood.

Finally, the science of stress and health shows how important Safety is in shaping long-term outcomes.

If you experience a chronic lack of safety—whether through poverty, violence, discrimination, or unstable environments—the body’s stress response systems are persistently activated, leading to inflammation, impaired immune function, and increased risk of chronic disease.5

In contrast, environments that reliably signal safety buffer the impact of stress, support recovery, and enhance overall well-being.

In short, across multiple disciplines, the literature converges: safety is not optional—it is the foundation on which healing, learning, and health depend.

Where is the Science not settled?

1. Science fails to appreciate what it can’t measure, and it can’t measure your internal feeling of safety.

Most literature agrees that the perception of safety matters more than the actual conditions. But scientists can’t exactly measure an internal feeling — so it’s hard for them to study it. What “feels safe” for one person (being alone in peaceful solitude) may feel unsafe for another (feeling terrified in isolation).

Since research often leans on things scientists can physically measure (heart rate, cortisol levels, etc.,) — which are important and have their place — it’s also critical to fold in lived experience.

In practice, this means to trust yourself and don’t allow the science to invalidate the lived truth you are walking each day (and yes, that is G-D hard in a system build with hierarchies of power and from me and my own self-doubt trenches, I believe wholeheartedly in us both).

2. Finding the balance between “safety” and growth.
OK, so there’s a debate over whether emphasizing safety might inadvertently discourage people from experiencing the kinds of tough situations that could help them grow. (Just look at the “gentle parenting” movement and all the critiques of it.)

Exposure therapy and resilience research would say that some discomfort is essential for healing. Others, caution that pushing too fast into discomfort without enough safety can re-traumatize a person.

I find all these perspectives critical, and it’s why I emphasize over (and over) that everyone walks a different path through this. The balance point, how much safety is “just right,” remains more art than science. What I have come to learn after 11 years of exposure therapy, is that there must be a balance between the two. It’s not about safety VERSUS growth. It’s about safety AND growth.

3. Cultural and systemic blind spots.
Much of the literature on safety comes from Western researchers and individual therapy models. That means “safety” is often framed in terms of personal nervous system regulation or the therapist’s relationship with their patient.

Structural problems like racism, poverty, instability, personal or state violence, cause immense harm and danger, but are downplayed in therapy and most science. As one person wrote on Reddit on a board for Complex PTSD,

“If you’re still living or in contact with an abuser, you don’t have a chance at safety. If you’re a targeted group (BIPoC, LGTBG+, etc) there’s inherent danger that can’t be brushed aside. You might find some safety in certain circumstances, but it’s not a given. If you are in poverty you never have psychological safety. It’s just not possible. There are systemic and cultural deterrents to safety baked in.”6

The bottom line? In our world, structural dangers are real. If you are not Western, white, and well-off, many prescriptions about Safety can feel completely hollow.

Resources like Decolonizing Therapy (or the excellent book by Dr. Jennifer Mullan, Decolonizing Therapy), Mad in America, and The Liberatory Wellness Network offer grounded approaches that tackle this brilliantly and I encourage you to check them out.

4. The “safety paradox.”
Some researchers note that while safety is essential, over-prioritizing it can backfire. Some argue that treating discomfort as “danger” undermines growth, dialogue, and resilience. Yet, others argue that the real issue is failing to distinguish between temporary discomfort and enduring harm. There’s not yet a clear way for practitioners to distinguish between those two poles for each person.

To sum up: the science is clear that Safety is foundational, but it struggles with measurement, balance, context, and boundaries. The research shows that safety matters, but not always how much, for whom, or in what forms.

At the end of the day, at least for me, it all comes down to harnessing safety for growth that is aligned with the life I want to live and acts of service I can do to harness the privileges I am afforded. Or maybe even better put, Safety is the base camp I am always rearranging. It is how I recover, reset and realign on which next path to take for myself and the community I hope to show up for.

Solidarity Stories of Safety

At the Healing Lab, we believe in both peer-reviewed research and lived experience. The body knows. The story matters. The science is real. Healing lives at their intersection. And so, we wanted to hear from real people, in case their descriptions inspire you in your own reflections.

Last week, I asked folks on Instagram for examples of where they feel safe. This is what we heard…

Safety is when I can slow down, unmask and actually live in the present.
Safety is having security for my identity, body, bank account and political and spiritual views.
I like to think of safety as a space or person that allows you to make mistakes to learn & grow. Presence over perfection.
Safety is being me, without fear of judgement.
Safety means have a “go to” to retreat to. Somewhere that will pull you out of your head.
Safety is being able to share my thoughts and feelings with someone, without fear of judgement.
Safety is when I can find home within myself.
Safety means basic needs are met. Food. Water. Shelter. Maslow’s hierarchy.
Safety is an environment/people who are there for all parts of me.
Safety means security; the ability to breathe without a weight on my chest, a safe place to live and a financial safety net
Safety is clear, direct information, and communication where there is space for listening.
Safety is knowing I can always go home and be warm with a shower, heat and clothing.
Safety is being with my people, around them, I know I’m always safe.
Safety is freedom of expression.
Safety is a lock on my door.
Safety is skin-to-skin contact, not in any sexual way but as a nod to me as a younger child who was never held.
Safety is being able to sleep without fear of who is around and what might happen.
Safety is being able to live in the country I immigrated to without fear of deportation.
Safety is being accepted for all of the messiest parts of me.
Safety is peace of mind.
Safety is knowing I have a person who can wrap me in his arms and the world goes away.
Safety is the ability to ground into myself through discomfort, a place where emotions can be noticed.

Footnotes

Herman, Trauma and Recovery, 1992; Siegel, The Developing Mind, 2012

Porges, Polyvagal Theory, 2011

Herman, Trauma and Recovery.

Bowlby, 1988; Siegel, 2012

McEwen, 1998; Shonkoff et al., 2012

https://www.reddit.com/r/CPTSD/comments/takeii/comment/i01stv0/

rose

Thank you, Kate, as always for the kindness and thoroughness here. What an important topic. And thanks too for the community challenge - really helpful for me (with lots of privilege) to have something actionable to do for our fellow humans 💜

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1 reply by Kate Speer