The Messy, Beautiful Dance of Feeling Safe Enough to Be Real

Safety and connection have been the foundations of my journey, and looking back at my life, everything happened either when I was feeling safe and connected—or when I absolutely wasn't. And I can honestly say that these themes can be externally or internally driven. Sometimes I'd be sitting in the safest room imaginable, surrounded by people who loved me, and my brain was still convinced I was about to be mauled by a bear. Other times, I was in actual chaos, but something clicked internally and I felt weirdly okay. So much of my experience has lived in that tension.

Safety may sound like something easily defined and self-explanatory, but let's dig a bit deeper—especially for us men. Obviously the basics will provide basic safety. We all need shelter, food, water, love... but before I explore that last one, LOVE, my mother came into my mind saying "you are so lucky, look at the kids in Africa who don't have anything and you are complaining about your food?" How guilty did I feel? Safety for sure doesn't involve guilt, right? Maybe it involves connection, gratitude, presence and peace, but maybe it doesn't? Maybe it doesn't have to be this abstract idea at all. Okay, back to the big one: love.

LOVE! we all need it. Even the toughest ones, the most resilient, the bad ass men who have figured everything out. I don't remember ever feeling safe and not being loved. But I remember being loved and not feeling safe. Love has this weird direction. It's not linear, one directional. It's in and out, up and down, and every direction possible. Love is a state, and before I lose you, think about it for a sec—when that little fluffy bubble of awesomeness we call love is residing in our hearts, everything seems better. Clarity, peace, gratitude flow, and as a result we start to explore what safety might look like beyond the basics.

So how does feeling safe look for me? Reflecting back, it has changed throughout my life. I'll focus on what it means for me today. Safety for myself and safety in my external world. Safety equals self-love. Accepting all the parts of me, the good, the bad, and the ugly. It's this unconditional love for my being, my existence and experiences. It's abundant forgiveness, endless patience. Feeling safe to explore my emotions, beliefs and habits. Safe to define my own boundaries and clarify my values.

Externally, it's a bit harder because sometimes it requires the ability to accept, surrender, or get out of the comfort zone, negotiate, re-establish. It's my relationship with my external world. Where I live. My ability to spend time in nature. Do I feel protected or am I scared to walk down the street? Physical safety. My relationship with my family, my loved ones, my friends, work colleagues. My relationship with my community. You see, this is getting more complex as we expand it. It feels like all these people need to adjust and meet my certain criteria. But the person I want to focus is my partner: the person I've chosen to walk my path of life with. Yes, that person I see first thing in the morning when I wake up next to her. Is she making me feel safe? Or does she create fear and resentment? Am I able to be vulnerable and authentic with her? Can I share everything—my deepest fears, aspirations, needs? How are we setting our boundaries? With love or with conflict? How do we resolve our conflicts? With love or with resentment? This is safety in a relationship. The unapologetic full version of me, today, being heard and valued.

So where does connection fit in all of this? Connection is the link between safety and love. Connection with the self, connection with the natural world, the community, the family, the loved ones. Safety in isolation is fear, is a phobia. Safety in disconnection is suppression. It's inauthentic. It's resentment.

Connection is what makes safety actually mean something. I can build all the walls I want, create the perfect bubble, have every boundary in place but if I'm doing it alone, if I'm disconnected from myself and others, then what am I really protecting? An empty fortress? Connection is the risk we take when we feel safe enough. It's reaching out instead of pulling back. It's saying "this is me" and hoping someone says "I see you."

I've noticed that when I feel safe within myself, connection becomes natural. I'm not performing anymore. I'm not managing how others perceive me or calculating what's safe to share. I'm just... there. Present. And that's when real connection happens, not the surface-level "how's it going" stuff, but the kind where you actually feel less alone in the world. The kind where someone else's experience echoes yours and suddenly you realize you weren't crazy for feeling that way.

Connection is also how we test our safety. It's the feedback loop. When I share something vulnerable with my partner and she responds with curiosity instead of judgment, that builds safety. When my friends show up when I'm struggling, that builds safety. When I'm honest about my limitations at work and people respect them, that builds safety. Each connection is either reinforcing that I'm okay to be myself, or teaching me where I still need to protect myself.

I'm still learning this dance between safety and connection. Some days I nail it—I feel grounded in myself, open with the people I love, present in my life. Other days I'm back in that room with people who love me, convinced a bear is coming. But here's what I know now that I didn't before: safety isn't a destination I arrive at and connection isn't something I either have or don't have. They're practices. They're choices I make every single day. When I choose to accept all parts of myself, when I choose to show up honestly with my partner, when I choose to reach out instead of retreating—I'm building both. And yeah, it's vulnerable as hell. It's uncomfortable. Sometimes it feels easier to just lock the doors and throw away the key. But that empty fortress? I've been there. And I can tell you—it's the loneliest kind of safe. So I keep choosing the mess, the risk, the real connection. Because that's where life actually happens.