If intimacy is a kind of ongoing conversation — a back-and-forth of presence, touch, emotion, and meaning — then safety is the language that conversation is spoken in. Without a felt sense of safety, connection doesn’t deepen; it defends. Even the most loving partnerships or friendships can start to feel strained when one or both people’s nervous systems no longer feel “safe and sound.”
In therapy, I often see how people try to communicate and connect while their nervous systems are in very different states. One person is calm and curious, trying to bridge the gap, while the other is tense, shut down, or defensive. On the surface, it looks like miscommunication. Underneath, it’s a body that doesn’t feel safe enough to stay open.
The Science Behind Safety
The term Safe and Sound Social Engagement comes from Dr. Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory, which helps us understand how our nervous system influences the way we connect with others.
In simple terms, our nervous system has three main settings:
1. Social Engagement (safe and connected) – When we feel safe, our facial muscles soften, our voice is warm, our heart rate is steady, and we can listen and empathize.
2. Mobilization (fight or flight) – When we sense threat, we become defensive, angry, or anxious. Our focus narrows to survival, not connection.
3. Immobilization (shutdown or freeze) – When the threat feels too big or too persistent, we go numb, withdraw, or dissociate.
The “safe and sound” state is what allows us to engage socially — to be with someone instead of protect ourselves from them. It’s the foundation of intimacy, trust, and repair.
Safety Isn’t an Idea — It’s a Feeling
Here’s something important I often share with clients:
Feeling safe isn’t the same as being safe.
Our bodies don’t respond to logic; they respond to signals. You might know your partner loves you, but if their tone is sharp, their eyes look away, or they move too close when you’re not ready, your body still perceives threat.
Likewise, someone might feel “safe” to you not because they’re perfect, but because their nervous system feels regulated. They speak gently. They pause to listen. They don’t rush to fix you. Your body recognizes these cues and says, Ah, I can rest here.
So much of therapy — and of healthy relating — is about tuning into these cues and learning how to send and receive safety on purpose.
Sending Cues of Safety
Safety is communicated through micro-signals: facial expressions, tone, breath, gestures. It’s not what we say as much as how we are. Here are some examples I often work on with clients:
Facial expression: A soft, expressive face (not flat or tense) signals approachability.
Eye contact: Gentle, not fixed. The ability to look and look away comfortably.
Tone of voice: Warm, melodic tones calm the nervous system. Harsh or monotone speech can activate threat.
Pace: Slowing down your speech and body movements creates room for connection.
Breath: A steady, easy breath — not shallow or held — helps others co-regulate with you.
These cues invite others’ nervous systems to come out of defense. You’re saying, I’m not here to fight or flee; I’m here to connect.
Receiving Cues of Safety
Equally important is our capacity to receive safety — which can be surprisingly difficult if we’ve learned to live on alert. For people who grew up in unpredictable environments or relationships, safety can actually feel unfamiliar.
If you notice yourself pulling away when someone offers kindness, or feeling uneasy when things are calm, it might be that your body hasn’t yet learned what safe connection feels like. In therapy, we work gently with this — noticing the impulse to retreat, breathing through it, and slowly teaching the body that not every calm moment hides danger.
Healing doesn’t mean eliminating fear. It means building enough trust in ourselves and others to stay present even when vulnerability arises.
Safe Engagement in Relationships
In close relationships, we constantly move in and out of safety. That’s normal. The goal isn’t to stay regulated all the time — it’s to repair quickly when we’ve lost that sense of connection.
Here’s what that might look like in real life:
You notice you’re shutting down: Instead of pretending you’re fine, you say, “I think I need a minute to get back to myself.”
You see your partner withdrawing: Instead of chasing them, you soften your tone and let them know, “I’m here when you’re ready.”
After conflict: You revisit the moment once both nervous systems are calm. “I know we both got reactive. I still want to understand you.”
These are small but powerful ways to reestablish the safe and sound state that allows real dialogue to resume.
Somatic Awareness: Listening to the Body’s Story
One of the most transformative parts of this work is bringing the body into the conversation. The body holds the story of safety and threat more honestly than the mind does.
When I ask clients, “Where do you feel that in your body?” I’m inviting them to notice the embodied experience of connection or defense. Maybe it’s a tight chest when conflict arises, or a deep exhale when someone finally listens.
This kind of awareness builds self-trust. You learn to recognize when you’re drifting away from yourself and how to come back — not through thought, but through sensation.
Over time, this becomes second nature. You start to notice the early signs of activation: clenched jaw, quick breath, racing thoughts. And instead of pushing through, you pause. You self-regulate. You return to safe engagement.
Practicing Safe and Sound Living
You don’t need to be in a therapy room to practice this. Here are a few ways to build that state of safety in your daily life:
Pause before responding. Give your nervous system a moment to settle.
Use gentle self-touch. A hand on the chest or cheek can cue the body toward calm.
Engage your senses. Notice the sounds, colors, and textures around you to ground yourself.
Seek safe people. Surround yourself with those who speak softly, listen well, and don’t require you to perform calmness.
Co-regulate. Let yourself be soothed by connection — a walk with a friend, laughter, eye contact, shared silence.
Safety, like intimacy, is not a one-time achievement. It’s something we practice — breath by breath, moment by moment — with ourselves and others.
Final Reflection
When we feel safe, we can love more honestly. We can listen without defending, share without rehearsing, and stay curious instead of reactive. The “safe and sound” state isn’t just the foundation of communication; it’s the heart of human connection.
And just like intimacy, it begins with presence — the willingness to be here, with ourselves and each other, fully.