on the safety within
one reason why i do what i do
As many of you might know, I was a transracial adoptee who grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere, Ontario, Canada. It messes with my identity (mostly my racial identity) and the distorted ways I learned to see my place in the world. But one way it’s impacted me most is in my understanding of psychological safety and how it feels in my body. It’s something I’ll always be sifting through and healing.
You see, I was the only Black girl amongst a sea of white faces, so I grew up to consider safety meaning being amongst whiteness. As I grew older I would intentionally put myself in situations where I was the only Black person there. I would tell myself it felt better that way. It felt safer to me. So, to continually live like that I had to find ways to deny my body’s cry for safety. But rather than interpret my body’s discomfort as a sign for needing support, I learned not to trust my own inner knowing instead.
Even though being one of the only Black girls or melanated people surrounded by whiteness was psychologically unsafe, it was a sense of insecurity I knew intimately. Looking back on it, I don’t think I could acknowledge how disconnected from my Blackness I really was. Noticing that would show me just how much I learned to hate myself for the promises of staying safer amongst whiteness - if I could only change just enough to appease their need for comfort around me.
But the more I started to push aside my body’s distress the further disconnected I became from myself and the less safe I felt. It wasn’t until much later in my life that I had to start interrogating what I felt around safety. Eventually it became clear that my brain would tell me one thing, but my body reacted much differently. I’d find myself tensing up, anxious to find ways to be accepted - even if meant acting out of integrity.
My chest tightening and jaw clenched every time I had to keep my mouth shut yet again about what I didn’t realise was another micro-aggression. I could feel hypervigilance rising and racing through my thoughts anytime I found myself having to see if whiteness was going to snap, bully or criticise me out of nowhere. Ignoring my body’s needs in hopes of the illusion of safety led me to numerous ways to cope like drinking, smoking, drugs, sex or shopping. If I was lucky, I’d simply shut down and not react at all.
It’s taken a lot of self-reflection, talk therapy and somatic work to begin to reconnect my body and mind. I had to admit that I didn’t feel completely safe around whiteness much at all, and in particular, white women. In fact, it’s not a stretch to say that I dealt with racial trauma and complex PTSD because of growing up like this. I was terrified and yet I needed to believe they held the ability to keep me safe in their hands at the same time.
In many ways they do have power over my safety, this is a truth of the society we live in. How in the hell could I have ever believed it possible to be safe in spaces that at a moment’s notice could suddenly erupt and destroy me?! How could I find safety with people who have been conditioned to uphold white supremacy and do so off my back?! But I couldn’t live afraid, avoiding white women for the rest of my life, either.
I spend most of my life looking outwards, expecting someone to change their behavior so I could feel more comfortable, safer, or enough. I hoped that I could convince, manage, or manipulate my way into changing the people around me into making this happen. I spent most of my life looking for my ability to feel safe in places that were never about prioritizing my safety or even giving a shit about it. There had to be a better way to live and I’ve been trying to find that way ever since.
It never occurred to me that safety was something I could cultivate from within me or that it was something I could carry. I never suspected that it was something I could grow and connect to anytime I felt uneasy or went into spaces that threatened to be psychologically unsafe.
In a world where I’ve had so much taken from me, or promised I’d receive on the condition of meeting certain expectations I was never meant to reach, a felt sense of safety was just another thing that I’d never truly possess. I felt at the mercy of the people around me and in many ways, I absolutely was.
But building a practice of cultivating safety in my body is slowly changing that. It’s allowing me to understand myself and what I need. As I listen to my body’s sensations and meet the needs they’re expressing, I trust myself more.
A stronger felt sense of safety has given me more freedom to be myself. I don’t have to put all my energy towards tiptoeing around the volatile nature of whiteness. Instead, I put more of that energy towards me to understand what sustains me, helps me stay grounded and connected.
And what actually helps to bring me back to safety.
I’ve learned to listen closely to my body’s sensations now, noticing when I start to constrict because my boundaries are being crossed or when I’m shutting down because I’ve had enough. I notice when I need to take a breath to pause and reconnect to myself before I respond. I’ve learned what I need to prepare myself for these situations and what I need to recover from them after.
I’ve developed practices to cultivate more space in my body (journaling, somatic focusing, meditation, more aligned relationships and activities that sustain and nurture me). I have my spaces in my life that remind me of what safety is and trusted people who support me in staying accountable to what matters to me and acting in integrity.
My sense of safety is what I tap into when I need reminders of who I am. It brings me back home to myself.
Cultivating a stronger sense of safety in the body was one of the most important aspects for me when creating my upcoming new creation, Keystone An Embodiment Colouring Journal (coming in a few weeks!!). That’s why it makes up the introductory section of the journal.
I wanted us to start inquiring together into what safety feels like in our bodies and how we can continue to build it. I wanted us to recognize how safety acts in our individual bodies. Does it move with ease and flow? Spaciousness and softness? Does it bring with it an inner calm and clarity? I wanted us to know that it was possible to follow the wisdom of the body to not only keep us safer, but to support us in meeting our needs for feeling safer too.
But we won’t really know about our sense of safety until we dip into feeling it.
Your sense of home and safety are never acquired outside ourselves. We always carry them within. Keystone starts us on an embodiment journey of self discovery by learning about what safety feels like, how we can build it, drop into it at any time and find a sense of peace, stillness or groundedness in times of emotional, psychological or spiritual upheaval. We only have to develop the skills to access it first.
My hope is that Keystone, your embodiment colouring journal becomes a space to help you do just that.
I’m almost ready to share my new creative project with you! Keystone is such a special journal. It’s one I wish I had when I was starting on practice to embodiment. Reconnecting the mind and body is imperative for living lives were truly meant for and being the change we wish to see in our lives and communities. I can’t wait to share it with you!
Let me know what practices are helping you cultivate more safety in your body?
🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 SANDRA😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹