I have been harping on safety for the past couple weeks with my friends.
Safety has been on my mind because I feel we have a tendency to overlook just how far-reaching and hidden this problem is. So much so, that even this discussion of safety likely dredges up imagery of instances where physical safety is on the line for you.
In a world where violence is so commonplace, I fear we have grown far too comfortable with our proximity to unsafe environments, people, and thoughts. I reckon this kind of safety concern is more pervasive, harder to pinpoint, and intrinsically tied to the liberation we all deserve to feel on an interpersonal-level.
Harmful things exist all around us. The problem is that they come disguised with different names and faces than what we commonly associate violence with. It can be the content we find ourselves exposed to and continue to object ourselves to. It can be slight comments made by a family member or coworker. It can be that one intrusive thought that circles the drain of your mind before you shut your eyes each night. Lack of safety is something we have grown so accustomed to, and to no fault of our own.
We cannot acknowledge that harm is being done, that we’re actively engaging in our own subjugation, because we live in a world where we have been programmed to do just that. We grow up in cultures that attach our worth to how well we can stomach being mistreated. Capitalism rewards our emotional labor and silences our concerns that there might be something seriously flawed in the way we treat each other; “it’s not that bad, I just need to make it through the next week.”
It’s all fun and games until you look up to find you’ve created a war zone for yourself, while your enemy might just be completely unaware of the war they have waged upon you. We can reclaim something, a piece of our safety by naming and calling out its absence at times we don’t feel safe. Unburden your spirit, and let people know what their actions mean to you. Think about encounters with friends or family that have made you uncomfortable, troubled you, or left you feeling powerless. What if we began to conceptialize these interactions as unsafe? Think on a micro scale, in the little moments when you would usually decide to keep it pushing. Instead, stop and center yourself for once. Tell yourself, through your words and actions, that you matter.
You deserve to be safe.
You deserve to know what prioritizing your safety feels like because then you can be even more sure of when your safety is being threatened. Too many of us sit with our burdens, suffering and subconsciously telling ourselves that we must endure. I’m wondering now, for what exactly? How has being palatable truly served any of us in the long-run? I look back and all of my most proud moments have been when I stood up for myself and others. My happiest days have been spent feeling safe in the company of people that see me and love me and protect me. Those same people have been receptive to the concerns I have voiced to them, and I theirs.
Why have we been told to settle for anything less than that?