Have you ever had something pressing on your mind—something real, something raw, something you desperately want to talk about—but are hesitant to share? Is it safe? Will they listen? Will they understand? Worse – will they judge?
I’ve been there. For me, the fear isn’t that they’ll argue or disagree; it’s the awkwardness of the polite dismissal, the feeling of being othered for thinking differently, feeling too deeply, or sharing something uncomfortable. Often, the fear wins, and I swallow my words and nod along while keeping my thoughts to myself.
Have you ever experienced that?
Recently I was chatting with a group of friends, the conversation drifting from topic to topic – the casual, easy rhythm of friendly chatter. But I had something deeper on my mind—something real, something worrisome. When invited into the conversation, I cautiously began to share what was weighing on me.
Crickets.
A few slight nods but no eye contact as silence swallowed the energy in the room. The moment passed, and the conversation drifted back to safer ground. I was grateful for the shift in attention. But what I felt lingered—the sting of rejection, the chill of judgement, the loneliness of exclusion, the weight of those unspoken thoughts and worries.
Later, someone in the group remarked, “I avoid discussing that topic…too touchy.” The message was clear—this wasn’t a safe space for real dialogue, just comfortable dialogue. And the lesson was that it’s best to blend in rather than disrupt. But the truth is, blending in never really feels like belonging. Feeling alone in a room full of people is the worst kind of loneliness there is.
Sometimes we just want to know that we’re not alone.
We all crave that feeling of real safety – psychological safety—the belief that you can speak up, take risks, and be yourself without fear of ridicule or judgement. It’s what fuels innovation, deepens relationships, and creates cohesion in communities. But here’s the catch: just because it feels comfortable doesn’t mean it’s safe.
“Psychological safety is broadly defined as a climate in which people are comfortable expressing and being themselves… sharing concerns and mistakes without fear of embarrassment or retribution. Low levels of psychological safety can create a culture of silence. They can also create a Cassandra culture – an environment in which speaking up is belittled and warnings go unheeded.” ― Amy C Edmondson, The Fearless Organization
I’ve been grappling with the idea that what we often think is psychological safety is really conformity. It’s the feeling of being surrounded by people who think like us, agree with us, and won’t challenge us too much. We assume this safety is real because it feels good. And we “belong” as long as we don’t challenge the status quo.
But could it be that in-group safety is just an illusion carefully crafted within the boundaries of our comfort zones—those tight-knit circles where we feel accepted and protected? But as it shields us from discomfort, it also prevents honest, meaningful communication?
Sometimes the reward of being heard is not worth the risk of speaking up.
When we peel back the layers of misconception, it’s more clear what psychological safety is and is not. It is not a lack of conflict or sugar-coated niceties. It’s not even about being comfortable. True psychological safety is the freedom to be real – to project your own single voice even when it doesn’t necessarily harmonize with the chorus.
In-groups thrive on shared norms, unspoken agreements, and a sense of belonging. It feels safe because everyone is “on the same page.” Members of the group are less likely to be challenged. But this kind of safety is fragile—it’s conditional. So, what we call “safety” in in-groups isn’t really about belonging or trust—it’s about fitting in and maintaining cohesion.
It’s more like “belonging with strings.” You’re accepted if you align with the group’s values, behaviors, and unwritten rules. Step out of line, challenge the status quo, or bring up a controversial topic? That safety evaporates quickly.
Do you know what I mean?
Exclusion becomes the foundation. The very nature of in-groups means defining who is “in” and who is “out.” Out-group members often feel the need to code-switch, over-explain, or adjust their behavior just to fit in. That’s the opposite of psychological safety—social survival.
When safety means agreeing rather than questioning, we stop engaging in real dialogue. Instead of projecting our own voice, we sing with the chorus. Instead of evolving, we live in echo chambers governed by groupthink.
Moving through spaces where you don’t feel safe to be yourself means constantly assessing, adjusting, and proving your worth. It’s emotionally exhausting. People in in-groups often don’t see the systemic barriers—they assume the same rules apply to everyone. But they don’t.
True psychological safety isn’t about avoiding difficult conversations—it’s the freedom to have them. If we’re serious about creating safe spaces, we need to move beyond comfort and step into courage – creating space for bold ideas, honest conversations, and sometimes, uncomfortable truths without the fear of social rejection. It means fostering connection across differences, not just reinforcing sameness. And ultimately, it means challenging the illusion of safety.
The next time you feel “safe,” ask yourself:
Am I truly free to be myself, or am I just blending in?
“But the truth is, blending in never really feels like belonging. Feeling alone in a room full of people is the worst kind of loneliness there is.” I winced when I read this; it’s such a powerful statement.
What you’re observing is likely more commonplace today, given the charged political climate. We suck down our honesty and communicate superficially. I have a situation I’m wrestling with that just came up yesterday. Do I tell this person what I’m thinking, or do I let it go? If I let it go, I’m being disingenuous to myself and we exist under the veil of false friendship. If I confront them, whatever friendship was there is likely gone. But then, how worthwhile was the relationship to begin with?
Powerful writing, my friend.
I know how you felt with the crickets, Melissa. It’s been a dilemma for me, too. A dear friend presented a different view that landed well. The ‘crickets’ can be perceived as the ‘white noise’ or ‘shabda’ that holds the entire thoughtmospheres of animal, human and plant/mineral kingdoms. Hearing or perceiving that isn’t a bad thing. We have discomfort with silence in conversations and may feel uncomfortable in initiating further investigation as to the components of the present moment. That’s a level of vulnerablity that challenges all of us. 🙂