Felt Safety: Understanding and Cultivating True Security

When we think about safety, many of us imagine locked doors, sturdy neighborhoods, or a well-stocked pantry. We think about external markers of security, things that seem to signal, this is safe. But for children—especially neurodivergent children—safety is about much more than appearances. It’s about what feels safe, deep down, in their bodies and minds.

This is the difference between felt safety and assumed safety. Felt safety is a child’s subjective experience of being secure, relaxed, and connected. It’s deeply personal and shaped by their unique nervous system and experiences. In contrast, assumed safety is what we, as adults, think should feel safe, based on conventional norms or our own perspectives.

This distinction is at the heart of low demand parenting. It’s about stepping away from assumptions and truly listening to what our children are telling us about their needs.

What is Felt Safety?

Stephen W. Porges in “The Pocket Guide to the Polyvagal Theory: The Transformative Power of Feeling Safe” says, “Our misunderstanding of the role of safety is based on an assumption that we think we know what safety means. This assumption needs to be challenged, because there may be an inconsistency between the words we use to describe safety and our bodily feelings of safety.”

Mona Delahooke defines safety as “joyful, relaxed relationships,” characterized by genuine affection. Felt safety is deeply personal and varies widely from one individual to another and from one moment to another. For children especially, what feels safe can be vastly different from what adults assume safety should look like.

In low demand parenting, recognizing and respecting these personal differences in felt safety is crucial. It's about creating an environment where a child feels truly secure and understood, not just physically but also emotionally.

Researcher Lori Desaultes states our role as adults beautifully, “Adults have to be able to create a sanctuary of safety and connection so children and youth can feel their way into a space of felt safety.”

True safety is about connection—being seen, loved, and respected just as we are. For many children, this kind of safety requires accommodations that don’t align with societal expectations, but that’s exactly the point. Felt safety is personal, ever-changing, and sometimes countercultural.

Felt Safety vs. Assumed Safety

The gap between felt safety and assumed safety can be wide. As adults, we often project our own ideas of what should feel safe onto our children, missing the mark entirely.

• Physical Closeness vs. Independence
  Assumed safety says that older children and teens should become more independent and need less physical closeness. But for some children, felt safety might mean sleeping in the same room as a parent or snuggling on the couch well into their teenage years. In low demand parenting, this need isn’t judged—it’s honored.
• Structure vs. Flexibility
  Assumed safety often points to structured environments—routines, schedules, and clear expectations—as key to stability. But for children with sensory processing challenges or PDA, rigid structure can feel suffocating. Felt safety for these children might look like flexible homeschooling or choosing their own learning paths. Conversely, some kids thrive on routine but need control over how it’s implemented—like choosing when and how they tackle daily tasks.

Here’s a personal example from my family: One of my children thrives on predictability but can’t tolerate the rigidity of a strict schedule. For them, felt safety comes from having a loose structure with built-in autonomy. For instance, we might set a goal of doing schoolwork in the morning but allow them to decide when to start and how to approach it. That blend of routine and freedom makes all the difference.

Our Story: When Assumed Safety Missed the Mark

I remember a moment that taught me the importance of felt safety versus assumed safety. One winter evening, our family attended a small neighborhood gathering—a seemingly relaxed, low-key event. By all accounts, it should have felt safe. The environment was quiet, the people were kind, and there were no major demands.

But for my child, none of that mattered. Within minutes, they were clinging to me, overwhelmed and on the edge of a meltdown. Everything about the environment—its unfamiliarity, the subtle social expectations, even the lighting—felt unsafe to them.

At first, I struggled with frustration. I had gone out of my way to create what I thought was a “safe” experience. But when I tuned into my child, I realized they weren’t feeling safe at all. I whispered, “Do you want to leave?” They nodded, and we went home.

That night, as they cuddled next to me on the couch, they sighed and said, “Now I feel better.” That was my lightbulb moment. Felt safety wasn’t about what I thought should feel safe—it was about listening to what they were telling me, even when it didn’t match my assumptions.

How to Cultivate Felt Safety

1. Tune In
   Pay attention to your child’s signals, even the subtle ones. What calms them? What agitates them? Felt safety is rooted in responsiveness.
2. Create a Responsive Environment
   Adjust your child’s surroundings to minimize stressors. This might mean dimming lights, lowering noise levels, or giving them space to retreat when they need it.
3. Validate Their Feelings
   When your child expresses fear or discomfort, take it seriously. Instead of saying, “You’re fine,” try, “I hear you. What can we do to help you feel better?”
4. Educate and Advocate
   Help teachers, family members, and others understand your child’s unique needs for safety. Felt safety doesn’t have to stop at home—it can extend into their wider world. 

The Power of Felt Safety

Felt safety isn’t just about comfort—it’s about empowerment. When children feel safe, they are free to explore, learn, and grow in ways that are true to their nature. They develop resilience not through force or coercion, but through secure relationships and environments.

By prioritizing felt safety, we step away from the one-size-fits-all narrative of what children need. Instead, we create spaces where they can flourish as their full, beautiful, complex selves.

And as parents, we find a deeper connection—not just to our children, but to the truth of who they are and what they need.