By Stacie Later, LCSW
The phrase “safe space” has become a common promise in therapy and helping professions. It shows up on websites, social media, and door signs. I understand it’s well-intentioned and often meant to provide comfort. Still, I’ve chosen not to use that label when describing myself as a clinician or my office.
Safety is important, yes. Emotional safety, physical safety, and psychological safety are foundational to healing. The reason I don’t declare my space a “safe space” is because safety is not something I get to define for someone else. It’s not a sticker I can slap on the door or a vibe I can guarantee. Safety is a felt sense. It’s shaped by lived experience, cultural background, trauma history, and personal needs. What feels safe for one person might feel threatening or confusing for another.
I’ve worked with clients who feel uneasy with soft lighting and silence because it reminds them of manipulative or controlling environments. Others who feel activated by certain fragrances or feel unsettled when I keep eye contact. Even my tone, body language, or clothing choices can impact a client’s sense of security in ways I may not anticipate.
Declaring a space “safe” can create pressure for clients to agree with that label even when they don’t feel it. If someone walks into my office and doesn’t feel safe right away, they may conclude they’re doing something wrong, or that I’m not someone they can be honest with. I’d rather let clients define their experience without assigning a label they might not resonate with.
Instead of declaring safety, I focus on building and protecting trust. I welcome feedback, get and stay curious, and recognize that my presence can affect people differently based on who they are and what they’ve lived through. I am human which means I will make mistakes, and I will own up to them. I work to create a space where safety can grow and flourish, rather than assume it already exists.
Safety is a process. It evolves over time through consistent care, mutual respect, and responsiveness. When clients are empowered to name what feels safe for them, the space becomes more authentic and collaborative.
So no, I don’t call myself or my office a “safe space.” I aim for it to become a space where safety can be discovered, defined and embraced.