Why It’s So Hard to Feel Safe in Healthy Relationships (When You Grew Up With Chaos)
Betty* went into her relationship with Claire after a year of therapy, strong as hell, clear in her self-respect, ready for something different after her last hellish breakup. After four amazing months together, Betty noticed old patterns resurfacing. Of course, now that she was attached, her body was telling her it wasn’t safe to ask for care, have needs, or say “no.” No matter how generous Claire was with her reassurance and affection, Betty found herself searching her eyes for sincerity. “She can't possibly mean all this nice stuff.” And then there was the night Claire stayed up late comforting Betty after her sweet soul cat had a major health scare. Betty found herself waiting for that vulnerability to be used against her for weeks after, even when all she received were supportive check-ins and cozy snuggles. It didn’t seem to matter how well things were going; Betty found herself waiting for the other shoe to drop in every quiet moment.
“WTFFFF….! Why can’t I just enjoy this connection?!”
Boo, I get it. So many of us who grew up with unpredictable caregivers are now struggling with the ghosts of those experiences in our current relationships. It’s confusing. It’s painful. And I promise it can change. In fact, because these painful habits were learned in relationship with another person (your parent), they are most powerfully healed in relationship. With some care and attention, you can rewire your nervous system to experience real safety and intimacy. Lemme give you some tips to untangle this ball of relationship confusion and start down the path of healing. Follow me!
(*Note: “Betty” is a character created to demonstrate common relationship patterns and does not represent a specific client’s lived experience. Everything discussed in therapy sessions is kept strictly confidential.)
When Childhood Chaos Becomes Your “Normal”
“In the family forge, I got burned
Taught a story in so many words
That it's bеst to prepare for the worst”
-Feist
If you grew up with emotionally immature parents, you had to figure out how to survive emotional chaos from the start. Emotionally immature parents have no idea how to manage their own feelings, so they couldn’t possibly help you care for yours. So you learned how to see the signs for shifting moods, what kinds of things triggered an explosion, how to behave to maintain harmony. Maybe your caregivers:
Had big, volatile emotions that you felt the need to monitor, escape, or soothe
Were allergic to accountability and made you feel responsible for their pain
Used the silent treatment or emotional coldness to communicate that your needs were “too much”
In those conditions, your nervous system learned something crucial: Stay on high alert. It’s not safe to relax. I can’t trust a moment of calm. Because even when things were good, danger often wasn’t far behind. This scanning for danger wasn’t a conscious choice (who would choose this??). It was your body doing its best to keep you safe. Remaining hypervigilant was your wisdom in action, protective and self-loving.
Fast forward to adulthood: you might have gone through a series of partners who were a little better than your parents with a hearty sprinkle of that old familiar fear and drama. When we’re really lucky, we keep learning that we deserve better and find someone who is emotionally safe. That should be it, right? Mission accomplished? Womp, womp, your body still feels like it’s living in the past, looking for the next threat that never comes. When you hear about trauma being “stored in the body,” this is what we’re talking about. Anxiously assessing safety in every moment of your relationship is not something you’ve consciously added to your to-do list. It’s an old program that has been running in the background since you were very little. It’s time for a system update!
Why “Healthy” Relationships Feel So Uncomfortable
Healthy relationships bring consistency, reliability, emotional availability, clear communication, and room for your full humanity—messy parts and all. Sounds amazing, right? Except if you grew up navigating instability, it can be hard to enjoy the new ease because of that tricky program running in the background that is always scanning for danger. When the hypervigilance is happening unconsciously (e.g. we don’t realize this program is running), it’s impossible to switch it off. So let’s get clear about what stories we’re holding on to so we have the opportunity to choose something different.
One of the most common patterns I see with folks I work with is that consistency and dependability gets interpreted as boring. Let’s look at this through the lens of early childhood learning. It’s evolutionarily best if we believe our caregiver loves us, no matter how much of their behavior suggests otherwise. That means that with emotionally immature parents, we learned to associate love with chaos. Now you’re an adult and you’re interpreting your current partner’s stability as a lack of love. Oof. Thanks a lot, dad…
Here’s another misinterpretation I see all the time: viewing your partner’s reliability as a trap, a set-up, or a farce that will soon fall apart. This makes a lot of sense if your parent was a Jekyll and Hyde type: smiling in front of others at church and then wickedly cruel behind closed doors. Or reassuring you they weren’t mad while also icing you out with the silent treatment. That kind of experience, repeated over and over, makes it hard to trust a kind and stable partner. You spent your whole childhood waiting for the other shoe to drop; of course there’s a part of your nervous system that worries this relationship might be the same.
Another common experience? Feeling smothered or overwhelmed when your partner is emotionally available. If you grew up with emotionally immature parents, you likely had to manage their feelings more than they ever managed yours. You learned to keep your own needs small, your emotions quieter, your presence less disruptive. So now, when someone actually wants to know how you feel, leans in instead of pulling away, your body might interpret that closeness as a threat. Not because your partner is doing anything wrong but because you're wired to equate emotional closeness with enmeshment, pressure, or even danger. Makes sense, right?
And here’s a sneaky one: feeling painfully exposed when your partner really sees you. If your caregivers reacted to your vulnerability with shame, ridicule, or indifference, then being truly seen now can feel unbearable. You might find yourself pulling away, deflecting with humor, or even picking fights, anything to escape that raw, spotlighted feeling. Because back then, being seen didn’t mean being understood or loved. It meant being judged or rejected. So of course, now that your partner offers attunement and care, some part of you flinches. That’s you being brilliantly adapted to the past. But you’re here because you are ready for a softer future.
Nervous System 101: Why You Feel Like “Too Much” (or “Not Enough”)
When healthy love shows up, your nervous system doesn't automatically think, “Phew, safety at last!” Instead, it often thinks, “This is unfamiliar, and unfamiliar equals unsafe.” If chaos was your earliest environment, chaos feels familiar. Even though part of you deeply wants healthy love, another part of you might panic when you finally get it. Let’s zoom out for a second and talk about how your nervous system plays in this cycle.
You basically have a few modes your nervous system moves between:
Safe and Social: You feel calm, connected, and open.
Fight/Flight: You feel anxious, irritable, panicked, or ready to bolt.
Freeze/Shutdown: You feel numb, hopeless, withdrawn, or disconnected.
Fawn: You feel pulled to regulate the emotions of others in order to regulate yourself.
When you're with someone safe but your wiring is still expecting danger, you can bounce between these states like a ping-pong ball:
Hypervigilance: “When will they hurt me?”
Panic: “I need to push them away before they leave me.”
Shutdown: “I’m too much. I don’t deserve this. Better to stop trying.”
This is because your nervous system learned that vigilance was survival and it hasn’t yet gotten the memo that the rules have changed. Your programming is no longer keeping you alive, it’s holding you back from healthy connection.
The good news? Your nervous system can learn.
It can learn that calm isn’t the enemy.
It can learn that steady people aren’t secretly plotting to abandon you.
It can learn that it's safe to relax into goodness.
Healing happens not by forcing yourself to trust, but by gently offering your nervous system new experiences of safety, again and again, until safety becomes the new familiar.
Remember Betty? Over time, we were able to help her shift out of the perpetual scanning for safety so she had more time and energy to spend on her own needs. Self-regulation was so much more possible when she learned that she didn’t have to also regulate her partner! Two years later, Betty and Claire are living the good life together, taking their adopted pup on weekend hikes and silly-dancing in the kitchen. The knots in her stomach have been replaced with big belly laughs. There’s room to be soft without feeling scared.
How to Start Feeling Safe with Good People: Practical Steps
Healing this stuff isn’t about bulldozing over your fear. It’s about building micro-trust with yourself first, and then, little by little, with safe others. Here’s how you can start:
Name it to tame it
When you feel that familiar wave of distrust or panic, try saying to yourself:
"Ooh, I’m noticing my body reacting in that old familiar way. And I know that this situation is different."
Separating old fear from present reality is powerful. You don’t have to believe every anxious thought. You can get curious instead. Want to take it deeper? Write down specific ways that your present situation is different from that old scary one.
Befriend Your Body
When your nervous system amps up (hello, racing heart and stomach knots), try small grounding tools:
Press your feet firmly into the floor and feel the ground hold you or notice your contact with whatever surface is supporting you.
Place one hand on your chest, one on your belly, and practice gently slowing down your exhale.
Move that jangly energy out of your body with movement: think 1 minute of jumping jacks, dancing wild through one upbeat song, or running around the block.
Regulating your body helps your mind calm down, too.
Take Safe Risks, Slowly
You don’t have to dive into vulnerability all at once. Tiny steps are more than enough.
Share a small piece of your feelings with a trusted person.
Let someone show up for you in a small way and notice how it feels.
Practice staying present for a few seconds longer in moments of connection.
Each safe experience adds a new thread to your internal sense of security.
Offer Yourself Compassion, Not Criticism
Healing isn’t linear. You will have days where you’re proud and days where you feel like you’re back at square one.
On those hard days, say to yourself:
"Of course I’m scared. This is unfamiliar. But I’m learning."
“It’s okay to have a hard day. I’m still moving in the right direction.”
“I deserve the same care I give everyone else.”
Fear isn’t a failure. It’s a sign you’re moving toward something new. Let your nervous system have time to catch up!
Journal Prompts to Deepen Your Healing
Journaling is one of my favorite ways to work through old programming. Choose whatever format most suits you, whether it’s old-fashioned pen and paper, a note on your phone, or a doc on your computer (and feel free to change it up based on your mood!). The act of writing something down forces you to organize those racing thoughts. It always leaves me feeling a bit calmer and clearer; I hope it can offer you the same relief.
Disclaimer: These prompts are a good fit if you feel pretty clear that you’re in a healthy relationship and want your nervous system to catch up with your new, safe reality. If you are on the fence about whether or not your relationship is a safe one, that’s a good cue to reach out for more support from a trusted friend, family member, or therapist.
What does “safe love” feel like in my body? What sensations, images, or memories come up when I think about feeling cared for? If it’s hard to choose a memory of safe love, what do I want it to look and feel like?
When I notice fear in a relationship, what old story might my nervous system be telling me? How might my current relationship be different from the old story? What specific ways has my partner acted differently from my caregiver?
What small signs of safety or care have I noticed in my relationships over the past week?
There are no wrong answers here. Let the writing flow naturally without it having to be perfect (this might take some practice and that’s okay). Notice how you feel after journaling.
Final Thoughts: You Deserve to Feel Safe
Feeling edgy, suspicious, or overwhelmed in healthy relationships doesn’t mean you’re not “relationship-ing” right. It means your nervous system adapted to survive chaos and it’s learning, slowly but surely, that a new reality is possible. The work isn’t about being “less sensitive” or “more trusting on command.” It’s about honoring your body's wisdom and giving it new experiences of safety to anchor into. Healing is slow. Healing is messy. Healing is brave as hell. And you’re doing it, even on the days it doesn’t feel like it.
✨ If you're ready to get extra support on your journey, someone to walk beside you as you rewire your nervous system and build relationships that feel as good as they are, you’re so welcome to reach out. I’d be honored to walk with you. And if you want to do that in community with others who really get it, you might love our reading and support group for folks with emotionally immature parents. Whatever your path, I’m so excited for your continued healing.✨
