Feeling Safe in Groups: Why It Matters More Than You Think

When we come together in group therapy or encounter-style gatherings, something powerful happens. We don’t just share stories — we co-create a space. And whether that space feels safe or not has a profound impact on how deeply we can relate, explore, and grow.

Safety and unsafety aren’t just abstract ideas. They live in the nervous system. They show up in our bodies as tension, withdrawal, shutdown, or openness — and they shape how we connect with others. According to Polyvagal Theory by Stephen Porges, feeling safe isn’t about comfort at all costs. It’s about being regulated enough to stay present — even when things get uncomfortable.

But groups are also social systems — with their own rules, rhythms, and power dynamics. Sociologist Niklas Luhmann suggested that every social system operates around a central guiding distinction — like legal/illegal in law, or power/no power in politics. In psychotherapy — not only in groups but in one-on-one work as well — a helpful guiding distinction is safe/unsafe.

This doesn’t mean therapy should always feel soothing. Sometimes, what’s most healing is being able to stay present with difficult emotions, interpersonal tension, or honest feedback. But that’s only possible when we’re supported enough to stay in contact — with ourselves and with others.

In a recent encounter group I facilitated, conflict arose around the creation of a breakout space for LGBTQ+ participants. Some members felt the subgroup offered vital safety and visibility. Others expressed uncertainty or even discomfort about the perceived separation. Emotions ran high. One participant, overwhelmed, left the group in tears. It was a moment that laid bare the layered dynamics of identity, belonging, and group cohesion.

What helped the group move forward wasn’t “resolving” the conflict — it was staying in relationship through the discomfort. That’s the core of process-focused group therapy, as inspired by Irvin Yalom: creating a space where tension can be held with care, difference can be explored without rupture, and safety is built through mutual respect, not sameness.

This kind of therapeutic container helps participants internalize something many have never known: that difference doesn’t have to mean disconnection. That conflict doesn’t always mean rejection. That a rupture can be repaired.

And this matters beyond the therapy room.

As Luhmann reminds us, social systems — including families, schools, and workplaces — all operate along implicit rules. Most of us carry the impact of these systems in our bodies. So when we begin to feel safe in groups, we’re not just healing personal wounds. We’re also reshaping how we live in community. How we hold space for each other. How we stay in contact with difference.

Therapy becomes more than a tool for self-insight. It becomes rehearsal for a more human world.

If you’re curious about joining a therapeutic group or learning more about how Encounter work might support your own growth, I invite you to get in touch.