Nice Doesn’t Always Mean Safe: Why Adoptees Need More Than Kindness to Thrive

Are you surrounding yourself with people who are nice—or people who are safe?

It’s a question that often stops people in their tracks. For adoptees, especially those in transracial families, this distinction can be the difference between surviving and thriving. “Nice” is often what’s socially acceptable—polished, polite, and conflict-averse. But what we need—as adoptees, as people of color, as human beings—is safety: relationships where we are accepted, protected, and embraced in our full identities.

Here’s why it’s important to know the difference:

1. NICE = Filtered expression, valuing external peace. SAFE = Free expression, valuing internal peace.

Nice people may encourage us to “stay positive” or “focus on the good,” but often at the cost of silencing real emotions. They might shift the conversation away when things get heavy or uncomfortable, not realizing how invalidating that can feel. In contrast, safe people hold space for the full spectrum of our feelings—rage, sorrow, joy, pride—without flinching. They understand that peace on the outside means very little if we’re sacrificing peace on the inside. Safe people invite us to show up authentically, not perform pleasantly.

2. NICE = Polite, friendly, or neutral. SAFE = Honest, curious, and accountable.

“Nice” may offer a smile and small talk, but it rarely goes deeper. It avoids rocking the boat. A nice person may avoid difficult topics or stay neutral during moments of harm. But safe people are invested in truth and growth. They’re willing to ask hard questions, admit when they’ve caused harm, and learn from feedback without defensiveness. They don’t aim to appear good—they aim to do good, even when it’s messy. This kind of accountability is what builds real trust.

3. NICE = Sympathetic and comfortable. SAFE = Empathetic and authentic.

Sympathy can sound like, “That must be hard,” while maintaining distance. Safe people, grounded in empathy, lean in. They don’t just acknowledge pain—they stay present through it. They aren’t trying to fix or dismiss the experience; they’re willing to feel uncomfortable alongside us. Safe people understand that being fully ourselves might sometimes be raw or complicated, and they meet us there with their own vulnerability, not a rehearsed platitude.

4. NICE = Situationally dependent. SAFE = Reliable and consistent.

Niceness often disappears when things become inconvenient. A nice person might offer support when it’s easy or socially rewarding, but disappear when conflict arises or when real advocacy is needed. Safe people, on the other hand, show up consistently. They are dependable whether it’s a crisis or a celebration. They don’t disappear when things get messy—they lean in, not because it benefits them, but because they care about you.

5. NICE = Superficial engagement promoting tolerance. SAFE = Deep and active engagement promoting support and collaboration.

Nice people might “tolerate” difference, but that word in itself is telling—it implies putting up with someone, rather than embracing and supporting them. Tolerance is passive. Safe people go further. They engage deeply, ask thoughtful questions, and take real action. They want to understand your experiences so they can walk beside you, not ahead of or behind you. They collaborate, invite feedback, and seek to co-create spaces where everyone can thrive—not just fit in.

6. NICE = Advances the status quo. SAFE = Seeks growth and change.**

Nice people often shy away from discomfort because they don’t want to disrupt harmony—even when that harmony is only surface-level. They may ignore issues of race, adoption, or injustice to keep the peace. Safe people understand that true peace requires justice and growth. They are willing to disrupt old patterns, challenge norms, and grow—individually and collectively. They’re not afraid to evolve, because they know that safety comes from transformation, not stagnation.

For adoptees, especially in transracial families, understanding who feels nice and who feels safe can be a turning point. It’s not about judging others harshly—it’s about learning to recognize what your nervous system, your identity, and your heart actually need in order to feel secure, seen, and supported.

For adoptive parents, this isn’t just a checklist for others—it’s a mirror. Am I creating a home that feels nice, or one that feels safe? Am I modeling filtered politeness, or authentic curiosity and accountability? Your child is watching—and learning from you—about what kinds of people they can trust. Give them a foundation of safety, not just civility.

Because at the end of the day, niceness may make people feel comfortable. But safety is what makes people feel loved.

To learn more, I invite you to read one of my favorite essays, What Happens When a Black Adoptee in a White Family Realizes Love Isn’t Protection, by transracial adoptee Danny Burke, MBA.