Safety is Sexy

I spent most of my twenties (and thirties) chasing the next adrenaline rush.

Moving to new countries, jumping into startups that had more ambition than runway, meeting fascinating but spectacularly inconsistent people—there was something intoxicating about the unknown, about never quite knowing what came next.

Then last month, something strange happened. I was sitting in my living room in Dubai, paying bills online—the most mundane task imaginable—when this wave of soft happiness washed over me. Not excitement. Not thrill. Just this profound sense of... safety.

I had enough money to cover everything. My job wasn't hanging by a thread. My relationship wasn't an emotional rollercoaster (till it is), and instead of feeling bored by this stability, I felt something closer to deeply, irrationally peaceful.

Which, admittedly, is a weird thing to feel about paying utility bills.

And knowing me, this feeling won't last. So hear me out while I'm in the mood.

The Safety Paradox

Growing up in an Indian household, safety was presented as the opposite of adventure. My parents' generation had a clear hierarchy of career choices, with government jobs at the top, followed closely by engineering, medicine, and law—not because they were exciting or fulfilling, but because they were secure. When I told my family I was leaving a stable job to start my own, they told me I was crazy. "Why are you wasting your money?" I mean, they were right, but…

Meanwhile, American culture fed me the opposite narrative: safety is boring. Safety is settling. The heroes in movies are never the ones who make responsible choices; they're the ones who take insane risks, and somehow everything turns out alright.

But after eighteen years of product management—watching ideas succeed and fail, watching startups implode and corporations stagnate—I've noticed something counterintuitive:

The most innovative people I know have incredibly stable foundations.

Some of the most successful people I know (and follow) lead boring af lives. Married forever, going to bed at 9 pm (that'd be a wild night) and waking up early, exercising, and whatnot. Routine.

The entrepreneur who takes the biggest business risks has a meticulously organized financial safety net. The artist with the most experimental work has the most structured daily routine.

It's not a coincidence.

The Freedom That Comes From Floors

There's a concept I've been thinking about called "psychological basecamp."

Mountaineers don't start a climb and keep going up without stopping. They establish basecamps—secure, stable platforms where they can rest, recalibrate, and prepare for the next push toward the summit.

I'm slowly realizing that safety doesn't diminish adventure—it enables it. It's not the opposite of excitement; it's the foundation that makes sustainable excitement possible.

When a friend of mine started his business in Dubai, his first move wasn't some bold, headline-grabbing launch. It was setting up enough passive income to cover his basic expenses for two years. Not sexy by startup mythology standards. But that safety net allowed him to take creative risks his competitors couldn't touch. And now, the boy's doing well.

Safety, it turns out, is just another word for freedom.

The Three Dimensions of Secure Excitement

I've started mapping this idea in my own life and noticed three types of safety that enhance rather than diminish excitement:

1. Financial Floors — Not wealth, but knowing your basic needs are covered no matter what. This isn't about being rich; it's about having enough guaranteed stability that you can take risks elsewhere.

2. Relationship Consistency — Not boring relationships, but relationships where the connection itself isn't constantly in question. The most passionate couples I know aren't wondering if they'll be together tomorrow, they're wondering what they'll do next together.

3. Identity Anchors — Not rigid self-definition, but having core aspects of yourself that remain stable while others evolve. Like a lawyer who moonlights as an artist on the side. The lawyer serves as the foundation, allowing the artist to be unhinged.

A safe platform in one area creates the possibility for sexy growth in others.

The Dubai Paradox

I see this everywhere in Dubai. From the outside, this city looks like an explosion of architectural ambition, business innovation, glass towers, and impossibly shaped islands.

But when you live here, you notice something else: behind all this audacious creativity is an infrastructure of meticulous safety. The financial systems, physical security, and social stability create a platform that allows for architectural and commercial risks that would be impossible elsewhere.

The pattern shows up everywhere once you start looking:

• Richard Branson's "risky" Virgin ventures. Structured so each business stands alone, protecting the others if one fails.

• Sara Blakely worked a stable job selling fax machines while developing Spanx on the side.

• Even Van Gogh, the poster child for the "unstable artist" myth, was most productive during the periods when his living situation was most stable.

It's not that safety leads to bold risks. It's that safety and bold risks aren't opposites at all—they're strategic partners in badassery.

The Anti-Hero's Journey

We're told that the hero's journey requires leaving safety behind.

But the real journey isn't about abandoning security but about creating a more sophisticated relationship with it.

This is the Anti-Hero's Journey:

First, we rebel against safety, seeing it as the enemy of excitement. Then, we exhaust ourselves trying to maintain constant intensity without foundation. Ultimately, we realize that safety doesn't diminish our adventures—it enhances their sustainability.

Remember, the point isn't to avoid adventure, but to amplify it through safety.

The Safety Spectrum

I'm not suggesting we all need to become obsessed with security. There's a spectrum here:

Too little safety, and you're constantly in survival mode, unable to take meaningful risks because you're just trying not to drown. F*ck.

Too much safety, and you're building cages that eventually suffocate the very growth you want to protect. F*ck x 2.

The sweet spot is creating floors, not ceilings—safety measures that catch you when you fall, not barriers that prevent you from jumping.

The Sexy Middle

So here's my conclusion:

Safety is sexy because it enables growth.

The most attractive thing isn't someone who's reckless or someone who's paralyzed by caution. It's someone who's built enough security to take meaningful risks. Someone who can be vulnerable precisely because they're not fragile.

Stop seeing safety and excitement as opponents in a zero-sum game. Instead, see them as the ultimate power couple.

That's why paying my bills felt strangely satisfying. Not because routine payments are thrilling, but because they're part of the foundation that lets me chase bigger thrills with confidence.

Safety isn't about avoiding life's roller coasters. It's about making sure the tracks won't collapse midway through the ride.

What's one "boring" aspect of your life that actually enables your most exciting pursuits? I'm curious how this shows up for others. Let me know. I read everything.

Till next time,

Parves