When Safe Spaces Stop Feeling Safe

There’s something comforting about the digital places we retreat to, games, chats, alliances, guilds, the corners of the internet where we feel understood. Where we don’t have to mask or over-explain. Where we belong because we show up, not because we fit a mould.

That’s what my Last War crew was for me. A weird, messy, sometimes loud little online tribe. I’m not even a particularly competitive player, I don’t ever score top 10, sometimes not even top 75, I forget timers, I play with one hand while cooking dinner, but I loved being part of it. It was silly and satisfying and felt like a break from everything else.

Until it wasn’t.

Without going into too much detail (because this isn’t about blame), I made a mistake on the game that cost my alliance the win. A misunderstanding, which became a judgement. A digital version of someone slamming a door in your face and telling you they were disappointed in you, not just in what you did, but in who you are.

And it hurt. More than I expected. Not because it was a game, but because it wasn’t just a game. It was my breathing room. My background comfort. My weird little reset button at the end of long days. I had people there, not close people, but people, in a world where no matter how hard I try, I just can’t maintain real-life friends. And suddenly, I didn’t feel safe there anymore.

If you’re neurodivergent, or emotionally sensitive, or someone who builds trust slowly and takes things deeply, this probably sounds familiar. The loss of a safe space isn’t about the platform. It’s about the emotional attachment you built inside it.

I’m okay now. Genuinely. But it’s taken a bit of quiet to work through the sting. The rejection spiral. The self-doubt. I wasn’t a traitor, despite what others were telling me. It was a mistake, a costly one, but I wasn’t out to hurt anyone. I just made a small mistake and didn’t have the right words or power to fix it fast enough.

So here’s what I’m holding onto: You’re allowed to be sad when something you cared about changes. You’re allowed to feel hurt even if “it’s just a game.” And you’re allowed to outgrow places that no longer feel like home.

After I was asked to leave my alliance, I found home in a new one. It’s not quite the same. I don’t have the same bonds, possibly it will take time, or maybe I’ve just outgrown this space.

But I wanted to write this in case someone else needed to hear it: you’re not overreacting. You’re not dramatic. You just felt safe, and now you don’t. That matters. And so do you.