Security Is a Love Language (In Software)

I used to think security was the part of the project you add when you’re done building the real thing. Like sprinkles. Or a seatbelt you buckle right before the crash.

Now I think security is closer to care.

Not the performative kind. The quiet, boring, deeply meaningful kind.

When you build something people trust with their private lives—especially anything touching intimacy, relationships, or identity—you’re not just shipping features. You’re creating a space where humans are allowed to be soft without consequences.

That’s a big deal.

And it’s why I’ve started thinking of security as a kind of love language in software. It’s how you communicate:
“I considered your worst day.”
“I protected you when you weren’t thinking about it.”
“I didn’t assume you’d read the fine print.”

The shift

The mindset change wasn’t a single epiphany. It was a slow accumulation of “oh wow, that would be awful.”

• A leaked token isn’t just a bug. It’s someone’s trust evaporating.

• A sloppy audit log isn’t just technical debt. It’s a future incident you can’t explain.

• Over-collecting data isn’t “nice to have.” It’s risk you’re storing on behalf of strangers.

Eventually the pattern became obvious: security isn’t separate from product quality. It is product quality.

The unsexy practices that actually say “I care”

If I’m honest, the most loving things I’ve built lately are painfully unglamorous:

• Storing less data than I could.

• Expiring sessions aggressively.

• Treating every mutation like it needs an idempotency key.

• Making sure logs don’t accidentally become a gossip column.

• Designing permissions that start with “no” and earn their way to “yes.”

This isn’t the part of the roadmap that gets applause. But it’s the part that keeps your app from becoming a cautionary tale on the internet.

The romantic wellness twist

There’s also something uniquely intense about building in a space that intersects with relationships. People aren’t just users. They’re vulnerable, hopeful, sometimes nervous, and often trying to do something brave: communicate.

So if the app is a place where trust is supposed to grow, the platform has to act like a trustworthy partner too.

That means I’m learning to build with a backstage mentality:
Even when nobody is looking, this should still be safe.

The rule I’m adopting

I’m increasingly guiding my own work with one uncomfortable question:

If this feature fails spectacularly, what does it cost a real person?

If the answer is “privacy, safety, dignity, or emotional harm,” then security has to be part of the first draft—not the last patch.

What I’m still learning

I’m still refining the balance between shipping and hardening. I’m still learning how to prioritize the security work that matters most early—especially in startup mode where everything is a tradeoff.

But my north star is stable now:

Security isn’t paranoia.
It’s respect.

And for the kinds of products I want to build, respect is not optional.

Taylor Swift Quote

"Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate)"