I’m a sensitive person. I’m a Highly Sensitive Person.
(Check our Elaine Aron’s work of the same name)
I grew up being embarrassed of my thin skin, crying too easily. It was seen as weak to be sensitive.
I’ve learned to accept, treasure and even be proud of my Sensitivity. It’s what makes my life special and meaningful. I experience the world fully. And, I think it’s also why my fear instinct is to freeze. Sights, sounds, smells, tastes, wrong fabrics (!), can be too much!
My Senses are sharp.!
My exceptional hearing makes me an excellent voice teacher/coach. It can also make me want to bury my head in the sand when I enter a bowling alley.
My sensitive taste buds make me a super taster. I LOVE foods or HATE them. Fresh tomatoes make me gag! I hum if the cake is warm.
My eyes are blue; light blue in the sunshine. Getting my eyes dilated at the doctor’s is difficult. I need to plan those appts for rainy days. The sun strikes like a poker; there are not sunglasses dark enough. My eyes take several hours to return to normal for me to focus on reading. Don’t get me started on the new brighter headlights! Driving at night can be painful!
My nose is likely the most sensitive. I get super cranky when I have a cold; I abhor mouth breathing. Strong perfumes can make me sneeze; so does pepper! My smeller has gotten the brunt of most of the few injuries I’ve endured. I fell into the TV set when I was 11; doctor said I “crunched” my nose. I’ve been hit in the face by a ball more times than I can count (#2 reason I hated P.E. so much!).
A car wreck at 18 had my face meet the steering wheel (almost tore the thing off!); 22 stitches to get the thing back together. Look close; I had an excellent surgeon! As a child I hated that game adults would play - grabbing my nose, pretending to steal it - I cringed when someone touched my nose.
So, now you know the best way to torture me.
And, the best way to comfort me; a touch. A hug, a hand on the back, my arm. A touch from a good heart can set me at ease. Touch is my #1 love language. I’m glad I found @serpadipity who is a good back rubber, hand holder. And, a touch from the wrong person can make me recoil faster than a cheetah’s bolt.
When I was younger, my sensitivities were harder to handle, and probably hard to understand by my people. Now I know that my nervous system was so out of whack, it made my reactions quick and fierce. And now I know, I’d then fall down that polyvagal ladder into stillness, trying to make it all stop.)
Basically, inner torture! Check on your quiet friends who’ve been through stuff. They might not be ok.
I’ve embraced my sensitive nature and now rely on it and value it. It helps me know when it’s time to leave the party, when to turn the music off, when to tell my beau I need some time alone, when everything needs to be off, including me. When I’m in a dysregulated state, all of those senses get heightened on edge. When I’m regulated, I benefit from their sharpness too.
My sensitivity increases my compassion. The tortures of the world hit deep and intense. Other people’s pain feels close; no matter how far away their story is. I was recently reading about the increase of Maternal Mortality now that the Roe has been overturned and I grieve for those already enduring the painful reality. I have not been pregnant, and never will be, and I can’t imagine the pain and fear so many women are facing. My heart aches.
I’m sensitive, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Have you learned to embrace your sensitivity as a good thing? There are advantages!
Take Care of You!
julie