If someone had told me years ago that being highly sensitive (HSP) is a gift, not a burden, I would have laughed in their face. How can anyone feel gifted about something that it's so frown upon in society, so misunderstood?
A Highly Sensitive Child
I remember my childhood vividly. Although I didn't grow up in a happy environment, the love of my mum and siblings made me feel somewhat protected. Often overprotected. I also remember a word that many around me used to describe me: SENSITIVE. "Oh she is sooo sensitive, she needs to toughen up", or "Don't take things so personally", and my favourite: "You better stop being so sensitive, grow up!". These are some of the pearls of wisdom I constantly heard from people around me, whether they were complete strangers or close family members. They probably meant well. They wanted me to stop being who I was, because being sensitive, in their view, was something negative.
I felt sorry for everything and everyone around me. I cried inconsolably watching my favourite cartoons and I wanted to get inside the screen to help Marco find her mother, give a hug to Heidi for losing her mum, and hold the Beast's hand and tell him that everything will be alright. If any gift I had received, no matter how small, got ruined, I felt so saddened by it that I would feel guilty for not being able to save it. I became uncomfortable eating pork, since piggies were my favourite animals. I was told, once again to "stop being so sensitive, it's just food".
Things got worse when I reached my teens. As a consequence of being highly sensitive -or maybe for other reasons -I became an easy target during my school years, where I was merciless bullied. The more bullied I was, the more "sensitive" I became. I tried to fight back, but it only got worse. I remembered all those voices that warned me: "You are too sensitive, you need to toughen up". They were right after all. At least that's what I thought for the longest time.
Back then, I felt like the weakest person on earth. "Don't be so sensitive, Noelia" - I told myself. "Don't let them see you cry. Toughen up". I wanted so badly to be strong, to not cry, to not be affected by the mean remarks I heard on a daily basis. I was constantly thinking about it and when I got home, I finally could release the tension, cry it out, and be as sensitive as I wanted to be. At home I didn't have to pretend to be tough. I didn't need to hide how sensitive and emotional I was. It was not a thing to be proud of (I thought), so I hid it until I reached a safe place. Oftentimes I would ask myself: is it because I am sensitive that I am being bullied, or am I being bullied and this is causing me to be sensitive? I couldn't figure it out.
Into Adulthood
Years passed by and I became more aware of my sensitivity. I noticed tiny things and details that most people overlooked. I became the proofreader of choice during school assignments, and I got labeled as the one "with an eye for detail". I felt proud of myself. Little did I know that being an HSP comes in many different forms, this was just one of them. I had just started seeing the other side of it, the good side.
Besides my meticulous nature, I became aware of how different I had been all throughout my life. While my friends eagerly waited for the weekend to go out and have fun, I didn't care one bit about going to a club with loud music or having meaningless conversations. I wanted deep conversations, I craved for deep connection, acquiring knowledge, making a difference. I was at my happiest when I was doing something meaningful and productive. But I went along, many times, as one does, to fit in. I felt relief when I got home and often told myself I shouldn't have gone out. If it depended on me, I would have chosen a museum, a chat over a cup of tea, or watched a beautiful movie or theatre performance. This didn't help my weirdo reputation. Needless to say my bullies had more material to work with because of all that. I was first a little girl, then a teenager, later on an adult who would rather stay home writing, drawing, or watching a film, than going out with her friends.
In my early 20s I had already been suffering from insomnia for six years. I worried about every little comment, every little remark made by me or others. Did I say the right thing? Was this person bothered by my actions? Why did he say that, what did I do wrong? I would pick up on tiny little tics people had, making it unbearable for me to stay in the same room without looking away or putting on my headphones. Some smells that others didn't even seem to notice would make me nauseous. I would easily get depressed when I saw or heard something upsetting and I would think about it all day long. Sometimes for weeks. Even months. When I couldn't control my emotions, I felt the most vulnerable. I lived thinking I was a ticking-bomb about to explode at any given moment. I was a sociable person, but after spending time with people I was dying to go hide in my cave, be alone, in silence. I was seen as an extrovert, but I longed to be alone most of the time.
Being a highly sensitive woman, I was convinced that I was not capable of facing any big struggles in life. I lived in feat that something would happen to a loved one, that people would realise how weak I was, and that I would be a target for bullying again. I was under the impression that if a relationship ended or if I parted ways with a friend, it was due to my inability to be tough. I was too sensitive, therefore, I was unworthy of being appreciated. I really thought that being an HSP was a curse. Until I went through it all. I had the bad breakup, the loss of a very close loved one, the bullying at the workplace. Being highly sensitive didn't cause any of these events, life just happened. Whether you are a sensitive person or not.
Embracing HSP
After many years of struggle, I met my now husband in 2010. After a few months dating, he pointed out something that my own mother had said to me before, but we don't always listen to our mothers, do we? He said that when he met me, he thought I was "confident and a bit of a hard-ass". The funny thing here is that once he started to know me better, he was very surprised at how vulnerable and sensitive I was. This came as a surprise to me. Not the vulnerable and sensitive part, but the fact that I gave off that image to the world. I was everything but confident. Meticulous and an apparent hard-ass, yes, but confident? Get out of here!
This discovery got me thinking. Was it being highly sensitive really that bad?
After years loathing myself for being the way I was, I decided to learn about what being a HSP meant. Is being a highly sensitive person some sort of a gift? Is it a skill that I can use to help others? How does being HSP differentiate me from the rest? What can I do to embrace being a highly sensitive person and own it?
I started paying attention to the feedback I got from people who loved me and liked me instead of focusing on remarks and comments from people who didn't appreciate me or who disliked me. This made a huge difference. For the first time in my life I was using my sensitivity to improve myself, to grow, to learn who I was, not to whip myself.
The breakthrough came when I discovered that my ability to put myself in other people's shoes and my extreme thoughtfulness were not qualities that everyone possessed. Other individuals had other qualities I didn't have, but this... this was something very me. I could understand what others felt and accompany them while they laughed, cried, or were unsure about what decision to make. I could guide them and offer them the support they needed. I wasn't afraid to ask provoking questions, but I genuinely cared about the person in front of me and wanted to see him/her thrive.
Little by little I started embracing my high sensitivity and began using it as a powerful tool to help others and to be kinder to myself. At some point I wondered if I could I make a profession out of what I thought it was my biggest weakness for most of my life. Could I?
Being a highly sensitive person wasn't always the easiest thing in the world, but it taught me that being empathetic, being present and caring, I could make a difference in people's lives.
It might take you some time to embrace what you think is your weakness, but once you do, you'll be able to turn it into something wonderful. I promise.
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