This post was inspired by several bloggers, including Dreamerrambling who has written something similar, and Sensitive New World who echoes a lot of my own sentiments with regards to being a highly sensitive person, especially those that consider sensitivity a gift, rather than a curse.
It’s actually not as easy as it sounds. After over three decades of ignorance, denial and conditioning, I had often looked upon who I was (pre-HSP discovery) as flawed. I now realise this is so, so wrong. I am not flawed; there is nothing wrong with me. I am merely different. Being different is so much easier to handle than perceiving that you are inadequate, invalid, defective.
Living as a sensitive person is not a bowl of cherries, by any stretch of the imagination. However, neither is it all doom and gloom. So, I wanted to lift a glass in celebration of who I am, and explain the top six reasons why being a HSP makes me a lucky, rather than unfortunate, person.
1. I feel. Deeply. This means that I laugh loud and cry hard. It means that when my nine year old struggles with low confidence and self doubt, I get him. Really get him. It means that I suffer horrific mummy guilt, but that it enables me to learn from my mistakes, and much less reluctant to repeat them. It makes me the person all my friends (and sometimes, strangers), talk to about their deepest feelings; they trust me.
2. I talk. I believe that the ability to talk about your feelings helps make you happier. I think that men are more likely to commit suicide because they are not only unable to deal with their feelings, but to express them, too. Of course, this is just the tip of the iceberg; being highly sensitive is not a magic wand that can ward off all mental health conditions. No, I am not saying that. What I am saying is that I believe there is a correlation between being unable to express yourself (for whatever reason), and depression. I believe that my ability to talk about my feelings makes me a happier, healthier human being. It’s undeniable: I wear my heart on my sleeve; but better on my sleeve than tucked under my jumper.
3. I care. I care enormously about other people. How they feel; what they are thinking. I am incredibly loyal, understanding and compassionate. I am so very aware of others: you won’t ever catch me hogging the supermarket aisle with my trolley. I believe that makes me a good friend; someone you want on your side, especially when things get tough.
4. I’m careful. Everything I do is thought out. I consider every aspect and eventuality, and then some, before deciding on something. It prevents rash purchases; it helps me decide the right choices for my children; it makes me feel in control.
5. I love my own company. Oh, that I do. I absolutely love it. It means that I am self-sufficient and don’t need others to survive. I sometimes think that if I never spoke to another human being (children aside, of course) for the rest of my life, that I would die with a smile on my face.
6. I can spot a liar a mile off. Whether it is my kids fibbing, friends being economical with the truth, or boyfriends being unfaithful, I’ve always known. I know when people don’t like me. In the past, I had often denied this; tried to find some logical explanation, such as me being paranoid. I now know this is not true. I now know that the logical explanation is the truth; that they just don’t like me.
And there you have it. This is me in a nutshell. These are traits that make me glad, truly glad, to be sensitive. Next, I may just write about the not so pleasant aspects. But then again, maybe I won’t. Why spoil a good thing?
Image courtesy of samuiblue / FreeDigitalPhotos.net