Growing up, I was an extremely sensitive child. I still feel deeply, but, back then, I not only felt deeply, but I also reacted deeply. I couldn’t handle criticism of any sort. I took feedback and advice personally as if they were a direct assault on my values and character. I would cry wondering why someone would hurt me with their words. In hindsight, those words weren’t all that hurtful. I’d hold a grudge and then avoid the person or the action that was criticized for an unreasonably long time. Sadly, all of the above continued well into adulthood. It wasn’t until I embarked on my healing journey that I moved away from these reactive feelings and behaviors. In this week’s blog, I share what finally brought me to a place where I can regain perspective and regulate my emotions in such situations. If you are a fellow feeler like me, then I hope this blog reminds you that you’re not alone and there are ways to find balance with your deeply felt emotions.
First, I had to come to terms with the fact that there was no shame in being a sensitive soul. My empathy was my strength, and I had to stop looking at it as a curse. The way I feel helps me connect differently, not poorly, especially in my field of coaching. None of it means that I am not good enough or that people unlike me are not good enough. It is who I am, and I accept it.
I still remember how embarrassed I used to be about crying in public or in front of anyone. I would lock myself in the bathroom, cry my eyes out, and then make funny faces in the mirror in hopes of others not recognizing that I had shed tears. Today, I don’t cry as easily, but when my eyes well up and the tears spill over, I let them. After all, I’m only human.
Second, I had to learn to differentiate between constructive and ill-intentioned criticism. Not everyone was out to get me. The less I approached life with a fear of being critiqued, the less reactive I became. That slowly helped me understand when someone was projecting and when someone had my best interest at heart. Learning this distinction was imperative, because it became easier to shrug off other people’s insecurities aimed at me. Consequently, it also became easier to embrace and apply truthful evaluations of me.
For instance, I remember when I got divorced, there was so much said about me and to me. Some of it by people who I thought actually cared about me. Over the years, as I processed that part of my life, I recognized that I didn’t need to feel like the bad guy based on what these people were saying. I didn’t need their labels to stick. Their opinions were theirs alone, but their opinions helped me take a closer look at what had indeed gone wrong and how I could be a better partner in the future.
Third, it finally dawned on me that everyone was not me: they didn’t have the same level of empathy, observation, or delivery. Not everyone was going to worry about my feelings and how their actions and words would impact me. These people weren’t bad nor was I better. We were different people with varying life experiences that had shaped us. My job was not to change them. My sole task was to work on myself and my reactions. In fact, through them, I recognized that, at times, the bitter truth is necessary. Sometimes, empathy translates to tough love.
Fourth, and the most important, was learning to be kind to myself. Through all the work I did, one piece stood out to me: self-compassion. I had zero niceness for myself majority of the time. It’s one of the main reasons why my feelings were so wrapped up in how others made me feel, since I made myself feel like shit most of the time. I blindly followed this false notion that because I was too soft for this world, I had to toughen up and that was only possible if I was constantly hard on myself. What a boat load of garbage, because vulnerability is what heals us, not shame.
I want to take a moment and specifically define self-compassion; it is kindness, mindfulness, and relatedness. That means kindness towards ourselves, where failures and imperfections are not vilified but treated as works in progress. That means mindfulness where emotions are not considered a nuisance but processed through curiosity, non-judgment, and understanding. That means relatedness, where the thought process shifts from “why me” to one where we recognize that all humans suffer in their own ways. As a result, our suffering isn’t an isolated experience, but one that we can get through together with our chosen support systems.
As acts of self-compassion, I embraced forgiving myself, learning from my mistakes, appreciating the good, working on the not-so-good, setting better boundaries, making time for self-care, paying attention to my inner dialogue, expressing tons of gratitude, and sharing with the people worthy of my stories.
Being sensitive is not a sin, but if it gets in the way of becoming the best version of yourself, whatever that means to you, then it’s time to take a closer look. In those instances, it might not be sensitivity but deeper ways of functioning that need to be addressed and upgraded. When you address those dysfunctional ways, they will leave you more empowered with your sensitivity.
As always, I am here to support you all the way. I hope you keep in touch with your stories, thoughts, and feedback. If you wish to learn more, please stop by www.imperfectbodies.com. Lastly, if you enjoyed this information, then please share it with others.
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All the best,
Chaitni