What are you extra sensitive to? It could be a certain taboo subject, situations or environments that make you uncomfortable, or perhaps certain types of people or energy. How do you handle it?
I feel like I’m a super sensitive person. My family always used to/probably still does tease me for being “soft.” It offended me when I was younger, but as I grow up I’ve learned to accept that I am a soft person, and most of the time I even like being a soft person. This world tries its damnedest to make us all hard, and in response I try my hardest to live a life full of comforting things, of snuggles and tea and baked goods and blankets and laughter and love.
I am a very emotional person. We’ve talked about this. My heart is very much on my sleeve. My face gives me away. I’m a crier. I cry when I laugh and crying is generally my first response when I’m upset about something.
And I’m quite sensitive to other people’s emotions — if boo is having a shitty day, my day is shitty. Or, for example, on Tuesday night, I came downstairs to do laundry while I was on the phone with my dad, and three of my roommates were sitting around on the couches in my basement talking. I couldn’t get the gist of the conversation between the sound of the washing machine and my dad, but I could tell something was wrong, so as soon as I hung up with him, I came back downstairs. Not ten minutes later, I had my roommate MO in my arms and was stroking her hair/shoulder while she told me all about the awful things this guy she’d been seeing did. I offered to make her favorite cookies to make her feel better.
I’m sensitive about inclusion. I won’t go so far as to call it a fear of abandonment, but for example, I broke down sobbing in July of this year when a bunch of my college friends and I were at JB’s beach house in Maine for her birthday. I’d gone upstairs for a little while after I finished eating dinner, because space at the table was limited and there were people who hadn’t eaten yet, and no one came upstairs to get me before they brought out the cake and sang happy birthday. No one realized I was missing, and that was really hurtful to me. I’m sensitive to feeling insignificant to the people who matter to me, in even the most innocuous of circumstances like that. I’m sensitive to situations that make me feel like I don’t matter.
I can be sensitive to criticism, but I think I’ve been getting better at accepting constructive criticism over the past few years. I can’t be committed to self-development without being open to outside observations on areas in which I could use some growth.