Sensitive doesn’t always mean quiet
Read me in: 2 minutes, 56 seconds
I’ve noticed that a lot of professionals catering to the sensitive types among us gravitate to calming imagery. Lots of neutral colours. Gentle tidy fonts. So. Much. Beige (seriously, what’s with all the beige?). In essence, they give us the visual equivalent of a padded room.
Honestly, I see how they got there, and I can see the good intentions behind the design choice: “don’t overwhelm the sensitive folk!” But what I don't see reflected is my experience of being highly sensitive.
Really BIG feels
In my collected experience (my own as well as gathered from friends, family and clients) being sensitive does not feel like a tranquil beige room. It feels like big wave surfing. Or a dark and wild forest waiting to be explored. It feels like a roller coaster ride or bungee dive. It’s singing from the mountains tops AND crying on the bathroom floor (and everything in between). I’m sure some of us come out of that experience feeling like: “gosh, I could really use a tranquil beige room right now.” And if that’s you, great! I celebrate people knowing what they need, and maybe what you need most is respite from this overstimulating world. But I want to open another door just in case…
What if what you really need is to embrace the big-ness?
My experience of being sensitive is of constantly being told I’m too much. I hear this from my clients too. One told me that as a kid she was always dancing on the edge of how much of herself she could be before losing the love and support of her family. If we’re to feel understood as sensitive people, we need to know our bigness and wildness are welcome.
Getting off the road to self-abandonment
When our wild emotional landscape is framed as something to be feared and avoided, we can’t help but reject it and push it away to make sure we are still loved and included. And so, we lose the power and beauty that comes with feeling. The vibration of our emotions as they are touched by life is muted and dulled. Holding ourselves and our feelings requires strength. Like muscle tone in our core that disappears with inactivity, the more we shrink to avoid the world or protect it from us and our intensity, the less we can tolerate ourselves and any sort of stimulus.
A fine balance
Everyone who has tried to raise a plant knows that each one has its sweet spot. Just the right amount of water, sunshine and nutrients. In trauma healing and nervous system work, we talk about a window of tolerance. Living well as a sensitive person is about getting very familiar and comfortable with our window of tolerance. Our needs as a living creature.
How much can we push our tolerance without becoming overwhelmed and collapsing?
What sort of rest and nourishment do we need?
What’s the sweet spot in our window of tolerance for growth?
For healing and recovery?
For building strength and resilience?
And what does all of this look like for you today?
Sometimes it can look like peace and quiet. Other times it might look like mad dancing in the kitchen to music that matches the volume and tone of our feelings and lets them unfold to their full size.
How is it going with finding your balance? Where are you on your journey?
I’m here if you need me.