The adjective ‘sensitive’ is a tricky one. Its meaning can shift from the positive (‘he’s so caring and sensitive’), to the negative (‘you’re being over-sensitive’), to the faintly patronising (‘she’s a sensitive little soul’) in the blink of an eye.
But I’ll admit I have a vested interest in trying to figure out what it really means to be sensitive since it’s a word that people have used to describe me all my life.
My mum recalls the five-year-old who cried during Disney movies and all of my old school reports read with some variation of ‘Kate is rather shy…’
When I think about it, I probably have to agree. I am sensitive. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t find aspects of the world bruising – from casual, thoughtless comments that hurt my feelings far more than they should, to a genuine dislike of situations that are too loud or busy or bright.
It’s hardly an unusual event in our house for me to cry at the evening news, but if I’m honest there are days when I’m just as likely to cry at a sad advert, too.
And I’m a chugger’s dream, reaching for my credit card faster than you can say ‘sick donkeys.’
Even as an adult, I’m careful about the films and TV shows I choose to watch… trial and error has taught me that temporary entertainment isn’t worth the nightmares that follow anything too graphic or brutal. And though I love music, a sad song can leave me with a disproportionate sense of melancholy.
It’s strange because as I write this, I feel the need to qualify these statements… to prove somehow that I’m not just a weepy mess – that I can be tough and funny and brave, too.
Maybe because on balance, the negative definitions of sensitivity seem to be more prevalent than the positive ones right now – and sensitivity is too often equated with weakness.
It’s particularly hard to embrace this label when its derivatives have become the ultimate insult in this post-Brexit world… am I a snowflake I wonder? Too easily upset and fragile to function as a proper adult?
I’ve wrestled with this idea, but ultimately, I reject it. Being sensitive doesn’t have to mean being entitled or demanding, insisting people tiptoe around you to avoid accidentally giving offence.
Sensitivity can mean the strength to remain connected to the reality of the world, despite a constant onslaught of horror and bad news.
Sensitivity can mean that you’re the person in the room who notices when someone else is upset and can, therefore, do something about it.
Sensitivity means seeing the beauty and the ugliness of the world around you in equal measures – yes, there are lows but there are highs, too.
A few years ago, I came across the theory of the Highly Sensitive Person and it’s been genuinely helpful in terms of making my peace with this particular label.
Its proponent, Elaine Aron, argues that innate sensitivity is a key trait for 15-20 per cent of the population – and that it includes features such as a rich inner life, a powerful imagination and the ability to recognise and appreciate life’s subtleties, as well as the more obvious challenges.
She also makes the key point that sensitivity is valued differently in different cultures – but that these external assessments don’t change its inherent worth.
My husband now jokes that her book on HSPs is essentially an instruction manual for being married to me… and actually, it probably has helped him to understand some of my sensitive ‘quirks’ more clearly.
In fact, I now realise that some of my best qualities – my empathy and my creativity – stem from my sensitivity too. But there can be an odd disconnect between this and a lifelong instruction to ‘stop being so sensitive.’
Ultimately, labels can be destructive when we feel that they are somehow restricting us, defining us against our will, or worse, passing some sort of value judgement. But learning to accept that sensitivity can be a strength has allowed me to feel in control of my identity again.
Yes, I’m sensitive, but I choose how to express that. And I choose whether to make it an issue – or a superpower.
Labels
Labels is an exclusive series that hears from individuals who have been labelled – whether that be by society, a job title, or a diagnosis. Throughout the project, writers will share how having these words ascribed to them shaped their identity — positively or negatively — and what the label means to them.
If you would like to get involved please email jess.austin@metro.co.uk
MORE: My Label and Me: Adults regularly dismiss me as an oversensitive teenager
MORE: My Label and Me: I felt like the only geek in the world, until I went to Cambridge
MORE: My Label and Me: A complete stranger looked straight at me and called me disgusting
source https://metro.co.uk/2019/10/31/my-label-and-me-i-refuse-to-believe-being-sensitive-is-a-bad-thing-10435691/
0 Comments