reclaiming sensitivity

I’ve been defined by my sensitivity for as long as I can remember, and the first moments I can connect to the sweet little girl in me feeling misunderstood. “You’re so sensitive” has alwawys been used as a weapon. I have many memories of feeling tears welling up inside of me straight from my chest, fighting to self-regulate to avoid another insult about my emotions being too much. Being sensitive felt taboo and like I was an alien burdened with a heart too big for my chest.

Being sensitive has been painted negatively by society and by me for way too long, so I decided to redefine it for myself, and hopefully for you too.

Sensitivity is freedom. It’s openness, it’s release, it’s authenticity. At times it has clouded my vision, but I don’t think I would find resolve without her. Sensitivity has allowed me to burrow myself in pain, wrestle for meaning and solutions, and come back up for air when I had a more solid foundation to stand on. Sometimes she stays a little too long when there’s a need for justice, but she’s the fuel to the fire to bring resolve when all of the other energy has been exhausted. Sensitivity has followed me when I needed a reminder to leave and challenged me when I needed to break myself open to someone else’s perspective. She has allowed me to open my arms to give loved ones and sometimes strangers a place to rest. Sensitivity welcomes connection. Sensitivity is love. The pleasure sensitivity has brought me is unparalleled. She has allowed me to feel that brush of fingertips from a lover a little longer, and it’s the best when she sticks around the next day when you’re still giddy from that date you didn’t want to end. Sensitivity is the lilies I buy myself every week, and she really comes out when I open my bedroom door in the morning and catch her sweetness floating through the air. She’s the rain, and she’s certainly the rainbow. Sensitivity has made me feel alive again and again and again.

I hope sensitivity finds you when you see someone who needs a helping hand, an ear, or a little grace. I hope she finds you when you lose your temper, and especially when you are feeling unseen. And most of all, I hope sensitivity finds you every time you need to rise from the ashes, find a little more of yourself, and lends you an dose of wisdom and a mountain of strength. Being sensitive isn’t easy, and it’s made the saddest days feel like the end of the world and the happy ones brighter than the sun. She has made me feel small sometimes, but she has grown me into a Goliath of a Woman. I hope you always find yourself reveling in your sensitivities, listening to them and growing from them. She’s the water for the garden you’re growing on your apartment’s little fire escape and the water within you.

We are sensitive, and we are giving her all of her power back. I love being sensitive, and I hope to always create space for you to lean into being sensitive too.

Wishing you endless Sensitive Sundays ahead!