highly sensitive people
It was Thursday, and I was screaming.
Again.
I don’t exactly have a fiery personality. When I tell my friends—even my close friends, the ones who hear about my embarrassing moments and flat-on-my-face failures—stories about losing my cool with my kids, they say they can’t imagine me ever getting angry. Apparently, the vibe I project is mellow. But had these friends been at my house on a Thursday morning circa 2007, they wouldn’t have doubted my inner dragon.
Back then I was a stay-at-home mom to three kids. At least I was on Thursdays. I worked part-time three days a week and had outside obligations on “other days.” But on Thursdays, the kids and I had nowhere to be and nothing to do at any certain time.
I’m kind of a homebody. I love spending time at home. I assumed “nowhere to be” and “nothing to do” were good things. Yet Thursdays and I never got along.
On Thursday mornings, when it was just the kids and me at home, I would brew an extra cup of coffee (nowhere to be!) and dress comfy (nothing to do!). And then—since I was home, for once—I’d take a good hard look at my house to see what needed cleaning and tidying. And once I saw it, I had to do something about it.
My house wasn’t typically a total disaster, but with three kids in a smallish space, a good bit of stuff was often lying about. I would start by cleaning the surfaces; that was fine. As I would sweep the papers and crayons and small toys—so many small toys—out from under the sofa, I could feel the tension start to rise. When I would progress into the bedroom my two young daughters shared and see, with my Thursday morning let’s-get-this-mess-under-control-right-now eyes, the tiny scraps of paper and shreds of fabric and hair ties and beads on every ever-loving surface, I would get twitchy. Then I would ask the kids for help and they all would start telling me, at the same time, why it wasn’t their fault there were no clear surfaces in the house. Meanwhile, the dog, excited by the ruckus, would inevitably start barking, escalating the family chaos.
That’s the point at which my usually mild-mannered self would become completely overwhelmed by the situation at hand and lose it. (This is the part with the screaming. It was ugly. I’ll spare you the details.)
At the time, I had no idea what was going on. Eventually, I realized that something about Thursdays put me over the edge. I thought it might be that I wasn’t cut out to be a stay-at-home mom, not even one day a week. (Nope.) I hypothesized that I lost my temper because I hated cleaning that much. (Not that, either.) It wasn’t either of these things. I finally, finally realized the “problem” wasn’t a problem at all. Instead, the cause was my highly tuned nervous system. It was completely overwhelmed by the clutter and noise of Thursdays—but I could actually do something to make the day more manageable, if I chose to do so.
If you’re reading this, the odds are about one in five that you are a highly sensitive person (HSP)—that is, you have a highly sensitive nervous system. High sensitivity is a hardwired physiological trait that affects 15–20 percent of the population, across species, not just in humans.1 These people aren’t touchy or overly emotional; high sensitivity describes people whose nervous systems are more receptive to stimuli than those of the general population. This means they are more attuned to subtleties in their surroundings and are more easily overwhelmed by highly stimulating environments. Their internal “radar” for detecting external stimuli is quite good, but it takes energy to keep that radar operational, which can be exhausting.
What You Need to Know about Highly Sensitive People
You know from experience or from reading this book that human interaction drains introverts. In a similar way, sensory input—sights, smells, sounds, emotional stimulation—drains highly sensitive people. Though this trait is often mistaken as a subset of introversion, it’s not. People of all personality types can be sensitive, whether introverts or extroverts. Although introverts are more likely to be highly sensitive, a full 30 percent of highly sensitive people are extroverts.2
I’m an HSP to the core. I avoid violent imagery (I abandoned reading Elaine Aron’s The Highly Sensitive Person on my first try because—in typical HSP fashion—I couldn’t handle the frequent references to sexual abuse). I’m very empathetic, and I feel as though my head will explode when two people try to talk to me at the same time. I have difficulty making dinner while the counter is cluttered with the morning’s dishes. I lose my mind when someone is singing while the radio is playing a different song. Watching the news makes me want to assume the fetal position and never get up.
I’m raising kids who are highly sensitive as well. Highly sensitive children (HSCs) are more prone to be bothered by scratchy clothes and itchy socks, unfamiliar tastes and loud noises, daily transitions and changes in routine. The younger an HSC is, the less they’ll be able to articulate what exactly is going on. Instead, their baffled parent, friend, or caregiver will be left wondering what is different about them, why they cry all the time, why they can’t just chill out.
What Sets HSPs Apart
If you’re highly sensitive, you’ll probably recognize yourself in the description of an HSP immediately. HSPs—who have a strong tendency for self-reflection—easily resonate with their own description. From childhood, they may have startled easily, struggled with big changes of any sort, hated noisy places, been exceptionally picky about the texture of their food, cried when bothered by the seams in their socks or the tags in their T-shirts, and seemed strongly attuned to the feelings of others. As adults, they are strikingly intuitive, inclined toward perfectionism, sensitive to pain, and apt to notice subtleties in their environments. High sensitivity manifests in a wide variety of ways. While all of the above traits are telltale signs of high sensitivity, not all HSPs react to the same stimuli.
What sets HSPs apart? For one, the brains of HSPs process information, such as that brought in through the five senses, more thoroughly than nonsensitive types. They also process experiences more deeply than those who lack the trait. They dwell on things more and longer than the rest of the population. They catch subtle cues that others miss. Their emotional reaction is stronger—to the positive and negative.
But it’s not just the brains of HSPs that are different. Their whole bodies seem uniquely designed to detect more information. Their reflexes are faster; they’re more sensitive to pain, medicines, and stimulants; they have more allergies than nonsensitive types and more active immune systems. Compared to nonsensitives, their reactive systems seem turbocharged.
I love the way Elaine Aron describes highly sensitive people in her book The Highly Sensitive Child, drawing on a childhood visit to an orange-packing plant. She writes, “I liked the ingenious invention that moved the oranges down a shaking conveyor belt until they fell into one of three sized slots—small, medium, or large. I now use that experience as a way to describe the brains of HSCs. Instead of having three slots for processing what comes down the conveyor belt to them, they have fifteen slots, for making very fine distinctions. And all goes well until too many oranges come down the belt at once. Then you have a huge jam up.”3
Those “jam ups” happen when an HSP becomes overstimulated. For highly sensitive people, the world often feels as though it’s just too much. Too overwhelming. They’re never just a little hungry or a little tired. They feel things strongly. Everything is a big deal. And though all of us can be overstimulated at one time or another, HSPs are especially prone to it. When HSPs get overwhelmed, their overworked nervous systems shut down because they can’t take the strain any longer.
Common Triggers for Highly Sensitive People
While different sorts of HSPs have various sensitivities, there are certain common themes.
HSPs frequently dislike loud noises and nonstop noise of any sort. This could mean rock concerts, the buzz of a cocktail party, or coffee hour at church. Similarly, talking for a long period of time can be exceptionally draining.
It’s not possible to skirt every trigger, but being cognizant of their triggers helps HSPs not be surprised by them and allows sensitive types to avoid or moderate such triggers when possible. But it’s not until HSPs understand what high sensitivity means—and how it affects them and those around them—that they can begin to actually do something about it.
Putting This Information to Work in Your Own Life
Once you understand high sensitivity, you can recognize almost instantly if you—or someone you love, live with, or work with—is an HSP. If you’re not sure, take one of Elaine Aron’s wonderful free assessments.4 Armed with a little knowledge, you can be more prepared to deal with your highly sensitive responses to the world.
Even if you are an HSP and don’t feel as though you need to take drastic action, the diagnosis is its own sort of cure. Simple understanding brings instant relief. You understand that you’re not alone, and you’re not crazy. And in addition to bringing relief, knowing you are an HSP can bring a new appreciation for not only the hardships of bearing the trait but also the benefits.
Now, let’s take a look at how to move forward.
What You Can and Can’t Change about High Sensitivity
A common thread throughout this book is to identify what you can and cannot change about yourself so you can make smart decisions moving forward.
The first thing you need to know about highly sensitive people is that their nervous systems are what they are. People can grow and develop in countless ways, but there is no volume knob they can access to turn down their nervous systems’ naturally elevated response to stimuli. This trait is hardwired.
This means that they’re probably going to cry more than nonsensitive types, no matter what. They’re going to be more sensitive to criticism than you might see as “reasonable.” They’re going to be reluctant to see that new slasher movie or hit up all the roller coasters at the local amusement park. They don’t want to eat at that new popular but noisy restaurant in town. Many corporate team-building activities will feel like “too much” for them. They can’t change these things about themselves.
It’s not possible for HSPs to avoid every trigger or always get what they need (if only!). But that doesn’t mean—I’m speaking as an HSP here—we have no control over the things that drive us bonkers.
Let me offer a personal example. I’ve long known that when all four of my kids are talking to me at the same time, it burns my fuel at about eighty times the usual rate. All those voices and ideas are way too much input for my HSP brain to sort. (Remember those oranges?) Kids make noise; I have four of them. I can’t change that (nor would I want to—most days). But I can change how I understand and respond to that situation. The problem isn’t my kids; it’s the noise and the way it’s coming at me fast and furious. I’ve found everyone is happier when I ask (tell, demand, require) my kids to speak to me one at a time before I reach “situation critical level,” instead of flipping my lid and screaming at them to “just stop talking already because I’m losing my ever-loving mind!” Not that I’ve ever done that. Ahem.
I can’t change my nature, but that doesn’t mean I can’t change the situation.
Giving HSPs What They Need
The bad news for HSPs is that they have many things draining their fuel tanks. The good news is that they can control some, maybe even many, of those factors.
I’ve lost count of how many emails I’ve gotten from people saying something like “I thought I wasn’t cut out for family life, but it turns out I’m just an HSP. What a relief!” Time after time, these people have told me they were afraid that something was wrong with them because no one else seemed to react to everyday life events the way they did (that is, strongly). Once they understood high sensitivity and recognized it in themselves, they no longer felt as though they were a freak or all alone or damaged. Knowing they were dealing with something both specific and manageable—not to mention, not in their heads—gave them a new sense of hope. They were able to develop an action plan to make sure they got what they needed moving forward.
And what do HSPs need?
More than anything, HSPs need white space, both literal and metaphorical. In a sea of input, HSPs need some rest from the tidal wave of sensory input. This is so their brains can sort through the backload of oranges to clear those inevitable jam ups.
Many HSPs intuitively know what they need, but for others, it’s helpful to see a punch list of the qualities they would do well to seek out in their day-to-day life. The following are high-priority items for HSPs.
Particular Concerns about Parenting a Highly Sensitive Child
It may take a while for parents to realize that some typical activities most kids consider fun are torture for highly sensitive children. My HSC hated the echo-y indoor play places at fast-food restaurants and the animated movies from Pixar and Disney every other kid seemed to love. To my dismay, one of the places my young HSC hated most passionately was children’s church. When he was young, the large evangelical church we attended had an equally large children’s program. The children’s room was packed with throngs of people, exciting games, blaring music, and flashing lights. My friends’ nonsensitive children loved it.
But this environment that nonsensitive children experienced as fun was literally painful to the sensitive child. For every nine kids having a blast, one was huddled in the corner with his hands over his ears. The place was overwhelming. The people, the lights, and the noise combined for a nonstop assault on their senses.
If you are the parent of an HSC, be aware that your child’s specific needs must be managed just as any other highly sensitive person’s needs would be, but the fact that it’s your child brings an extra sense of responsibility.
If you suspect your child is highly sensitive, an official assessment (such as Elaine Aron’s good and free one, which I mentioned earlier) will help you identify your child’s specific triggers. In most cases, that knowledge combined with a hefty dose of common sense and ingenuity will help you and your child tremendously. Professional attention is not usually required, although it never hurts to ask your pediatrician if you’re concerned. High sensitivity is a natural and normal trait.
You can be a great parent for your HSC whether or not you’re highly sensitive yourself. As we’ve seen at my house, each pairing has pros and cons. Because I’m highly sensitive, I understand what my HSCs are dealing with, and I intuitively know how to respond in certain situations. I have empathy up the wazoo for their struggles. My husband, Will, is not highly sensitive, and he has unique strengths when it comes to parenting our HSCs, not despite his nonsensitivity but because of it. (Important note: When I say “nonsensitive,” I don’t mean the man doesn’t have feelings. I just mean he doesn’t feel things the way the highly sensitive do.) He brings grounding and balance to our highly sensitive children. When the kids are punching my highly sensitive buttons, Will isn’t fazed. And because of his nonsensitive nature, he prods our HSCs to try new things much more than I do.
All parents advocate for their children, but parents of an HSC need to learn what their individual child needs and educate the people who regularly interact with them. This is usually easier for parents who are not highly sensitive themselves. The younger the child is, the more it’s appropriate to shield them from the triggers that drive them bananas, whether that means buying tag-free clothing or turning down the blaring music in their brother’s room or keeping the playroom at least a little bit tidy or not leaving the kitchen counter continuously buried under a three-inch pile of homework and art projects, aka visual clutter. So my HSCs know what’s coming next, I’ve asked our babysitter to let them first read to themselves the ending of a book the sitter is reading aloud, if they’re asking to do so. I’ve asked my mom not to run four errands in a row with my kids in tow. And I’ve even spoken with my children’s teachers about not making my HSC participate in activities like finger painting with condiments in class (a real example and one that gets my gag reflex going every time I think about it—talk about sensory overload!).
Parents can teach their highly sensitive children how to move in the world, equipping them to get what they need while mitigating their triggers. You and your child can learn to speak the language of high sensitivity. My HSCs, who used to feel generally flustered on a regular basis without really knowing why, have learned to specifically identify what is troubling them. They’ve learned to ask themselves if it might be the noise making them uncomfortable, or the bright lights, or the seams of their socks, or even playground drama at school, and to voice their concerns when appropriate.
Understanding is the greatest gift any parent can give their highly sensitive child. Don’t pretend they’re not different; they already know they are. To thrive, they need to acknowledge, understand, and appreciate what makes them unique—and they need you to do these things too.
The Upside of High Sensitivity
High sensitivity is a mixed bag. Sometimes HSPs feel as though they would trade places with a nonsensitive type in a heartbeat. What they wouldn’t give to be able to take things in stride for once instead of always experiencing everything so strongly! But high sensitivity has its perks, and I don’t think many HSPs would sacrifice them without a fight.
The bad news for HSPs is that their nervous systems are extremely sensitive. But there’s good news too: their nervous systems are extremely sensitive. If you’re an HSP, it may be hard to believe this is a good thing—at least on the days when the world is overwhelming you and you’re fantasizing about moving to a cabin in the woods in Vermont by yourself—but the sensitivity that sometimes makes you want to run and hide can be a tremendous strength. Experiencing more does have advantages. This trait makes you a kind and caring friend, an empathetic and wise counselor, an insightful employee, and a spiritual seeker.
HSPs can be intense. They are passionate by nature, and can make others feel their passion too. They have laser-like focus and dedicate boatloads of attention to the things they care about. They’re able to explore issues in depth, seeing the nuances that others miss or choose to ignore. They’re extremely perceptive, picking up on all sorts of things nonsensitive types miss. They are really good at deep conversation and are eager to explore meaningful topics. And they’re creative, able to turn their hyper-awareness within to generate new ideas. When we think of high sensitivity in that light, it sounds like a superpower.
As for me, I still have days when I have a hard time believing my high sensitivity is truly “normal,” such as when a cheesy pop song makes me cry even though I objectively think it’s stupid. Or the grating department store elevator music pushes me toward the melting point. Or my übercluttered kitchen counters threaten to overwhelm me. But learning more about my nervous system has helped me understand that although I’m outnumbered by nonsensitive types, I’m certainly not alone. And I’m just fine the way I am. Understanding myself has also helped me stop screaming on Thursday mornings—and for that, I am grateful. Wouldn’t you be too?