There was a night at work that was particularly stressful for me. It felt like I couldn’t get anything right and everyone was annoyed with me. It took everything in my power not to burst into tears at any given moment.
On top of that, one of my bosses was in a horrible mood. He kept pushing my buttons for no reason at all. He was slowly but surely knocking me down little by little until I felt about 2 inches tall.
Then, he looked me dead in the eyes and said,
“You’re too sensitive.”
Stunned, I replied, “What do you expect me to do about that?”
Without an ounce of sarcasm, he said,
“Toughen the f**k up.”
It felt like my stomach fell through my butt. It was the final straw that made me crumble. I couldn’t just start crying in front of him because that would only prove his point even further. So I had to wait until I clocked out and got in my car to break down.
But then, after I had calmed down a couple days later, I was able to do some introspection. So what if I am sensitive? Am I ok with that? Is there anything inherently wrong with being sensitive? Could it be possible that being sensitive might be one of my strengths?
Being sensitive allows me to have a level of empathy that few people can achieve. My fragile heart is skillful at resonating with people on their deepest levels. I am able to look at and talk to people and see them for who they really are.
I like all those things about myself. Actually, I love those things about myself. I wouldn’t change them for anything.
So I decided that I’m not too much of anything. I’m also not too little of anything either. I’m me. I like me for the first time in a long time, and if that means I’m “too” sensitive, then I’m choosing to be alright with that.
Featured photo for this post by Hannah Leigh Imagery