Being hyper-sensitive to how other people think and feel can be a super-power, and also a curse. For as long as I can remember I’ve been able to sense the emotions of a room of people without anyone saying a word. I can sense what is needed from me in any given situation to improve the environment. Whether that’s removing the tension to avoid an argument or providing light relief to increase the mood.
In a work environment I can help to create harmony within a group to help with creativity and productivity and I can also create space for people to feel safe and share with me their truths. This often leads to incredible insights and also sharing of secrets and burdens.
I often enjoy these scenarios but they can also absorb a lot of my energy if other people’s traumas are shared. In my early twenties I didn’t recognise how these situations would impact me until it was too late.
The other side to being hyper-sensitive could often have a significant impact on my self-worth. I grew up worrying too much about what other people thought about me, which created a lot of toxic behaviours. I felt that everyone had to like me and if they didn’t then it was my fault and that there was something wrong with me. I would go out of my way to make people like me and I could always sense when something was off.
I knew this journey wasn’t going to be easy, and that proved to be the case for me.
The moment I posted that first message about my hand on Social Media, I felt sick.
Have you ever felt so awkward that you have to put a cushion over your face to avoid what you’re seeing? Or maybe you’ve just remembered doing something embarrassing after waking from a night out?
That self-torture – thinking about what happened – those are regular feeling that I’ve had right throughout my life, and, right then, in that moment, you’ll do anything to avoid it.
That was how my mind and stomach felt, toiling away. The feeling in this situation was excruciating, it felt like I was fighting against an imaginary death grip, as though Voldemort, Sauron, and Palpatine were right there ready to extinguish life. My life.
I could do nothing but close my eyes and hold my head in my hands, thinking… “Tony, what the actual f*ck have you just done?”
There was only one thing I could do, I did the wise thing and threw my phone out of reach.
I was honestly that worried about what other people thought, I felt sick.
Those thoughts – “What an idiot”, “What a loser”, “What a freak”. My mind wasn’t a healthy place to be in that moment and I definitely wasn’t proud to be unique.
For you reading this, I hope your thoughts aren’t as harsh as mine were at that time, but I recognise that they can often tell you things that aren’t helpful. For me, there were people I had known for over two decades that hadn’t known about my hand at all, and many others who had certainly never seen it.
A tightness in my chest started to grow. This was to become a familiar sensation over the coming weeks. I didn’t know what it was to begin with, I just knew I didn’t like it. It crossed my mind more than once to just delete the post and forget all about it. No one would notice, would they?
I did everything I could to occupy my mind and distract me. Nothing worked. All I could think about was my phone. What did people say? How bad was the car crash?
No, I can’t do it. I don’t want to know. It’s going to be bad.
1am rolled around, and I still couldn’t sleep. I’d had enough, it was late and I had work in the morning. I had to look.
I grabbed my phone, and right there on the screen was a WhatsApp. I thought I’d turned all notifications off but this one had popped through.
“Just donated to your Just Giving appeal Tony - huge respect to you mate, incredible stuff!”
Oh shit. That message took me by surprise and the weight on my chest instantly lifted. Other emotions came flooding through too.
This gave me the confidence to check my other messages:
“Hey Tony, I’ve been thinking about you quite a lot today! You’re an amazing person doing an amazing thing, and you should quite rightly feel proud of everything that makes you who you are. Keep it up mate.”
“We’re all individual Tony and nobody should feel the need to hide or feel unsafe. Congratulations on taking a significant step in being more comfortable with being you!”
“I have always been proud to call you a friend. You will never meet a more supportive and friendly person and it was a pleasure to work with you for many years.”
“I knew when you spoke to me about your future plans that you would flourish in your new surroundings, and you are certainly an inspiration to us all.”
Not for the last time, I reminded myself why I was doing it: For me, for my kids, for those following in my footsteps.
Why join as a paid Subscriber?
My whole ethos is to empower those living with a difference to thrive, be happy, and maximise their potential. That could be you, your friends, your family or colleagues!
Every subscriber helps me to share more of the science and true personal stories behind why people hide who they are, the impact that this has on their health and wellbeing, and what can be done to help. All within content like this:
