How to Explain Being an HSP to Your Partner

When I first learned about what it meant to be an HSP and an introvert, it was life changing. But I had to find a way to explain it to the person who has to deal with me the most, my partner. How could I explain that there’s nothing wrong with me, but that I’m just different, and my desires and needs are just as valid as a non-HSPs?

Here’s how I explained introversion to him:

“You know how you love to go to parties, go to the bar, and hang out with people?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, let’s say someone doesn’t like doing those things. How is their desire NOT to party any less valid than a person who DOES want to do these things? How is a desire to be alone less ok than the desire NOT to be alone?”

I try to use the same argument when I’m sick of the TV being on but he refuses to turn it off. It rarely works. (“My desire for quiet is as valid as your desire for noise.“)

Here’s a way to try to explain HSP-ism. Let’s use the scenario of going for a walk, and being cold, and unable to stop focusing on the fact that you are cold.

“Do you think different people can feel pain differently?”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“What if I told you that when I am cold, it physically hurts me. I can’t ignore being cold because it gives me pain. And just because you don’t feel pain when you are cold doesn’t mean that I don’t. It’s possible that the cold actually affects us in different ways.”

Basically, my tactic is to show that both sets of feelings are valid, and neither is wrong. It sort-of worked. How do you get your partner to understand what you need as an HSP?

My Heart Still Hurts from Something that Happened When I was 5…

When I was a little girl, maybe 5 years old, I visited my aunt’s house for a family get-together. She lived next to a small pond. There were lots of family members there, and all of us kids spent most of our time standing and sitting on a giant wooden raft that floated around the little pond.

When my mom and I first arrived at my aunt’s house, my grandma was there, and she called me over and gave me a doll. I still remember it. It was a unique-looking cloth doll, maybe something you’d get at a craft show. I loved it. It was one of the only times I remember getting a gift just for me from my grandma (mainly because she had so many grandkids and we weren’t that close). I was so happy and thought it was so nice that she thought about me and bought it just for me. She didn’t give it to me because she had to (like for Christmas or a birthday). It was just because she cared about me…and loved me.

Later that day, I went out on the raft with the other kids, and somehow, the doll went missing. I assume I accidentally dropped it in the pond, even though I had tucked it into my life jacket. I was devastated. My grandma had gone out of her way to give me this gift and I lost it. I remember begging my mom if there was a way we could somehow search the pond for the doll. And I can’t believe that even today, my eyes well up as I’m typing this. All over a doll!

But it was not just a doll. I was crushed. To me, her giving me that gift was like a gesture of love and caring. And by losing it, it was like I threw that love away-like I treated it like it wasn’t important. At least, that’s how it felt in my 5-year-old heart.

The truth is, when someone does something personal and unexpectedly kind for me, it touches me very deeply. It’s hard to admit it sometimes, because it makes me sound soft or weak. Even small gestures can affect me greatly. It wasn’t until I learned about being Highly Sensitive that it all made sense.

How to tell if you work with a Highly Sensitive Person

the beautiful world of cubicles

This great article by HSP expert Elaine Aron explains how to identify HSPs in the workplace. I wish some of my former managers had been this forward-thinking! She recommends using the acronym DOES to sniff out an HSP. Check it out:

Depth of processing. Does this person often come up with unusual, creative ideas? Is this person unusually conscientious (aware of consequences of failing to do things well)? Does this person prefer to decide things slowly, mull things over? Are his or her decisions often right? You might also ask if this person has thought about the long term goals of their part of the organization, or why something did or didn’t work. If the person feels safe to comment honestly, and many HSPs will be cautious about this, you will probably hear a surprisingly long, detailed answer.

[Read more…]

Deadlines, Schedules, and Commitment Stress Me Out

Yesterday I was talking to my mom on the phone and she described a super-HSP moment.

She was a regular during the drop-in times at the local tennis club. One day, the club announced that instead of just showing up to play (the definition of “drop-in”), members had to schedule themselves for drop-in time.

As soon as this was announced, my mom instantly felt turned off. What she liked about drop-in tennis was that the decision to go was up to her. There was no obligation-even though she ended up going almost every week. She didn’t have to answer to anyone if she didn’t show. No commitment, no pressure. And now that she felt she had to commit, she didn’t want to.

As she explained this to me on the phone, I couldn’t help but chuckle, because I completely understood what she was coming from as an HSP.

I think this is also why I dislike working in a traditional office environment. At one job, I had to log in and log out of a computer when I took lunch, so my lunch times could be tabulated. I couldn’t stand feeling like every minute of my day was being counted. For example, if I took an extra 10 minutes of lunch time, why couldn’t I just stay 10 minutes longer at the end of the day? Being held to such a strict schedule made me feel trapped and controlled.

Consider about what we know about HSPs. We don’t like feeling controlled, we don’t like having too much to do, and we don’t like feeling overwhelmed. When I have something to do on my schedule, I can’t stop thinking about it all day. Even if it’s just one thing, I base my whole day on it. And having MORE than one thing scheduled in a day? I instantly feel my stress rise.

Having a clear day with nothing to do feels like a dream. No stress, no obligations, and I can make my own decisions. Ahhhh.

Eating outside is overrated

It gets really hot in New York in the summer. 90 degrees isn’t unusual. When I lived and worked in Westchester County, just outside NYC, my coworkers always seemed to want to eat lunch in the courtyard outside our workplace. Even when it was like 90 degrees and humid.

most people think this looks like a pleasant lunch. it looks like bug bites, sunburn, and sweat to me.

I think their reasoning was that since they were stuck inside all day, lunch was their one time to escape and be outside. I understand that, but I also don’t want to sweat in my nice work clothes when an air conditioned building is right next to me. Does. not. compute.

I remember one time opening the door to go outside and it felt like air from a furnace hit me in the face. “You guys, it is really hot outside… are you sure you don’t want to eat inside with the a/c?” came my whiny plea. No, they inexplicably just HAD to be outside. Even though we were suffering the entire time.

Then there were the bees. There was a bee problem in the courtyard at my job, and everyone knew about it. Why sit outside, sweating in a cloud of bees, when you don’t have to?

And when I was a kid, my dad built a neat wooden picnic table for our front yard. I think the idea was that we would eat out there occasionally. I dreaded putting my legs under that table, wondering what spiders and bugs would be having their way with my ankles. I was always on the lookout for ants and flies around our food. Why can’t we just eat inside, where there are no bugs?? (if that sounds whiny, it’s because it is whiny.)

So, anytime I’m given the opportunity to eat or work outside, most of the time, I’d prefer to be inside. Sorry. I can’t help it. I kind of hate eating outside.

Buzzfeed did a series on why eating outdoors sucks.

You Might be a Highly Sensitive Person if…

Bright light

could someone please kill those lights?

Why Don’t People Know When to be Quiet?

So I’m working on my laptop in a huge public library. It’s a giant room filled with 4-seater tables filled with people on laptops or studying.

I was the only one at my table when three people came and sat down. No big deal.

 

It became apparent that two of the people were students and the third, an older lady, was their teacher or tutor.

The tutor proceeded to talk, NONSTOP, I mean, not even pausing for a breath of air, for 20 minutes straight, all while the two students ignored her and tried to do their work. She was speaking a different language, so I was able to tune it out for a while.

But as the minutes passed, I felt myself getting more and more annoyed.

Then I look around and I swear, every other table seemed to be occupied by peaceful, quiet people. Of course I was stuck at this table with this insufferable person.

I felt the annoyance rising higher and higher in me, like a strengthening wave, until I couldn’t stand it. When this happens, I recognize that I’m overreacting to the situation, but I can’t help how I feel. I can’t stop the feeling. I gathered up my things and found another table with an open seat. I took a deep breath and immediately felt a little better.

I thought about how something so insignificant bothered me so much and how most “normal” people probably would not have been bothered by the talking tutor. Why do such small things bother me? I wish I wasn’t this way. But, unfortunately, I can’t help it.

Second-Guessing Decisions

“I’d like the spaghetti carbonara, please,” I told the waiter.

No sooner had the waiter turned his back when I was mumbling to my husband Jim, “Damn it. I should have gotten the dish with the red sauce instead. Argh!!”

This is soooo stuuuuuupidly common with me. I regret probably 75% of my restaurant food orders.

Why? Because HSPs are cautious decision-makers who weigh every piece of information before making a choice. Sometimes it takes us longer than “normal” to make choices. And when me, I’m usually still weighing all the information even after I’ve been pressed to make my decision.

Here’s what’s going on in my brain (and probably what’s going on in my husband’s brain) when choosing something to eat at a restaurant:

Me: Do I want pasta or meat? Will pasta be too filling? Should I get red sauce or white sauce? White sauce is so bad for you. But I haven’t had it in so long! Chicken or ham? Maybe I should get something less expensive. I want the chicken, but only if it’s not breaded. I wonder if I can get it without peppers? I should get something with more vegetables.

Him: Steak sounds good. I’m getting steak.

Working at Night = Complete Control

I’ve always thought of myself as a “night” person. Not because I like to party, but because I like staying up late after everyone else in my house is asleep.

Last night, when I was typing away at 2am, I realized why I’m a night owl.

Because late at night is the only time of the day when everything is completely quiet and peaceful. There is no one else around me. I can completely control my environment-like no TV. I have free reign over my house to really be free.

During the day, my husband knows to leave me alone when I’m working, but there is still a part of me that knows he is around and I can’t totally let myself get into my work. It’s not his fault, it’s me. When he’s asleep in bed, I have no obligations (real or perceived) to hang out with him or anything. (I have a hard time dealing when I know people are waiting for me.)

I suppose early morning would be similar in this regard. I know people who like to wake up at the crack of dawn for similar reasons.

So mystery solved… now I know why I like working so late at night. Because I have the world to myself.

The Day “I Lost it” Because I was Overstimulated

This is a hard story for me to tell.

I am embarrassed and ashamed of it. It’s the one time in my life that I’ve had an outburst and lost my cool in public.

I was hanging out with my husband and a group of 6+ friends. We were all sitting around a large outdoor table at a restaurant, just chatting and hanging out on a nice day.

The day before, my husband and I had hung out with friends during the day, then gone out to a bar at night with other friends. So it was basically like we’d had 3 social events in a row over the span of two days. Before we got to the restaurant, I had made a comment to him that it was too much for me, and that maybe he should go alone. But I didn’t push it too much because I didn’t have a REAL reason to not go be with our friends. These were people we do things with all the time; what would be my reason for not wanting to see them? That I had “too much social interaction” over the weekend? Most people would not understand that. Plus, I did not want to hold my husband back from having a good time with our friends just because I wanted alone time.

So. We are sitting at the table with our friends, and I’m not saying much. Then my husband asks me something in front of everyone that triggered me. I don’t remember what it was. I think he asked me a question I had already told him the answer to previously.

Again, this is hard for me to admit.

I completely snapped at him, pushed back my chair angrily, and stormed off. Away from the table with all my friends. Like a fucking crazy person.

Even as I’m walking away, the rational side of my brain is going “What the hell did you just do? You look like a crazy person! Where the hell are you going to go now after storming off?” and the other side of my brain is going, “I don’t give a shit what happens right now.”

I walk out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk, which just happened to be along the ocean. I walked there for quite a while. I thought to myself, “Is this what it feels like to be crazy? I can’t even trust my own mind. Now I know what people who have mental problems feel like. They can’t trust their own thoughts.” This was a scary feeling. I don’t think I even cried. But I hated myself so much at that moment. It was a dark time.

I knew I had to go back to the restaurant at some point. I didn’t have my phone with me, and I’m sure my husband was wondering what was going on. How the heck was I going to go back after my outburst? Part of me didn’t even care. I decided to walk back and act like nothing happened.

I walked back in and sat down and my husband was gone. He had gone looking for me. My friends said a few words about how they tried to find me, but thankfully, they didn’t say much. They went on to a different topic. I just sat there quietly. My husband came back and we left soon after. I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t even talk about it, other than apologizing to him. He, being the understanding man he is, said, “I should have known it was too much for you. You said you had too much social interaction this weekend. Next time I will pay better attention.” That was the exact, perfect response, for which I was grateful.

I also learned that I need to pay better attention to myself. If I’m feeling like I don’t want any more social contact, I have to listen to my instinct, even if it seems really lame. Who knows why I “lost it” that day. It was irrational, for sure. It was scary to feel so out of control. But if I pay more attention to my feelings, then hopefully it won’t happen again.

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