Early life as an HSP
Growing up was harder for me than it seemed to be for others. I knew I was sensitive or different from an early age. I had a normal-ish upbringing, with normal-ish parents, friends, and experiences. In hindsight, the concept of highly sensitive children, who feel everything on a deeper level was not yet understood much (or at all) in the 80’s. One of the challenges I would face throughout my life was learning how to fit in, in a world that seemed more overwhelming than it should be. I only recently discovered that being sensitive or intuitive wasn’t just a mood or state for me — it is a key part of who I am.
For background, those of us who become overstimulated at a young age often develop disassociation as a defense mechanism. All energy must be directed toward keeping the world from intruding. The whole world becomes dangerous as our senses become flooded with sounds, lights, worries, etc.
For me, this scenario played out most severely when I started grade school. I was afraid to be away from my mom and the safety of the less-stimulating environment of our small home. The memory of being stuck around 20ish obnoxious and rowdy 6-year-olds still haunts me. I remember one occasion when my mom was walking me into the building and I got as far as the hallway just inside school, which was also just outside my classroom. There was something about the walk in that day, the noise or smell of the building, that caused me to panic. My mother tried her best to calm me down and encourage me to go in where my friends would be waiting for me. Eventually, I made it in, though I don’t remember what the turning point was or how I came to accept the daily pressures of the outside world intruding on my senses.
My fondest memory from 2nd grade was when I was selected as the special helper, receiving permission to stay inside during recess and wait patiently for chicken eggs to hatch. Wouldn’t everyone choose to stay inside watching immobile eggs in an incubator rather than play outside with friends? Apparently not. And this was yet another thing that made me different. I loved sitting inside in the quiet classroom and holding the soft little creatures when they hatched. I felt more at peace being around animals than I did being around most people from a very early age. They were comforting energetically in a way that I had not experienced from humans, free of criticism and judgement and more in tune with the frequencies of nature.
Along with the ability to pick up on subtleties with people, I have always had a deep connection with nature and the environment. I have always been able to feel the emotion of living things and am often comforted by flowers, rocks, and animals, in particular. I never understood the appeal of eating animals and was unable to make sense of the idea that we loved animals called pets, but ate animals called dinner. Weren’t they actually all the same thing? This inner knowing was very deeply rooted in my being, and I remember consciously trying to work this out in my head by the age of 5. My mother, bless her heart, became adept at making multiple meals. When I turned 12, I made a conscious decision to be a vegetarian. I had always known this to be my truth, but now having this label to identify with and explain a part of “who I am” to my peers and family was liberating in a sense. It was easier to use this label than to explain to people why I couldn’t bring myself to eat animals. Intuitively, it was not in alignment with the mainstream narrative that we need to eat meat for sustenance. As energetic and conscious beings, we were actually the same. Apparently this profound knowingness was not in alignment with what most other kids were thinking at the time.
I remember reading the book “Koko’s Kitten” in the 80’s and falling in love with Koko the gorilla. The book explains how Koko learned sign language and was able to express her feelings through signing. The gentleness of this beautiful creature with her kitten was absolutely breathtaking to me. Koko experienced profound sadness after her little kitten died, and this confirmed my feelings that animals are capable of emotions and process feelings much like humans do, even if they are unable to speak via conventional methods. I watched Koko’s story throughout my life and recall fondly my knowingness from a young age that we are all part of something bigger. Koko is the one of strongest memories I have of identifying with animals on a deeper level.
Similar to my love and understanding of animals, I discovered the magical qualities of the beach at a very young age, and was especially drawn to shells, rocks and fossils. My father took us to Hammonasset State Beach where I would explore the sand dunes and rocks, looking for shark teeth, shells and other artifacts to collect on our adventures. My dad had a large, brain-shaped piece of coral that he had kept since he was a child that I found mesmerizing. The little grooves and uniformity of the patterns was beautiful. I loved the natural qualities and shapes of the various shells we found and became very interested in different gemstones, rocks and minerals. One of the most memorable gifts that I received as a child was my rock tumbling kit. Connecting with the earth and nature and appreciating the healing qualities of natural items was a comforting escape for me that would continue to this day. Here is my post from last year on the recharging qualities of a beach outing.
I can recount hundreds of similar examples growing up and even into my adulthood where I felt like I was different. Only now, in my 30’s am I understanding the role of being a highly sensitive and intuitive person, and someone who is helping to shift the understanding and collective consciousness of humanity.