It Wasn’t That I Was Too Sensitive. It Was That I Wasn’t Safe
The path back to emotional safety, self-trust, and honoring the parts of yourself you were taught to hide.
If you were never shown healthy conflict resolution, it makes sense you’d avoid arguments at all costs.
If expressing your truth was often met with blame-shifting and anger, it makes sense that your voice shakes when you try to stand up for yourself.
If you were constantly belittled and picked apart, it makes sense that you’d be sensitive to criticism.
If you were taught that being a beginner at something meant that you were “bad” at it or incapable, it makes sense that you would only accept perfection in your work.
If love was conditional on your obedience, it makes sense that setting boundaries feels shameful or villainous.
If your needs were always labeled as “too much” or an annoyance, it makes sense that you hesitate to ask for support.
If you were praised for being easygoing and agreeable, it makes sense that you now struggle to recognize your own preferences.
If emotional-based truths were punished but silence was praised, it makes sense that you learned to suppress your anger.
If vulnerability was met with judgment or mockery, it makes sense that being open still feels unsafe, even with kind people.
If you were expected to be the peacekeeper, it makes sense that other people’s discomfort still feels like your responsibility.
If you had to guess how others were feeling to stay safe, it makes sense that you sometimes confuse intuition with hypervigilance.
I’ve never believed I was too sensitive. As an empath and HSP, I always felt like the one person in the enmeshed circle who could see the truth beneath the surface. Even as a child, I sensed that my voice was silenced not because I was wrong, but because it threatened the unspoken agreements that kept dysfunction intact. I couldn’t name it at the time, but something always felt off.
One of the most healing revelations in my journey has been learning to accept multiple truths as coexisting. In a world that loves binary thinking—this or that, good or bad, right or wrong—discovering that emotions, beliefs, and needs can coexist without cancelling each other felt like pure freedom.
The more I practice feeling my feelings (especially the uncomfortable ones), the more I realize: I was never “too sensitive.” But- my nervous system was reacting to old environments, not current ones. And healing means helping it feel safe here, now.
When I first found the courage to express anger, I stayed mad longer than probably necessary, because I’d never let myself before. Politely correcting a barista for getting my order wrong felt like a full-blown panic attack, complete with me profusely apologizing and feeling shame for hours afterward. Setting a boundary and being met with blame or hostility could send me straight back to feeling like a 10-year-old girl, punished for the most minor disagreement.
But over time, I’ve learned this: yes, I am deeply intuitive and sensitive. And yes, I can soothe myself through triggers so my reactions reflect the present, not the past. That’s what true self-compassion looks like, and how we learn to trust our intuition as our inner compass. It’s how we create a safe environment for our inner child- with tenderness, with truth, and with the kind of safety we never knew before. How wonderful to give the gift of compassionate emotional growth to our younger selves.
So—how do we enter the space of mindful sensitivity?
As an energy worker, I’ve found the quickest way to return to a sense of inner safety is to go straight to the source: the root chakra.
Located at the base of the spine, the root chakra is our energetic anchor. It governs safety, stability, belonging, and self-trust. And yet, so many of us—especially recovering people-pleasers—are disconnected from the powerful medicine it offers.
When I’m triggered, it feels like my entire sense of self lifts out of my body. I go straight into flight or fawn, like my system is scrambling to survive. My voice trembles, my body shakes, and all practical thinking vanishes.
In those moments, I pause. I breathe.
I remove myself from the energy—stepping outside, walking to the bathroom, or even sitting in my car if that’s what I need. I visualize my sense of self returning through the crown of my head, passing gently through each chakra until it settles into my root.
Then, I imagine it glowing—a deep, steady red—spreading wider with every breath. And I whisper, again and again:
“I am safe. I am safe. I am safe.”
When I feel my nervous system soften, I return grounded and empowered. I show up for myself like I assume a mother would for her child, holding little me’s hand and saying,
"I know this feels scary, but we’re not stuck in the past anymore. We’re safe. We’re allowed to speak up. We get to decide what happens next.”
This ritual has become a daily practice for grounding, and it’s also saved me countless times in the moment, during dentist appointments, vulnerable conversations, and any time I felt my body slipping into old survival patterns.
If this resonated with you, I hope you let it land gently in your heart:
You were never too sensitive.
You were simply shaped by environments that didn’t know how to hold someone as deep-feeling, intuitive, or aware as you.
Your nervous system isn’t broken—it’s wise.
Your reactions aren’t wrong—they’re rooted in experiences where your safety, voice, or autonomy were compromised.
And your healing isn’t about becoming someone new, re-inventing yourself, or fixing yourself. It’s about returning to the truth of who you’ve always been before the world asked you to dull your light.
I know how lonely this journey can feel at times. I know what it’s like to question your reality, to second-guess your intuition, to feel like your sensitivity is something you need to “fix” instead of honor. But I also know the deep, sacred strength that lives inside of you—the part that’s always been watching, waiting, whispering: You’re safe now. And you get to determine how you show up in the world.
If this reflection brought you comfort, clarity, or even just a deep exhale, I’d be so grateful if you shared it with someone who might need it too. And if you haven’t subscribed yet, I’d be honored to walk this path with you! These are the kinds of conversations we have here: messy, meaningful, and rooted in truth.
Thank you so much for spending this time with me.
Your presence here means more than you know.
All my love,
Lauren
Beautiful! Thank you so much for this!