I befriend my sensitivity

There is a full moon in Pisces coming this weekend. This full moon is supposed to be a highly emotional, creative, and intuitive time. It’s a time for deep self-reflection and manifestation. Best of all, it’s a full moon in my sun sign during my favorite time of the year, so I’m feeling extra mystical, witchy, and woo-woo.

Even though the full moon isn’t quite here yet, I have already been feeling overly emotional all week long. This past weekend I got out of town for the first time all year and it was incredible. I felt renewed and energized while hanging out in a much more progressive town than the delusional, Trump-loving town I currently live in. Perusing three different book stores with rainbow gay pride and BLM flags in the window made me feel at home. I spent all of Labor Day coffee-shop-hopping. Oversized cozy mugs of herbal tea and the most decadent pastries blissfully filled my belly and my soul.

Then, when I returned home and was forced to immerse myself back into my daily reality, I felt a wave of sadness, grief, FOMO, and unfairness. I was overwhelmed by thoughts of hating my life and hating that I can’t drive anywhere. Caught in endless rumination, I thought about how angry I am at the criminal justice system for punishing and stigmatizing my trauma instead of helping me find resources to heal. I spent most of the week coming down from my weekend high and got lost in a sea of full moon in Pisces sadness.

One thing that has helped me survive this driver’s license-less season is writers. Yesterday Holly Whitaker posted a newsletter to her Substack account and linked this podcast episode with Martha Beck and Elizabeth Gilbert. This episode didn’t necessarily pull me out of my funk, but it did help me befriend my sensitivity.

In this episode, Liz Gilbert talks about her past with addictive behaviors and how she finally overcame them. She says the hardest part was learning to sit with and feel unwanted emotions. The good news is, experiencing those difficult emotions doesn't mean there is something wrong with her. Liz views her extreme sensitivity as her superpower, as something to be celebrated, as something to befriend. Which, of course, gives me hope because I literally cry 1-12 times each day.

Liz continues to say she has learned to hold and validate herself in moments of intense sadness or grief. Instead of numbing or squashing her sensitivity, she has learned to befriend it. When Liz feels engulfed in emotional tidal waves, she puts a hand over her heart, or wherever her body feels tense, and says:

I see you and I love you

I’m not going anywhere

I see you, I see you, I see you

I love you, I am here for you

What do you need, sweet girl?

A nap? A glass of water? A hug?

I see you, I see you, I see you

I love you

Since I was a small child this culture has told me that being overly emotional is unacceptable. Crying is not allowed in public spaces. I was told: “No tears, my dear” or “Suck it up, Buttercup.” No one taught me how to nurture my nature. No one taught me how to befriend my sensitivity. It’s no wonder I fell deeply down the blackhole of addiction.

Befriending my sensitivity is the opposite of numbing. It means I see and validate my hurting self. It means showing up with endless self-compassion. Feeling this way does not mean there is something wrong with me. It means I am a human with a special superpower.

As the full moon in Pisces approaches and my emotions intensify, I will remember this Liz Gilbert quote: “What a rare bliss it is to finally feel all of the feelings this culture has told me are not allowed.”

I befriend my sensitivity.