Prologue: The Gift or the Curse?

“The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honours the servant and has forgotten the gift.”
—Albert Einstein

How do you feel about your sensitivity?

It’s fair to assume that, for many years, living as your sensitive self, people—and society in general—gave you the idea that sensitivity is a weakness. And most probably, you’ve felt that way too.

Life has likely been an overwhelming experience, with almost every day draining your energy as you dream of escape, locking a thick, sound-blocking door behind you and throwing the key away. Maybe you’re exhausted from managing the world, saving, helping, explaining, proving yourself, and justifying your right to exist. On other occasions, you might fall to pieces over something small that didn’t go as planned, leaving you vulnerable and weighed down. Perhaps you’ve felt inferior or lonely—at times, completely isolated in your perceptions or abstract sense of humour, which were never met with enough understanding or appreciation. Worse still, you may have suffered abuse, betrayal of trust, or exploitation from those closest to you. Over time, you’ve likely started protecting yourself frantically, trying to stop the inflow of stressful energies. On those lowest of days, you may even have prayed to the heavens to be just a bit more “normal.” To be more like others.

And no matter how much you tried, that wish never quite came true.

But perhaps you feel differently—I am only guessing. Still, most sensitives would resonate with at least some of this. When, by chance, they come across the idea of high sensitivity, the research, books, and articles, this validation often brings a sense of great relief. In one moment, they discover they’re not alone in their suffering. “I’m not crazy! It’s really a thing!” Even if others also suffer, knowing they exist can be enough. After all, misery loves company.

It feels good to jump to the next level in the societal hierarchy. Validation offers permission. It feels good to move up from being an outcast rejected by others to finding a tribe that understands the challenges. In articles, blog posts, and books, sensitives learn that they’re not flawed or weak, as they once thought. Every quote on Instagram about high sensitivity feels like music to their ears: “Wow, this is so great. Finally, people get me. Things are making sense. I’m finally being understood.” They bask in the sweetness of acceptance and the mutual exchange of perspectives that now resonate. They might even start to moan about those who are less sensitive or the harshness of the world around them. It all seems too good to be true.

But two things tend to halt the momentum.

First, validation doesn’t really bring solutions. It’s great to feel seen, but where do we go from there?

Second, sensitives often encounter the idea that not only are they not flawed, but their sensitivity is a gift. [Cue record screech.] STOP. Hold on. What???

“My sensitivity is a gift?” It sounds nice, but is it? Sure, it’s lovely to be empathic and wonderful when others are too, but how exactly is sensitivity a gift for you?

Most sensitive people are naturally giving and supportive, even to strangers, so it’s not selfish to ask this question. Other people calling you gifted makes sense because they benefit from your supposed “gift.” Society may also value you for your selfless actions (perhaps only for this). But for many I’ve spoken to, this idea feels baffling. Isn’t the gifted person the one who should benefit? While they can certainly agree with how challenging sensitivity is, seeing it as a gift is another matter entirely.

Let’s unpack this.

When we talk about sensitivity, it’s not just one trait that makes you different from the majority of the population. It’s a whole package of traits, challenges, aptitudes, tendencies, and potentials—a mix that adds complexity and weight. Sensitivity is the good, the bad, and the ugly. Some might praise your empathy or artistic creativity, which is true. But behind those externally observable features lies a process that makes it all possible—and it’s not all pretty.

Many traits and abilities associated with sensitivity—creativity, intuition, non-linear thinking—are tied to the right hemisphere of the brain. To others, your deep introspection and abstract thought might seem like a threat. The silent, observant person in the corner can appear weak to some, while making others feel unnerved, as if you can see straight through them. Sensitives often see all points of view, but instead of this being an advantage, it can make it harder to express needs or desires, fearing discomfort in others.

Our movement toward abstraction, idealism, truth, and integrity often clashes with a world remote from our values. We see good in others, and that openness leaves us vulnerable to harm and betrayal. It’s no wonder sensitives are easily overwhelmed, experiencing even daily struggles as a series of small traumas.

I’ve also noticed that the most sensitive people are often creatively gifted. This doesn’t just mean artistic talent—it’s the ability to connect the dots between seemingly unrelated events or ideas, creating insights that others might miss. This tendency to link and interpret can make sensitives seem scattered or incomprehensible to others.

Sensitivity brings abundant stimuli, which can lead to burnout and emotional overload. Yet, in the seeming chaos of the intuitive mind, there’s an order few realise. Sensitives are constantly synthesising information from their surroundings, memories, and intangible sources, forming understandings that are hard to express in simple terms.

Maybe you’ve experienced this too.

From all angles, sensitivity can seem like a mixed blessing—a gift easily mistaken for a curse. Our job is to learn how to harness it, to maximise the good and minimise the bad.

Two major factors determine whether sensitivity will enhance or weaken you: context and utility.

Context asks, Who sets the standards? Much of how we perceive our abilities—and our worth—depends on how others value these traits. Could it be that the world is wrong and you are right?

Utility asks, How can I use this? A gift without use is no gift at all. When you begin to see the potential of your sensitivity, everything changes. Even before you fully master it, the realisation alone can set you on a different trajectory.

These two factors, context and utility, will be explored in depth in the chapters ahead, offering practical insights into how you can navigate sensitivity’s paradoxical nature—and, ultimately, decide its value for yourself. 

“I asked Mom if I was a gifted child. She said they certainly wouldn’t have paid for me.”
—Bill Watterson

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