Trusting my ability to read other people and their situations is something I need to accept and honor. As I look back on meaningful, traumatic, or momentous occasions where I intuited the situation or the person correctly, I should be confident in my empathic ability. If I’m honest, my empathy crosses over into the unknown, and my fact- and science-based thinking doesn’t set foot into pseudoscientific phenomena. I can only accept that my unnatural ability to perceive and intuit comes from my gift of empathy.
It’s much more painful than pouring salt in a wound. Wearing your heart on your sleeve doesn’t bring any symbolism or parallels to the experiences we endure. Bleeding heart—maybe. It does feel like I’m bleeding out, but those words don’t quite touch the intensity of the emotional pain with which we try to cope.
The Impact of Being Gifted and Emotionally Intense
Those of us who are gifted and emotionally intense grapple with feelings that can frighten, overwhelm, and paralyze us. They can send us into the clouds and beyond, or they can push us to the edge of the enormous black hole, ready to suck us in and keep us there. Our emotions may appear to be unregulated, and we do struggle to modulate our emotional surges. Yet, the extremes of our emotions can change on a dime, in a day, or within an hour. Our feelings can range from ferocious despair to the utmost exhilaration in a nanosecond. For gifted individuals who are emotionally intense and shoulder big feelings, our wild dances with our emotional extremes are our normal.
Coming to terms with my giftedness and then struggling to understand and accept the magnitude of my emotions was a powerful and arduous process. As a little girl, I realized my level of sensitivities, intuitiveness, and empathy were unlike everyone else. At just five years old, I began to pack away my emotional giftedness, a tragic loss I would endure for most of my life. My empathy, zealous creativity, perceptiveness, and my passion for living outside the box were securely packed away, never to humiliate, shame, or expose me again.
Growing up in a world which did not appreciate, and even shunned, my unconventional emotions and resultant behaviors, I learned to hide much of who I was. My emotional intensity brutally exposed itself when my uncompromising sensitivity was unexpectedly triggered, and my protective defenses failed. Tears would flood my cheeks, my sadness led to the pain I was incapable of accepting, or my spirited animation bounced off the walls. No tears, no quirkiness, and no broken-heartedness were acceptable.
The impact of being gifted and emotionally intense can be a positive driving force, enriching one’s life. I still find it almost unbearable when having to sit with tremendous emotional pain, and I try to remember that the pain will not be forever. Rarely is there an outlet for working through the intense emotional pain, and I still struggle not to catastrophize about where my emotional pain can lead me. But, time after time, I seem to rise from the ashes and the depths of despair stronger, more confident, and in better control of my life.
On the flip side of emotional pain is the irrepressible, spirited passion for life, where anything goes, and everything is possible. Living with the attitude that life is an endless opportunity of experiences, loves, and people is enriched exponentially by one’s emotional intensity. As I discover my giftedness and its impact on my life, I’ve given myself permission to be all of who I am. That means you just may find me on my daily bike ride, waiting at a crosswalk, singing out loud, and flipping my pedals or clicking my handbrakes to the beat of the music blasting through my earbuds.
The Impact of Being Gifted and Highly Sensitive
Most often, my emotional intensity is triggered when my highly sensitive nature is struck with various stimuli. Unstoppable tears will spring forth when an amber alert comes through on my phone or I see an elderly couple lovingly supporting each other as they slowly shuffle into the pharmacy. Being highly sensitive means that loud, angry voices, an unpleasant grimace from a friend, a sappy song, an odd response from a physician, or a doe successfully guiding her fawns across a busy highway will all make me cry with tears of joy, sadness, confusion, or anguish. The daily struggle to hold back tears, keep panic at bay, or avoid my anxiety from becoming a centrifugal vortex in my brain is a constant in my self-talk. It’s a never-ending thought battle.
When the Emotional Intensity Breaks Free
Memories of those times that my emotions and sensitivities defied my attempt to hold them back are vivid, and I can recall each one in a second-by-second playback.
I was asked to do a reading at my niece’s wedding. Standing happy and confident in front of hundreds of people, I began to read, and with the fifth word, I unexpectedly began to cry and choke on my words. Summoning all the strength I could to stop the brutal display of emotions, I stopped, took long, deep breaths, but continued my garbled reading. I was embarrassed, happy, sad, and angry I made a mess of this part of my niece’s wedding. My overwhelming emotions completely blindsided me, coming out of nowhere and leaving me powerless to reign them in.
Funerals are understandably a time of great sorrow and tears. Having already lost my mom and handling it exceptionally well, better than I would have predicted, I expected I would be able to maintain my composure at my father’s funeral two years later. I arrived at the funeral home with my siblings an hour before the funeral began, and together we stood in front of my father’s open coffin. When I saw him in his favorite university golf shirt with a miniature bottle of Tabasco—his mandatory condiment—tucked in his chest pocket, the unanticipated tidal wave of my emotions brought me to my knees. I cried. I wailed. I stroked his hair. I was near hysteria from the depth of my emotional pain. I blurted out, through sobs, that I wanted to be with my dad. I begged to go with him wherever he had gone. My oldest brother held me, comforted me, and said he understood, which lessened my profound shame from my regretful, ugly display of overpowering emotions. A stealth betrayal once again.
The Impact of Being Gifted and an Empath
Whereas my intense emotions and high sensitivity can often impact my life in hurtful ways, my empathy, intuitiveness, and perceptiveness are almost always a plus—these are my superpowers. Being able to feel what others feel, intuit the authenticity of a person, and perceive the truth about a nontransparent situation makes me right 100 percent of the time. Nah, that’s not true. But being highly empathic can bring powerful feelings at times.
Trusting my ability to read other people and their situations is something I need to accept and honor. As I look back on meaningful, traumatic, or momentous occasions where I intuited the situation or the person correctly, I should be confident in my empathic ability. If I’m honest, my empathy crosses over into the unknown, and my fact- and science-based thinking doesn’t set foot into pseudoscientific phenomena. I can only accept that my unnatural ability to perceive and intuit comes from my gift of empathy.
Accepting Empathy, Sensitivity, and Emotional Intensity as a Gift
Only through therapy and self-discovery have I been able to accept my empathy, sensitivity, and emotional intensity as gifts. Working to bring them to the forefront of my daily life, and presenting them to myself as gifts, has created a sense of peace with feelings I had locked away. Understanding, accepting, and honoring my trio of superpowers has helped me use them as powerful, positive forces in my life. I now believe everything bad can be good, and there is a silver lining if you choose to look for it.
Leave a Reply