I Take Things Personally. There, I Said It.

I was listening to an autobiography the other day when something the author said stopped me instantly.

She said something to the effect of: I’m a sensitive person. I take everything personally. That’s just who I am. What?! Why would a grown woman admit that? That’s a weakness, isn’t it? That’s so...vulnerable. It hasn’t left my brain. And then I realized: I’m a sensitive person. I take things personally, too. And there is nothing inherently wrong with that. It’s just how my brain is wired.

When someone does something that feels mean, doesn’t say hello, gives me a curt response, or seems “off,” my brain immediately starts scanning for what I did to cause it. Immediately. Years of therapy and getting older have helped me learn what to do next. I can step back and come up with other explanations for what just happened. Maybe it is me. But maybe it isn’t. For a long time, the harder part was that I would then beat myself up for feeling bad in the first place.

I’ve heard plenty of: “Who cares?” “You don’t even like that person. Why does it matter?”

Well... it matters to me.

That’s part of who I am. And I’m not sure I want to change that part of myself.

Change Doesn't Always Mean Becoming a Different Person

We talk a lot about people changing. And change is hard. Real change takes insight, effort, and usually quite a bit of practice. You’ve spent your entire life learning to think, feel, and respond in certain ways. You're probably not going to undo all of that overnight. And maybe you don't need to. Ten years ago, I might have heard something, taken it personally, and unraveled. I'd sulk. I'd replay it. I'd convince myself I'd done something wrong or that there was something wrong with me.

Now? I hear it. I take it personally. Then I stop, acknowledge, and process.

If someone doesn't say hello when they normally do, sure—they may be upset with me. I can acknowledge that possibility. If the relationship matters to me, maybe I address it. Or maybe I move along.

Because they could also be distracted. Stressed. Having a terrible day. Thinking about something completely unrelated to me. Maybe they didn't see me. Maybe they have bad eyesight. There are a million possibilities.

Whatever is happening with them does not automatically belong to me.

That's where the growth happened. Not in becoming a person who suddenly doesn't care. Not in forcing myself to say, “Who cares?” when I actually do. The growth is in what happens after that first automatic reaction.

This Is the Part Therapy Can Change

When we talk about change in therapy, we aren't talking about changing the other person. If you're my client and someone is angry with you, I'm interested in what their behavior means to you. What did you feel? What did you immediately tell yourself? What happened next? Did you assume you did something wrong? Did you start replaying the interaction? Did you change your behavior? Did you spend the rest of the day trying to figure out what happened? And most importantly: Is that process working for you?

Because if it isn't, that's where we can work. You don't have to be ashamed of your first thought or your first emotional reaction. You don't have to turn yourself into someone who doesn't care. But you can learn to pause before that first reaction becomes the whole story. You can acknowledge it. You can process it. And you can decide what—if anything—you want to do with it.

It takes work, but it is absolutely possible.

Signed,
Someone who is sensitive and does, in fact, take things personally.