Sensitivity is such a big part of our lives. Both my children are sensitive and it manifests in different and similar ways. I have a girl and a boy. In learning about sensitivity in them, I have come to see sensitivity in myself, and have made sense of so many of my experiences as a child as a result of this. I think this has also made it easier for me to understand their sensitivity which I think supports my capacity to be patient and understanding. I don't see sensitivity as a weakness either. I see it as a potential strength. But as you speak about the environment in this piece, I have come to see that the environment these children grow up in, especially the responses they receive to the manifestations of their sensitivity, is what sets the stage for it to bear the fruits of it's strengths into adulthood, or become an obstacle that gets in the way. Having two sensitive kids as my parenting experience, the challenge for me has been to recognise that not all children are highly sensitive, and to make sense of the experiences of others who don't experience the world as intensely as my kids or myself. So I am on the other side of making sense:) I love talking about sensitivity and seeing the world through the eyes of sensitive children. I resonated so much with the experiences you have had with your daughter, and enjoyed reading along. :)
Thank you for such a thoughtful reflection. I’m so pleased this resonated. Yes, I very much agree with your observation that the environment — and the responses children receive within it — can shape whether sensitivity grows into one of its strengths or becomes something that has to protect itself. That’s such an important insight. I also loved your final point about now finding yourself trying to understand people who don’t experience the world so intensely. It almost perfectly mirrors the curiosity I was hoping the piece might invite. We’re all trying to understand experiences that aren’t our own.
Yes, I think that’s true. For me, writing about children has gradually become a way of thinking about people more generally. Perhaps understanding anyone begins with recognising that we’re never seeing the whole of another person’s experience.
Gem, I enjoyed this piece, thank you. Especially the line about environments that demand versus environments that invite. That distinction is doing so much work. It's not really about noise or crowd size at all, is it? It's about whether a space asks a child to keep adapting to it, or adapts to them.
You mentioned your husband being told he was too sensitive as a boy, and I think about that constantly with my own two. The instinct to toughen up a sensitive boy is still so culturally automatic. I try hard to resist it, but I'd be lying if I said the old script never whispers.
I agree with what you described - I've stopped chasing the perfect environment, because I don't think it exists. What I can control is whether my child feels safe enough to tell me it isn't working; and then trust that signal enough to actually change course, rather than pushing through because we already committed to the plan. Some environments just aren't going to become inviting no matter how long we wait. Knowing when to leave is its own skill, and maybe an underrated one.
Thank you so much. Your point about trusting your child’s signal enough to change course was really poignant. It’s such a beautiful example of what I was trying to get at with “inviting” environments. It’s less about finding somewhere that’s perfect, and more about creating a relationship in which a child trusts that their experience will be listened to and taken seriously. And I completely resonated with what you said about the old script still whispering. I suspect many of us are trying to rewrite stories we inherited long before we became parents.
Sensitivity is such a big part of our lives. Both my children are sensitive and it manifests in different and similar ways. I have a girl and a boy. In learning about sensitivity in them, I have come to see sensitivity in myself, and have made sense of so many of my experiences as a child as a result of this. I think this has also made it easier for me to understand their sensitivity which I think supports my capacity to be patient and understanding. I don't see sensitivity as a weakness either. I see it as a potential strength. But as you speak about the environment in this piece, I have come to see that the environment these children grow up in, especially the responses they receive to the manifestations of their sensitivity, is what sets the stage for it to bear the fruits of it's strengths into adulthood, or become an obstacle that gets in the way. Having two sensitive kids as my parenting experience, the challenge for me has been to recognise that not all children are highly sensitive, and to make sense of the experiences of others who don't experience the world as intensely as my kids or myself. So I am on the other side of making sense:) I love talking about sensitivity and seeing the world through the eyes of sensitive children. I resonated so much with the experiences you have had with your daughter, and enjoyed reading along. :)
Thank you for such a thoughtful reflection. I’m so pleased this resonated. Yes, I very much agree with your observation that the environment — and the responses children receive within it — can shape whether sensitivity grows into one of its strengths or becomes something that has to protect itself. That’s such an important insight. I also loved your final point about now finding yourself trying to understand people who don’t experience the world so intensely. It almost perfectly mirrors the curiosity I was hoping the piece might invite. We’re all trying to understand experiences that aren’t our own.
And when the children grow up this applies to adults too.
Yes, I think that’s true. For me, writing about children has gradually become a way of thinking about people more generally. Perhaps understanding anyone begins with recognising that we’re never seeing the whole of another person’s experience.
Gem, I enjoyed this piece, thank you. Especially the line about environments that demand versus environments that invite. That distinction is doing so much work. It's not really about noise or crowd size at all, is it? It's about whether a space asks a child to keep adapting to it, or adapts to them.
You mentioned your husband being told he was too sensitive as a boy, and I think about that constantly with my own two. The instinct to toughen up a sensitive boy is still so culturally automatic. I try hard to resist it, but I'd be lying if I said the old script never whispers.
I agree with what you described - I've stopped chasing the perfect environment, because I don't think it exists. What I can control is whether my child feels safe enough to tell me it isn't working; and then trust that signal enough to actually change course, rather than pushing through because we already committed to the plan. Some environments just aren't going to become inviting no matter how long we wait. Knowing when to leave is its own skill, and maybe an underrated one.
Thank you so much. Your point about trusting your child’s signal enough to change course was really poignant. It’s such a beautiful example of what I was trying to get at with “inviting” environments. It’s less about finding somewhere that’s perfect, and more about creating a relationship in which a child trusts that their experience will be listened to and taken seriously. And I completely resonated with what you said about the old script still whispering. I suspect many of us are trying to rewrite stories we inherited long before we became parents.