Dear Sensitive Soul: You Were Never Too Much

When the world is too loud and your whole body knows it Photo by Joshua Fuller via Unsplash

For the anxious, the attuned, and the ones who feel everything too much.

You’re not imagining it.

The tension in the room. The headline no one wants to name. The noise everyone won’t shut up about. The sadness or anger in someone else’s voice—even when they insist they’re “fine.”

You carry it. You always have.

That gut sense that something’s off—even when everyone else is pretending nothing’s wrong? That’s not anxiety. That’s awareness.
And that knowing? That’s your power—if you stop treating it like a problem to fix.

Maybe you’ve been told you’re too sensitive. Too dramatic. Too intense.
Maybe you’ve told yourself to chill out. Toughen up. Stop spiraling.
Or maybe—most likely—you’ve learned to fake it. You’ve mastered the art of pretending you’re not affected, even as your whole body tries to tell you something you’ve learned to override.

Let me say this clearly:

You don’t have to go numb to survive.
You don’t have to be “productive” to be valuable.
You don’t have to be calm to be credible.
You can cry and be credible.
You can be pissed off and still be whole.
You can feel it all—and still move forward.

You’re not fragile. You’re finely tuned.
That’s not weakness. That’s fucking wisdom.

“The fundamental weakness of Western civilization is empathy.”
—Elon Musk

The World Is Loud. You’re Not Crazy for Noticing.

It’s 2025, and the volume is turned all the way up.
Authoritarianism isn’t creeping in—it’s sprawling across the headlines. Rights are being rolled back in broad daylight. Pride flags are banned. Books are pulled from shelves. Empathy is dismissed as weakness. And those in power are gaslighting entire communities.

If your nervous system feels fried, your emotions are all over the place, and your body wants to either hide or scream—it doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’re paying attention.

You’re not behind.
You’re not lazy.
You’re not too sensitive.
You’re not overreacting.

You’re responding.
To a planet on fire.
To policies that erase people.
To the pressure to perform, produce, and pretend everything’s fine—while holding everyone else’s pain in your chest like it’s your job.

I know that job well. Because I do it too.

What It’s Like to Be a Highly Sensitive Therapist in 2025

I’m a therapist. But I’m also a human.
A queer, highly sensitive, recovering-perfectionist human who tears up over unexpected moments of connection—and sometimes wants to throw my laptop across the room after reading the news.

Being a sensitive therapist right now means:

• Watching rights get rolled back while wondering how to protect my clients

• Holding space for other people’s grief, rage, and burnout—without losing my own anchor

• Taking half-hour buffers between sessions

• Pausing to breathe, drink water, and ground myself before I go again

It also means:

• Saying no to more clients—even when every part of me wants to help

• Letting my empathy guide me, without letting it consume me

• Choosing the discomfort of truth over the destruction of people-pleasing

• Showing up to session knowing that sensitivity isn’t a flaw—it’s a strength

Sensitivity Isn’t a Liability in the Therapy Room

Being sensitive in this work means learning how to hold space without drowning in it.
It means setting boundaries I don’t always want to set.
It means staying present even when my heart is breaking, because I know that’s where the real work happens.

That’s the thing no one tells you about healing:
It’s not about comfort.
It’s about choosing the kind of discomfort that moves you forward.

I’ve had to choose. Over and over again.
To let rest matter.
To let myself care deeply—and step back when I need to.
To remember that being tuned in doesn’t make me fragile. It makes me effective.

I notice the shift in someone’s tone before they do.
I hear what’s not being said.
I hold space without needing people to shrink.

That’s not soft. That’s skill.

What It Really Means to Be Sensitive

Let’s get one thing straight:

Sensitivity doesn’t mean you’re broken.
It means you process life more deeply than most people are used to.
You notice tone, tension, microexpressions, and the mood behind the words.
You cry during commercials, flinch at sudden noise, or spiral after an offhand comment—not because you’re weak, but because your system is alert.

You’re not “too much.” You’re just attuned.

And in a world that runs on shutdown, speed, and detachment?
You are swimming against the current. Every damn day.
And yes—it’s exhausting.
But no—it’s not a flaw.

Sensitivity Isn’t the Opposite of Strength. It Is Strength.

Let’s kill the myth once and for all.

You don’t need thicker skin. You need better boundaries.
You don’t need to shut down. You need space to feel—and then decide what to do with it.
You don’t need to “calm down” to be taken seriously.

You can be sensitive and powerful.
You can cry and still be wise.
You can feel everything—and still show up.

The Quiet Rage of the Sensitive Soul

Here’s something else no one talks about:
Sensitivity and anger aren’t opposites. They’re neighbors.

When you’re told your whole life to be nice, polite, and easygoing, you learn to suppress anger—until you don’t even recognize it anymore.

But anger doesn’t disappear. It lives in the body.
It shows up as overstimulation. Resentment. Exhaustion.
The sound of someone breathing too loudly makes you want to scream—and you wonder if you’re “just being sensitive.”

Nope. That’s unprocessed fury.

Anger isn’t the problem. Ignoring it is.

Why Anger Is a Signal—Not a Shame

Anger is often your body’s way of saying: “Something isn’t right here.”
But many of us—especially women and queer folks—were taught to fear it. To shove it down, spiritualize it, or cover it in a smile.

But ignoring anger doesn’t make it disappear. It makes it fester.
And eventually, it leaks out as irritability, resentment, or burnout.

Anger, when acknowledged, can be a guide.
A boundary.
A call to action.

You’re not broken for feeling rage.
You’re alive.
And that anger? It doesn’t make you unkind.
It makes you aware.

Sensitive — and Rebellious

Sensitivity doesn’t mean passivity.
Many of us who feel the most also fight the hardest.

That’s not a contradiction. That’s a calling.

Sensitive rebels don’t always look like fire-starters.
We’re the ones holding it together at work, biting our tongues at family dinners, and feeling the ache of the world before anyone else names it.

We may not storm the gates.
But we light the fuse.

Being a sensitive rebel means:
— You see the injustice and feel the impact
— You show up even when your nervous system is fried
— You speak truth when silence would be easier
— You love fiercely—and refuse to accept a world that erases people

You don’t have to pick a lane.
You can be soft and done being nice.
You can be sensitive and revolutionary.
You can be rested—and still raise hell.

Burnout, Boundaries, and the Sensitive Soul

If you’re a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP), an empath, or someone recovering from emotional burnout, you already know that life feels like too much—too loud, too fast, too demanding. And yet, people like us tend to keep going. We show up. We care hard. We feel everything—and often ignore our own limits until our nervous systems wave the white flag.

That’s why boundaries aren’t just healthy—they’re necessary. Especially for HSPs, people-pleasers, and those of us who were never taught how to say “no” without guilt.

Choose the Right Discomfort

There is no version of life without discomfort.
But you can choose the kind that heals instead of the kind that hollows you out.

Choose the discomfort of:

• Saying no when it would be easier to people-please

• Resting when your inner critic says you haven’t earned it

• Telling the truth when it would be safer to shut up

• Taking up space when everything in you wants to shrink

• Letting people down instead of letting yourself down again

The ache of truth is cleaner than the rot of self-betrayal.
You don’t need to become someone else. You need to come home to yourself.

That’s not indulgent.
That’s survival.
That’s rebellion.

Real Self-Care for Sensitive Souls

Self-care isn’t all candles and bubble baths (though yes—take the damn bath).
It’s about boundaries. It’s about power. It’s about learning to stay with yourself even when it’s uncomfortable.

It’s about:

• Saying no without apology

• Letting yourself rest, rage, or cry without calling it a breakdown

• Refusing to shrink to stay likable, marketable, or digestible

You’re not here to disappear quietly.

You’re here to feel—deeply, honestly—and then decide what to do with it.
Hold the grief.
Honor the fire.
Let the knowing guide you.

And if you need to rest? Rest like it matters.
Because it does.

You were never too sensitive. You were tuned in. Stay that way. The world needs your radar.

In solidarity,
~ Tori

P.S. Therapy isn’t navel-gazing. It’s rebellion.

If you’re tired of performing strength and ready to explore what it means to live fully—messy, sensitive, rebellious therapy might be your next act of resistance.

Until then, let your sensitivity be your rebellion. Let your healing be your protest.
You don’t have to fix yourself to be powerful.

And if your brain short-circuits every time you read the news? You’re not broken. You’re awake.

Trump’s out here slinging fascist bullshit about Harvard students “not being able to add 2 + 2” like he’s the authority on math—or free thought.

This isn’t about math.
It’s about control.

And sensitive souls?
We don’t do control.
We do integrity.
We do nuance.
We feel. We question. We refuse to go numb.

Keep going.
Keep thinking.
That’s the resistance.

Want more truth-telling from a therapist who’s still in the trenches?
Join me on Substack for rebellious reflections on therapy, queerness, burnout, and staying awake in a world that wants us numb.
Therapy. Rebellion. Sensitivity. Rage. The stuff polite people avoid—but we don’t.
👉 Come hang out on Substack

Disclaimer: This blog isn’t therapy. If you’re struggling, please connect with a licensed mental health professional.