In the summer of 1991, I worked weekends as a waitress in a small local bar.

I was new at waitressing, and had never spent much time in bars. But it was a job, and I needed the money.

The bar owners were cold and businesslike, and didn't care much about training their waitresses. There was a long string of university students needing work, so their idea was to throw you into the maelstrom and see if you survived.

After all, how much training do you really need to be a waitress? You can either do the job, or you can't.

A Simple Job

The "Help Wanted" sign outside their business stayed up all summer long, as girls filtered in and out. I contemplated the job for days before I finally went in, hesitant and unsure. But all my other leads had run dry, so I decided to give it a try.

The job itself seemed simple enough.

Just take people's orders. Bring food requests to the kitchen and drink requests to the bar. When the food is ready, bring it out to the correct table, and collect payment from customers before they leave.

So simple.

But I just couldn't do it.

What bothered me most wasn't what happened at work. It was more what happened to me after I got home. I just couldn't relax, and dreaded being called back in. I even had nightmares where I experienced a pervasive feeling of panic all night long, though I couldn't remember anything distinct when I awoke the next morning.

I told myself I'd eventually get used to the job and my stress level would go down.

But I never did.

Eventually, they just removed me from the waitressing schedule and stopped calling me. They probably found someone who could do the job better than I did. Except whenever I walked by, the same "Help Wanted" sign still hung from their front window.

Coming To Terms With My Failure

It seems silly to say it, but that experience haunted me for years.

Not because of the job itself, but because of my extreme reaction to it. My stress level was so high that I felt physically ill.

The same thing happened a few years later when I got a job in the office of an automotive parts manufacturer. I had to arrive each day at 6:00 am, check the production numbers of all the machines on the floor, and then quickly type up a report for the department heads before their daily morning meeting.

A simple enough job.

But just like with the waitressing job, I would arrive back at home each day unable to move for at least an hour. I would just crash on the sofa, my body tense as a board, my mind racing.

Daily, I would chastise myself, "Why can't you just handle this?", "You're never going to make it", or "What is wrong with you?"

It took me decades to understand what was going on.

Defective And Inadequate

Eventually I understood. Both jobs had strict time constraints. They were fast-paced and unforgiving, with non-negotiable deadlines. It's an environment that some people really thrive in.

I, however, did not.

For years, I blamed myself for not being able to mentally handle those jobs, and constant asked myself, "What is wrong with you? Why can't you be like everyone else?" When, instead, I should have been more compassionate and said to myself, "Your nervous system works differently than others, and that's ok. You just need to find a different strategy."

I'm reminded of a quote from Albert Einstein, who once said, "If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life believing it is stupid."

I spent a lot of my life believing I was defective and inadequate.

Now I know that I have a highly sensitive nervous system. I just experience the world more intensely than most other people, and because of that, it's imperative that I follow my body's cues to avoid overwhelm.

Managing High Sensitivity

Here are a few things that I've found helpful for keeping my nervous system in a more peaceful, restful state:

Physically:

soft lighting and calming scents
plenty of downtime after social events
regular yoga and deep breathing exercises to keep myself grounded

Emotionally:

regularly checking in with myself to see how I'm feeling
setting firmer boundaries in my relationships
processing stored emotions through restorative yoga and journaling

Psychologically:

limiting exposure to negative news and social media
reframing my sensitivity as a strength, rather than a weakness
celebrating every small win where I challenged myself but was able to stay within my window of tolerance

I used to hate the fact that I was highly sensitive and tried to act more like a tomboy. I doubt I fooled anyone.

I've since realized that I have to manage my life more carefully than other people do. Failing to do that takes me to some really bad places that I'd rather avoid.

The Hardest Thing

Even more important than managing my sensitivity, I had to do something even harder first:

I had to learn to love myself in spite of my sensitivity. More than that, I had to learn to love myself because of it.

Being highly sensitive is a drag most of the time. But the older I get, the more I realize that my ability to listen deeply and empathize with others is valuable and desirable. Who doesn't want someone to listen to their struggles and fears with attentiveness and empathy?

It's a sought-after commodity.

So, rather than feeling embarrassed by my skillset, I'm finally learning to protect it, and even to embrace it.

You can too. If you're a highly sensitive person, please know that you're not defective. Your skills are valuable and unique and so needed in this world right now.

Most importantly, you are loveable and beautiful exactly as you are.

How I Learned To Love And Protect My Highly Sensitive Nervous System - The Hard Way

Being a highly sensitive person in our modern world is challenging.

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