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I'm An HSP

Updated: Aug 8, 2022

stacks of journals on shelves
Photo Cred: Julia Joppien / Unsplash

Every damn day felt like starting over. My collection of crap habits was as extensive as the library in Beauty and the Beast. I had so many health issues, fears, insecurities, and elements of life in-the-red that I was waaaayyy past the point of even desiring normalcy. Relief, sure. That would be nice. To wake up in the morning and not sneeze and pump out mucus for an hour straight. To not have to brush dead skin off my shoulders and ask The P.I.C. to “flake check” my hair and ears before leaving the house. To not feel utterly allergic to life. To follow through on something for once. To go a day without engaging in some form of self-sabotage. To go five minutes without being aware of the skin condition I’ve experienced, in varying degrees, for over a decade.

Especially when I’m tired, overstimulated—I’ve made my todo list too long or exceeded my quota of social interaction for the day, my stamina quickly deteriorates and my mind spirals. In that energetically fragile state, every aspect of life easily appears dismal. I’m exhausted by my own struggle to make it, lose weight, feel healthy and function at a level of productivity where my life actually takes on substantial positive flux. I feel defeated, overwhelmed and dangerously susceptible to low-vibe cravings. I get down on myself. Nothing seems like it’s enough to truly move the needle forward.

If I could just stick with one thing . . . a few things . . . a handful of practices that compiled into a healthy, successful lifestyle . . . would I ever be capable of that?


When I came into the knowledge of being a highly sensitive person aka HSP, I learned that my immense depth of perception and observation are, in fact, biological, as is an essential need for my own brand of self-care. I used to think I was a holistic junkie because of the success I’d had with clean eating to heal my psoriasis. But it blossomed into a passion and deepened into a need. Being in tune with the nuances of my state has connected me with the most powerful form of guidance I’ve ever possessed. This deeper understanding of my own biological makeup has explained so many of my tendencies and clued me into a unique MO that prioritizes my wellbeing in the utmost. I’ve given up idealizing what the motivational industry coins as “high performers”—mega productivity badasses that do it all and have it all—because I simply don't function that way. My life’s work has become evolving my lifestyle choices to nurture my biological nature. I create much more effectively when I have a chunk of focused hours on a single project. I write best in silence. When I detect a dwindle in my energy, it’s a good idea to take a break and rest, unplug and clear the environment of stimulation. If I try to bear down and muscle through, I’ll just get agitated and waste a lot of time getting nothing done.

Even before I tested as an HSP, I began soothifying my environment with the energetically neutralizing orange glow of Himalayan salt lamps, burning candles and switching to low light in the evening. I began adopting rituals that infused calm, relaxation and self-nurturing. I find a childlike sustenance from these SelfLoving practices, an inner warmth that resonates as safety, comfort and reassurance. When I self-soothe, I am more apt to make healthy, spiritually aligned choices and be mentally + emotionally even-keeled.

I regularly cheer myself on with positive inner dialogue—“You’re doin’ great girl.” “Time to take a break and let yourself rest.” “You’re makin’ progress! Keep goin’ . . . Almost there.”—while simultaneously wondering if I am in complete denial about how bad I’m really doing. In a certain light, after a day with too much stress and clutter, every area of my life can seem in desperate need of major upgrade. But sometimes, often, especially in the morning when I’m fresh and unburdened by energetic obligations, I feel blissful and appreciative. I see movement and evolution. I’m hopeful in the vastness of my potential. Potential that will inevitably be realized on a timeline all my own, in a mode that nurtures my cells, with a deep love for who I am.

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