TRAITS OF AN EMPATH - HIGHLY SENSITIVE
Empaths and Highly Sensitive People share qualities such as being easily stimulated, needing time alone, being hypersensitive to sensory experiences, and generally being less comfortable around large groups. They are also similar in their recovery from high-stimulation situations. Empaths love nature, want to help other people, and yearn to better understand and create a richer, more meaningful life.
The difference begins with an empath's ability not only to sense energy around them but also to absorb that energy. Highly sensitive persons (HSPs) typically do not feel what others feel, though they can sense more than others. The capacity to experience others' energy—whether physical or emotional—is profound. Empaths internalize others' feelings, which can blur the line between their own and others'. This capacity can extend beyond the human race, venturing into spiritual or intuitive realms.
The two are not mutually exclusive. Many people who are HSP are also Empaths, but some are just highly sensitive. Meanwhile, some Empaths are highly sensitive, while others possess strong empathy but are not. If we were to line up the differences, we would find Empaths at one end, HSPs closer in, and those with strong empathy who are neither HSPs nor Empaths near the center. On the complete opposite end are psychopaths, sociopaths, and narcissists, who generally care little or have no regard for other people’s feelings.
Throughout my life, I have been told that I am highly sensitive. Words like “intense” and “sensitive” were common in my experience. I used to see this as an insult, as if people assumed I was not fun to be around or lacked humor, and that they had to tread carefully when interacting with me. Little did they know, and for a long time, I hardly understood myself, that I simply sensed things more intensely than many others and did not grasp what it all meant.
I am very thankful to live in a time when more and more people are trying to understand why individuals like myself are sensitive and less likely to categorize or dismiss emotions. Having a strong innate sensitivity can make experiences like music, movies, or even a day at the park quite thrilling. However, the flip side can be true as well. As an empath, when I sense that someone is sad, anxious, tense, or depressed, I can feel the dark cloud that follows them, and I find myself feeling similarly low.
As a writer, being highly sensitive is a beautiful gift that allows me to focus on characters and formulate scenes where I can see, hear, smell, and even feel as though I can touch or taste something in the world I have created. The picture is vivid and rich, and I enjoy stepping into another world for a fraction of the time. It is tricky to maintain such focus, but when it happens, it truly feels magical as I type away on my computer.
What gets in the way of better writing sessions is the cacophony of voices and words in my head. Guidance from King, Lamont, and White ranges from nuanced perspectives on writing. I feel intimidated by my fellow writers in San Diego. I judge, compare, and hide rather than gather, share, and collaborate. One lesson I learned from photography education is that creative people can only share their processes and what works for them. Stephen King promotes a discipline of writing 1,000 words daily, whereas Greta Gerwig suggests focusing on quality, even if it’s only five hundred words instead of quantity. Sometimes, there can be too much information and comparison. As a highly sensitive person (HSP), I delve into the structure and storyline of a work while avoiding distractions from other authors’ or writers’ anecdotal notes.
The more I understand being an empath, the more I learn about myself. The more I learn about myself, the more I appreciate my uniqueness and the uniqueness of others. No two people can stand next to each other and create something identical. Even if two people share the same idea or plot, our experiences, upbringing, education, and style will produce two completely different stories. I should take comfort in my individual distinction and let it encourage me to write my stories with greater self-confidence.
Cover Image: A Young Woman Seated in a Chair, 17th century. The Metropolitan Museum of Art