Permission to Pause: Embracing Sensitivity in a Busy World

4 Ways I Embrace Sensitivity that are No Longer Optional

When I was young, I was handed down the idea that being sensitive was wrong or at least something to change about myself. It was pitched as something undesirable, a nuisance, something to overcome and get on with. If I wasn’t so sensitive I wouldn’t cry so much, there wouldn’t be conflict and everyone would just be happy.

Flashback to being the child on the playground who cried easily when hurt, who spent large amounts of time engaged in imaginary play and who often felt shaken up inside. Eventually I learned to question the validity of these ideas. Was being sensitive so bad? Quietly observing others had always been my go-to, and over time, I began to turn that same curiosity towards myself.

As an adult, I began to understand the roots of my sensitivity, not to pathologize it, but to befriend it. I started using more compassionate language, and slowly, over time, I began to accept this part of myself. I found people and spaces that didn’t use my sensitivity as a measure of career success or acceptability. People who didn’t ask me to change or be different. People who valued the complementariness of my sensitivity.

Today, I embrace my sensitivity, and I’ve learned that caring for this part of myself means being intentional about how I spend my time, energy and attention. In a world that often rewards constant productivity, I’ve come to see downtime not as something I have to earn, but as an essential part of caring for myself.

With the dawn of the internet, we can be “online” virtually 24/7. Over scheduling every second of our lives is easy to do. We have work, family and social commitments. We’re trying our best to eat healthy, move our bodies and get adequate sleep. It can all feel so exhausting, trying to check off every task and finish every “to-do”.

Over time, I’ve learned that honouring my sensitivity requires making room for rest, quiet, and transitions. These practices aren’t exclusive to sensitive people, nor does everyone who identifies as sensitive experience the world in the same way. They’re simply the ways I’ve learned to care for myself, given my own experience of sensitivity. Here are the four practices I’ve come to see as non-negotiable.

1. Give yourself transition time.

I’ve learned not to underestimate the value of a few extra minutes between one thing and the next. Sitting in the car for a few extra minutes after the drive home, giving myself an extra hour after that big meeting or creating a small ritual, like changing my clothes, taking a hot shower or allowing myself to pause. These aren’t wasted minutes and they’re not selfish, but instead opportunities to regulate, reconnect with myself and arrive more fully and present at whatever comes next.

2. Plan for time alone after engaging with others.

Time alone isn’t just a nice to have; it’s necessary. After spending time with others, especially when I’ve been sharing vulnerably or holding space for someone else, I often need time to recharge. I’ve come to understand that I can’t continue showing up for others when I’ve completely depleted myself. Making space to recharge allows me to return to myself, and, in turn, to the people I care about with more presence and capacity.

3. Anticipate decision fatigue.

After spending time with others, sharing vulnerably or fulfilling daily commitments, I’ve learned that I may need to power down, even when life keeps moving. Planning for this in advance can look like prepping meals ahead of time, having a few options ready depending on my energy levels, or pre-planning a restorative activity that feels like a warm hug after a long cold day. The less I have to figure out when my energy is running low, the more space I have to simply be.  

4, Allow a slower transition back to “real life” after travel.

Even short trips can be draining. I’ve learned that giving myself one or two extra days at home (to unpack, to do laundry and just be) can make a meaningful difference. Sometimes that means the trip itself is a bit shorter than I might wish for, but the additional time to care for myself means that when I do return to my regular routine, I feel more rested and more ready to jump back in.  

This practice didn’t come intuitively. It took years of learning what it felt like to be me and be in my body. I’m still learning this. I still don’t do it perfectly. I still sometimes overbook myself and end up crashing days later.

Yet, before embracing sensitivity, I was constantly running on fumes, away from myself and away from my thoughts and feelings. I was doing everything I could to make certain parts of me go away. I needed to do more, achieve more and not waste a precious minute of this life.

What has become clear is, the more I’ve allowed myself to slow down, the easier it has become to embrace my life and be in the present moment. Perhaps that’s what embracing sensitivity has offered me most. Not a life without busyness, discomfort or demands, but a life in which I no longer have to abandon myself to meet them.