You've always been highly attuned to your environment — the quality of light in a room, a subtle shift in a client's posture, the emotion behind words someone else might not even notice. That sensitivity has made you a gifted therapist. It's also, at times, made things feel very heavy.

You may have even wondered, quietly, whether something was wrong with you.

Discovering the concept of highly sensitive people (HSPs) may have brought real relief — a framework that finally made sense of your experience. But what if there's more to the story?

I have a recurring dream about trying to reach a destination and struggling to get there. Sometimes this dream happens in a massive, fun-house-like hotel with levels that don’t connect, moving staircases, and elevators that shoot off into other places. Other times it happens in a vacation area. I’m on the beach or in the mountains or a city trying to connect with a loved one, and my journey becomes a maze as elements shift and change and I can’t quite get there.

I wake up from these dreams sweaty and agitated. They don’t exactly feel like nightmares, but they’re definitely unpleasant. They leave me with a lingering sense of frustration and longing and a little scared. (I have a huge fear of getting trapped in an elevator.)

I’ve been reflecting on change a lot lately. Sometimes I actually like change. I get bored if things stay the same too long. I have enough high sensation-seeking in me that I crave novelty. I love trying a new restaurant, watching a movie I’ve been wanting to see, traveling and soaking in the sights/sounds/people/places. Even rearranging some furniture gives me that tingle of freshness. 

I realize - these are all changes I can control. They are novelties I get to pick and decide when and where and how to explore them. 

I adore this kind of newness.

Then, there’s another kind of change. The kind that happens when you’re looking the other way. 

When the world feels bleaker than usual, I get into reading dystopian novels. There’s something about escaping into an even more difficult world that’s appealing. I can wholeheartedly focus on how these other people are trying to survive and adapt in incredibly difficult circumstances. At least it’s not that bad here, I tell myself as I lean into perspective-taking and distraction.