The Gift of Sensitivity: From “Too Much” to Just Right
By Šárka | Wildflower Somatics
Trauma Informed Somatic Coach • Trauma-Sensitive Yoga Facilitator • SE Practitioner
There was a time when I thought something was wrong with me.
I could feel other people’s emotions in my body like waves crashing onto my own nervous system. Crowded places like shopping malls, wedding halls or big parties always felt like too much—too much light, noise, movement, energy. I would leave feeling drained, even if nothing “bad” happened.
I was the kind of child who worried too much, cared too much, felt too much. A slight change in someone’s voice tone could keep me up at night. I picked up unspoken tensions in the room before anyone said a word. My inner world was rich and alive—but also overwhelming.
And yet, I learned to mask it.
To function.
To be the calm smiley one.
To carry the weight for others.
But under the surface, I often felt like I didn’t belong. Like my sensitivity made me somehow too delicate for this fast-paced, noisy, demanding world.
"You’re just too sensitive."
I heard this more times than I can count—especially from people who meant well.
My father would say, “You’re oversensitive. You take everything to heart.” Sometimes it sounded like advice. Other times like a warning. Often, it felt like a dismissal.
And so I tried to toughen up. To protect myself. To be less affected. Less emotional. Less… me.
But sensitivity doesn’t go away just because we try to suppress it. It goes into hiding. It contracts. It turns inward. And without the tools or support to understand it, sensitivity can begin to feel like a burden, even to ourselves.
Reclaiming My Sensitivity as a Gift
It took years—and a lot of inner work—for me to stop pathologizing my sensitivity.
What helped?
Coming back to my body.
Learning to listen and be with my emotions instead of overriding.
Finding healing tools that honored my pace, my rhythm, and my need for space and quiet.
It’s no coincidence that I found my way into somatic work—where sensitivity isn’t seen as a flaw, but as information, intelligence, and a portal to deeper connection.
Today, I still need alone time in nature to reset.
I still have moments when I take things on myself or catch myself people pleasing.
I still cry when others cry (yes, sometimes also in the session).
But I no longer see these things as weaknesses. They are my medicine.
And they allow me to hold space for others—not by fixing or rescuing, but by being attuned and grounded in my own body.
Sensitivity Is Not a Problem to Solve
It’s a capacity.
To sense.
To feel.
To connect with nuance.
To notice the subtle and the unsaid.
To respond with compassion instead of reactivity.
Yes, sensitivity can be overwhelming—especially when we’re not taught how to care for it.
Yes, it can make boundary-setting and trust more challenging.
But with the right tools, it becomes a strength that enriches everything—from relationships to creative expression to how we support others.
If You’ve Ever Been Called “Too Much”…
This is your reminder that sensitivity is not something to get rid of.
It may require more care. More rest. More boundaries.
But it’s not too much.
You’re not too much.
You’re just in a world that doesn’t always honor what you so naturally feel.
So here’s to the sensitive ones.
The deep feelers.
The quiet observers.
The wildflowers.
The space-holders and world-weavers.
YOUR SENSITIVITY IS SACRED.
And it’s so much needed in this world.
With love,
Šárka
Šárka is the heart behind Wildflower Somatics — a space holder for women on the journey back to their bodies, their rhythm, and their truth.
As a trauma-informed somatic coach for women, trauma-sensitive yoga facilitator, and Somatic Experiencing® practitioner, she supports nervous system healing, embodied resilience, and soulful self-discovery — always honoring the wisdom of the body, the power of presence, and the courage it takes to feel. Her work weaves together somatics, mindfulness, and deep listening in service of sustainable inner change. With tenderness and depth, she invites women to root, rise, and bloom — in their own wild, gentle way.
