The Highly Sensitive Person

Observing Rob and Rebecca

About the time I began studying high sensitivity, a close friend gave birth to twins—a boy, Rob, and a girl, Rebecca. From the first day one could sense a difference between them, and I understood exactly what it was. The scientist in me was delighted. Not only would I watch a highly sensitive child growing up, but Rob came with his own “control group,” or comparison, his sister, Rebecca, born into exactly the same environment.

A particular benefit of knowing Rob from birth was that it dispelled any doubts I had about the trait being inheritable. While it is true that he and his sister were also treated differently from the start, at first that was largely because of his sensitivity, a difference he brought into the world. (Being different genders, Rob and Rebecca are fraternal twins, not identical, which means that their genes are no more similar than are those of any brother’s and sister’s.)

To add frosting to this psychologist’s cake, the genders associated with sensitivity were switched. The boy, Rob, was the sensitive one; the girl, Rebecca, was not. The stereotypes were also reversed in that Rob was smaller than Rebecca.

As you read about Rob, don’t be surprised if you experience an emotional response. The whole point of my description is that some of it may also apply to you. Thus, vague memories, or feelings from before you can remember what the feelings were attached to, may return. Be easy about such feelings. Just observe them. In fact, it might be helpful to write them down. It will be useful information as you read and work through the next few chapters

Sleep Troubles

In the first few days after Rob and Rebecca were born, the differences in temperament were greatest when the infants were tired (#litres_trial_promo). Rebecca would fall asleep easily and not wake up. Especially as a result of some change—visitors, travel—Rob would stay awake and cry. Which would mean that Mom or Dad would have to walk, rock, sing, or pat him, trying to bring him to a peaceful state.

With a slightly older sensitive child, current advice is to put the child to bed and let the quiet and dark gradually temper the overstimulation that is the true cause of the crying (#litres_trial_promo). HSPs know all about being “too tired to sleep.” They are actually too frazzled to sleep.

Leaving a newborn to scream for an hour, however, is more than most parents can bear, probably because it is not really very wise to do so. A newborn is usually best soothed by motion. In Rob’s case, his parents finally found that an electric swing induced sleep best.

Then came the problem of his remaining asleep. There are always points in anyone’s sleep cycle that make it very easy or difficult to be awakened, but sensitive children seem to have fewer periods of deep, imperturbable sleep. And once awake, they have greater difficulty going back to sleep. (Remember, this was probably also true of you, whether you remember or not.) My own solution, with our highly sensitive child, was to use blankets to cover his crib. In his little tent all was quiet and cozy, especially if we were laying him down in an unfamiliar place. Sometimes sensitive children really force their parents to be both empathic and creative.

One Night, Two Kids

When Rob and Rebecca were almost three, their little brother was born. My husband and I visited for the night and slept in the bed of their parents, who were at the hospital. We had been warned that Rob might wake up at least once, frightened by a bad dream. (He had many more of them than his sister—HSPs often do.)

As expected, at five in the morning Rob wandered in, crying softly. When he saw the wrong people in his parents’ bed, his sleepy moans became screams.

I have no idea what his mind envisioned. Perhaps “Danger! Mother is gone! Horrible beings have taken her place!”

Most parents agree that everything gets easier once a child can understand words. This is so much more true with a highly sensitive child, caught up in his own imagination. The trick was to slip some quick, soothing words of mine in between his sobs.

Fortunately, Rob has a great sense of humor. So I reminded him of a recent evening when I had baby-sat and served the two of them cookies as “appetizers,” before dinner.

He gulped and stared, then smiled. And somewhere in his brain, I moved from the category of Monster Who Has Taken Mother to Silly Elaine.

I asked him if he wanted to join us, but I knew he would choose his own bed. Soon he was back there, sleeping soundly.

In the morning Rebecca came in. When she saw that her parents were gone, she smiled and said, “Hi, Elaine. Hi, Art,” and walked out. That is the difference in the non-HSP.

It is painful to imagine what would have happened if I had been the sort to have shouted at Rob to shut up and get back to bed. He probably would have done just that, feeling abandoned in a dangerous world. But he would not have slept. His intuitive mind would have elaborated on the experience for hours, including probably deciding he was somehow to blame. With sensitive children, physical blows or traumas aren’t required to make them afraid of the dark.

Rounding Out Our Picture of Rob

By day, when the twins went out with their parents during that first year, the mariachi band at the Mexican restaurant fascinated Rebecca; it made Rob cry. In their second year, Rebecca was delighted by ocean waves, haircuts, and merry-go-rounds; Rob was afraid of them, at least at first, just as he was on the first day of nursery school and with the stimulation accompanying each birthday and holiday. Furthermore, Rob developed fears—of pinecones, of figures printed on his bedspread, of shadows on the wall. The fears were strange and unrealistic to us, but they were certainly real to him.

In short, Rob’s childhood has been a little difficult for him and for his caring, stable, competent parents. Actually, unfair as it is, the difficult aspects of any temperament are displayed more when the home environment is sound. Otherwise, in order to survive, an infant will do whatever he or she must to adapt to the caretakers (#litres_trial_promo), with temperament going underground to resurface in some other way later, perhaps in stress-related physical symptoms. But Rob is free to be who he is, so his sensitivity is out there for all to see. He can express his feelings, and as a result he can learn what does and does not work.

For example, during his first four years, when Rob was overwhelmed, he would often burst into angry tears. At these times, his parents would patiently help him contain his feelings. And with every month he seemed better able to not become overwhelmed. When watching a movie with scary or sad sequences, for example, he learned to tell himself what his parents would say: “It’s just a movie,” or, “Yeah, but I know it ends okay.” Or he would close his eyes and cover his ears or leave the room for a little while.

Probably because he is more cautious, he has been slower to learn some physical skills. With other boys he is less comfortable with wilder, rougher play. But he wants to be like them and tries, so he is accepted. And thanks to careful attention to his adjustment, thus far he likes school a great deal.

There are some other points about Rob that are not surprising, given his trait: He has an extraordinary imagination. He is drawn to everything artistic, especially music (true for many HSPs). He is funny and a great ham when he feels at home with his audience. Since he was three he has “thought like a lawyer,” quick to notice fine points and make subtle distinctions. He is concerned about the suffering of others and polite, kind, and considerate—except, perhaps, when he is overcome by too much stimulation. His sister, meanwhile, has her own numerous virtues. One is that she is a steady sort, the anchor in her brother’s life.

What makes Rob and Rebecca so very different from each other? What makes you answer yes to so many items on the self-test at the beginning of this book when most people would not?

You Are Truly a Different Breed

Jerome Kagan, a psychologist at Harvard, has devoted much of his career (#litres_trial_promo) to the study of this trait. For him it is as observable a difference as hair or eye color. Of course, he calls it other names—inhibitedness, shyness, or timidity in children—and I cannot agree with his terms. But I understand that from the outside, and especially in a laboratory setting, the children he studies do seem mainly inhibited, shy, or timid. Just remember as I discuss Kagan that sensitivity is the real trait and that a child standing still and observing others may be quite uninhibited inside in his or her processing of all the nuances of what is being seen.

Kagan has been following the development of twenty-two children with the trait. He is also studying nineteen who seemed to be very “uninhibited.” According to their parents, as infants the “inhibited” children had had more allergies, insomnia, colic, and constipation than the average child. As young children, seen in the laboratory for the first time, their heartbeat rates are generally higher and under stress show less change. (Heart rate can’t change much if it is already high.) Also when under stress, their pupils dilate sooner, and their vocal cords are more tense, making their voice change to a higher pitch. (Many HSPs are relieved to know why their voice can become so strange sounding when they are aroused.)

The body fluids (blood, urine, saliva) of sensitive children show indications of high levels of norepinephrine present in their brains, especially after the children are exposed to various forms of stress in the laboratory. Norepinephrine is associated with arousal; in fact, it is the brain’s version of adrenaline. Sensitive children’s body fluids also contain more Cortisol, both when under stress and when at home. Cortisol is the hormone present when one is in a more or less constant state of arousal or wariness. Remember Cortisol; it comes up again.

Kagan then studied infants to see which ones would grow into “inhibited” children. He found that about 20 percent of all babies are “highly reactive” when exposed to various stimuli: They pump and flex their limbs vigorously, arch their backs as if irritated or trying to get away, and frequently cry. A year later, two-thirds of the study’s reactive babies were “inhibited” children and showed high levels of fear in new situations. Only 10 percent showed low (#litres_trial_promo) levels. So the trait is roughly observable from birth, as was the case with Rob.

All of this suggests what I have already said—that sensitive children come with a built-in tendency to react more strongly to external stimuli. But Kagan and others are discovering the details that make that so. For example, Kagan found that babies who later showed this trait also had cooler foreheads on the right side of their head, which indicates greater activity on the right side of the brain. (The blood is drawn away from the surface toward the activity.) Other studies have also found that many HSPs have more activity in the right hemisphere of the brain, especially those who stay sensitive from birth into childhood—that is, were clearly born that way (#litres_trial_promo).

Kagan’s conclusion is that persons with the trait of sensitivity or inhibitedness are a special breed. They are genetically quite different, although still utterly human, just as bloodhounds and border collies are quite different, although both are still definitely dogs.

My own research also points to the idea of a distinct genetic “breed” of sensitive people. In my telephone survey of three hundred randomly selected people, I found both a distinct group and also a continuum. On a scale of one to five, about 20 percent felt they were “extremely” or “quite a bit” sensitive. An additional 27 percent said “moderately.” Together, those three categories seemed like a continuum. But then there was a sharp break. A measly 8 percent were “not.” And a whopping 42 percent said they were “not at all” sensitive, as if we were asking Laplanders about coconuts.

My sense of HSPs from meeting them is that they are indeed a distinct group, separate from the nonsensitive. Yet among them there is also a wide range in sensitivity. This may be due to there being several different causes of the trait, leading to different kinds, or “flavors,” of sensitivity, some of them stronger than others, or to some people being born with two kinds, three kinds, and so on. And there are so many ways that humans can increase or decrease their sensitivity through experience or conscious choice. All of these effects could cause a blurring of the boundary of what is still basically a separate group.

There is no denying the sense that Rob and Rebecca are two different sorts of humans. You are, too. Your differences are very real.

The Brain’s Two Systems

A number of researchers think that there are two systems in the brain and that it is the balance of these two that creates sensitivity (#litres_trial_promo). One system, the “behavioral activation” (or “approach,” or “facilitation,” system) is hooked up to the parts of the brain that take in messages from the senses and send out orders to the limbs to get moving. This system is designed to move us toward things, especially new ones. It is probably meant to keep us eagerly searching for the good things in life, like fresh food and companionship, all of which we need for survival. When the activation system is operating, we are curious, bold, and impulsive.

The other system is called the “behavioral inhibition” (or “withdrawal,” or “avoidance,” system). (You can already tell by the names which is the “good” one according to our culture.) This system is said to move us away from things, making us attentive to dangers. It makes us alert, cautious, and watchful for signs. Not surprisingly, this system is hooked up to all the parts of the brain Kagan noted to be more active in his “inhibited” children.

But what does this system really do? It takes in everything about a situation and then automatically compares the present to what has been normal and usual in the past and what should be expected in the future. If there is a mismatch, the system makes us stop and wait until we understand the new circumstance. To me this is a very significant part of being intelligent. So I prefer to give it a more positive name: the automatic pause-to-check system.

But now consider how one might have a more active pause-to-check system. Imagine Rob and Rebecca coming to school one morning. Rebecca sees the same classroom, teacher, and children as were there yesterday. She runs off to play. Rob notices that the teacher is in a bad mood, one of the children is looking angry, and some bags are in the corner that were not there before. Rob hesitates and may decide that there is reason for caution. So sensitivity—the subtle processing of sensory information—is the real difference once again. Notice how psychology has described the two systems as having opposing purposes. How like the opposition I described in the last chapter between the warrior-king class and the royal-advisor class.

This two-system explanation of sensitivity also suggests two different types of HSPs. Some might have only an average-strength pause-to-check system but an activation system that is even weaker. This kind of HSP might be very calm, quiet, and content with a simple life. It’s as if the royal advisors are monks who rule the whole country/person. Another kind of HSP could potentially have an even stronger pause-to-check system but an activation system that is also very strong—just not quite as strong. This kind of HSP would be both very curious and very cautious, bold yet anxious, easily bored yet easily overaroused. The optimal level of arousal is a narrow range. One could say there is a constant power struggle between the advisor and the impulsive, expansive warrior within the person.

I think Rob is this type. Other young children, however, are described as so quiet and uncurious that they are in danger of being ignored and neglected (#litres_trial_promo).

What type are you? Does your pause-to-check/advisor system rule alone, thanks to a quiet activator/warrior-king system? That is, is it easy for you to be content with a quiet life? Or are the two branches that govern you in constant conflict? That is, do you always want to be trying new things even if you know that afterward you will be exhausted?

You Are More Than Genes and Systems

Let’s not forget that you are a complicated being. Certain investigators, such as Mary Rothbart of the University of Oregon (#litres_trial_promo), are adamant that temperament is quite a different matter when you study adult humans, who can reason, make choices, and exert willpower to follow through on their choices. Rothbart believes that if psychologists study children and animals too much, they will overlook the role of human thinking and a lifetime’s experience.

Let’s go over your development, and Rob’s, as Rothbart sees it, and how being sensitive would differ at each stage.

At birth, an infant’s only reaction is negative—irritability, discomfort. Sensitive babies like you and Rob were mainly different in being more irritable and uncomfortable—what Kagan called “highly reactive.”

At about two months the behavioral-activation system becomes functional. Now you showed an interest in new things in case they might satisfy your needs. Along with that came a new feeling—anger and frustration when you did not get what you wanted. So positive emotions and anger were possible, and how much you felt them depended on the strength of your activation system. Rob, having both systems strong, became an easily angered baby. But sensitive babies with a low activation system would be placid and “good” at this age.