Not As Sensitive As It Seems

Introvert. INFJ. HSP. All labels to define me, to give me guidance and understanding for myself and why I work the way I do. These terms have all been crucial for me to understand certain aspects of me, and have helped greatly in my ability to give grace to myself.

For as long as I can remember I’ve needed space to myself. When I was little I’d sit in my closet to read. Not because I needed to in order to escape the noise or a shared bedroom, but because it was yet another door between me and the outside world.

Sometimes I feel like I fail as an introvert because I want to spend time around people (quality people, mind you). Sometimes I feel disconnected and like I’m not sensitive enough because I have some drive to overcome. But these thoughts are still perpetuating those false assumptions people make.

I’m so self-critical. I don’t know if a single day goes by without extreme self-loathing for all the ways I fail to measure up. I’m afraid to be a mother because I know I could never measure up to my mom. She was amazing at so many things, and did so much. And I have no idea how I could possibly even come close.

We all have our own weaknesses and failings. That’s part of being human. But sometimes I don’t really like the human part of me. Sometimes I wish I could be something (or someone) different.

I’m starting to feel again. I’m starting to feel for others again. And I almost don’t know what to do with it. But I know that God is faithful, and He will bring me through this too. This is the opportunity to learn and grow.

I’m also realizing that I value maturity. Not in the sense of taking on responsibility, but in the sense of wisdom and understanding. There’s been a disconnect between me and my husband because we think of maturity differently.

Some things have impacted me far more than I would like, others, hardly seem to phase me at all. I hate this about myself. Because, I don’t feel the things I want to feel, but I do feel the things I don’t. Like Paul I suppose. That’s the nature of sin. It eats away at us, until we’re hollowed out and have nothing left to give.

So many fuller post ideas in this. I don’t have the time or energy to go through and write them now. I have two minutes before switching to my next task. Oh yeah, I hadn’t mentioned, I’m trying out a schedule now. It’s mostly helpful I think. But this also allows me the space to process and take purposeful time to write.

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