Life of an HSP

I have been apologising my whole life to the universe for being sensitive. For being highly sensitive to be precise. Lately I am trying to change that habit slowly. I think people like us, the HSPs, are why the humanity is still functioning. So let's own up to who we truly are. We have survived enough tumultuous waters to be able to afford being who we are, unapologetically. We don't owe anyone a fucking thing. But we owe ourselves. We owe it to our inner child.

People often mistake HSPs with people pleasing pansies though. As far as I know, we are not people pleaser. We don't really care about serving others. That's mostly we can see through others' bullshit only too clearly. You want to be my friend, fine. I will be there for you no matter what. But I am not going to be your maid servant; and vice versa. You don't need to do something to make me happy to prove how much you care about me. If I really give a damn about you, (irrespective of the volunteer servant part) I will not let you do something that you don't like to keep me happy.

I also hate small talk. I hate lame joke. I'm an excellent conversationalist. But I seek substance like the lost souls seek God. So don't ask me if I ate. I have been eating since I was born and I will continue to be doing so even after you are long gone from my life. Don't tell me I'm pretty; I already know that. Hell don't tell me I'm cute; I'm not, BELIEVE ME. 

I don't even fall in love like normal people. Honestly speaking, I am the most asexually sexual person you will ever meet. That romantic puppy love of hesitant kiss and shy glances? Been there, done that. Too many fucking times more than I can even imagine. Probably too old and mature for that now. If I am being shy around you it's probably because my social anxiety is acting up or that I just don't like your energy. Yes, being good in bed is very important but how much is your IQ? How out of the world your wit and your knowledge about the world are? How big of a nerd you are? I don't give a flying fuck about your pansy compassion. I make up enough for that in the equation.

Instead tell me about your hopes and dreams and fears. Tell me what keeps you up at night. Tell me about your favourite show. Tell me how those fictional characters kept you company through those long, dark nights when not a single real fucking person cared to respond to your cry for help. Tell me how you blocked those bastards the next morning and felt absolutely liberated. Tell me about those dark thoughts that you never told anyone, not even your therapist. Show me those scars. Let me trace them with my broken finger. Tell me about the times how you thought the world had ended for you and to your surprise it started again next morning. Let's talk about our favourite book and favourite serial killer. Let me tell you about my favourite mythical character and how I relate to her. Let me pick up a scalpel and draw myself a Y. You will see how my heart still beats like a stubborn motherfucker despite so many band-aids on it. Let's be real, and raw. Let's make a difference for a change. Because you know what, I want more. And I am not going to apologise to a single motherfucker for wanting more.

But don't tell me about your cousin's wedding and expect me to feign interest every fucking time. I'm not your average 'help the humanity' test subject.  Don't come to me to bitch about your colleagues or that nri girl you stalk on Facebook. No matter how many times you call her the loser, in reality, you are a bigger loser than she will ever be. No, I do not feel a single fucking butterfly in my stomach. My butterflies are long dead. They are never coming back. But if you fulfill my above mentioned criteria I might be able to like you enough to tolerate you on those days when I am utterly unlovable, even to myself. I am nobody's happily ever after. I'm someone you jump into the pit of hell with. Believe me I will be with you till the end of the line. Irrespective of your gender, irrespective of whether we have sex or not. I guarantee you full satisfaction. We will definitely die, but we will LIVE. If you can't do that then I'm probably too demonic for your vanilla derriere. But you shouldn't dip your finger into the volcano unless you are smeared in ash yourself.

Just don't ever kid yourself about your indispensability in my life.