I've always been the person standing at the back of the room, watching, observing, waiting. Where my father welcomed people with open arms until they proved otherwise, I built walls first and asked questions later. My ship, as I like to think of it, sails mostly empty because I've learned the hard way that not everyone who asks to come aboard has my best interests at heart.
I'll be honest with you, of all the steps in this journey toward fearless authenticity, this one scares the shit out of me. Building authentic relationships and letting people in is the most difficult step I face. Even family members are kept at arm's length, safely positioned where they can't get close enough to really hurt me. But I've come to realize something that stops me cold: I know I'm missing something really special if I never figure this out.
Yet here's the paradox I've discovered: the very caution that protects me also isolates me. Those early wounds (the third-grade teacher who mocked me in front of the class, the anonymous high school tormentor who left threatening messages on my locker) planted seeds of a question that haunted me for decades: "What is it about me that makes people want to hurt me?"
The answer I created was simple and devastating: there must be something fundamentally wrong with me. So I did what many of us do—I became someone else. In college, I wasn't me. I was the fun girl, the always-ready-to-party girl, indiscriminate and foolish but popular. I traded authenticity for acceptance, depth for surface-level connection. The real me stayed locked away in the inner sanctum, alone but protected, while this manufactured version of myself collected friends and experiences that felt hollow even as they happened.
But after college, I realized how much of what I was choosing to be hurt me deeply. The party girl persona hadn't healed anything. It had just covered the pain with noise and chaos. Every indiscriminate choice, every moment of being foolish just to fit in, had carved deeper grooves in my already wounded sense of self. I wasn't just protecting myself from new hurt; I was carrying the compounded damage of years of self-betrayal on top of the original injuries.
So I stopped being fun. I stopped being the party girl, stopped being indiscriminate, stopped performing for acceptance. But in rejecting that false persona, I swung to the opposite extreme—I became someone who didn't let anyone close enough to hurt me, or to know me, or to matter. The pendulum had swung from reckless openness to complete withdrawal.
The Cost of Cautious Connection
Dr. Brené Brown reminds us that "we cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known." But what happens when being deeply seen has historically meant being deeply hurt? We develop what I call "deck relationships" (connections where people can visit the surface of who we are, but they must disembark before the ship sails to anywhere meaningful).
I learned this pattern well. I would readily accept someone who reached out, who seemed excited to have me in their life, who made the effort. But over the years, I discovered that some people were drawn not to who I was, but to what I could do for them (or, in my college years, what persona I was willing to perform). The party girl was popular, but she wasn't real. And when the parties ended, the loneliness that followed was deeper than if I'd simply been alone. Like the friend who used me as her personal complaint department, venting about a husband she hated (and I mean with every cell of her being), but wouldn't leave because he funded her lifestyle. When I finally recognized the one-sided nature of our relationship and its toxicity, and cut her off, it reinforced my cautious approach: better to be alone than to be used, better to be authentic and isolated than fake and surrounded.
Child psychologist Dr. John Gottman's research on emotional bids, those small attempts we make to connect with others, reveals that people who respond positively to these bids build stronger relationships. But what happens when we've been conditioned to see every bid as potentially dangerous? We stop making them ourselves, and we become hypervigilant about the ones directed toward us.
The Highly Sensitive Person and Relationship Challenges
There's another layer to my story that I've come to understand more deeply: being a highly sensitive person (HSP). Research indicates that high sensitivity is likely an innate trait, rather than a consequence of trauma, although the impact of difficult life experiences may be amplified in individuals with high sensitivity. For those of us who are HSPs, our reactions to early wounds and relationship challenges aren't just about the experiences themselves; they're about how our nervous systems process and respond to them.
HSPs are thought to be more disturbed than others by violence, tension, or feelings of being overwhelmed. They may, as a result, make concerted efforts to avoid situations in which such things are likely to occur. This explains so much about my pattern of standing at the back of the room, keeping my ship sailing alone. It wasn't just psychological protection—it was my highly sensitive nervous system trying to manage overwhelm.
Dr. Elaine Aron's research reveals that HSPs are a subset of the population characterized by a high level of a personality trait known as sensory-processing sensitivity, or SPS. Those with high levels of SPS display increased emotional sensitivity, stronger reactivity to both external and internal stimuli, pain, hunger, light, and noise, and a complex inner life. When you add early trauma to this mix, the combination can be particularly challenging.
Due to the heightened sensitivity and perception of an HSP, their nervous systems are more likely to move outside of their "window of tolerance" (the optimal state of arousal for our nervous system that allows us to function and thrive in daily life) and enter a state of "hyper-arousal" (think our "fight or flight" response) than a non-HSP. The other side of this may look like shutting down, avoiding, or isolating ("hypo-arousal").
This perfectly describes my pendulum swing from the reckless party girl to the cautious person who keeps everyone at arm's length. My HSP nervous system was ping-ponging between states—hyperarousal when I was being indiscriminate and foolish, then hypoarousal when I retreated into isolation.
The Authenticity Paradox in Relationships
Here's what I've learned through decades of guarded living: authenticity in relationships isn't about throwing open the doors and letting everyone in. It's about being genuinely yourself with the people you choose to trust, while developing the wisdom to make those choices consciously rather than reactively.
Psychologist Dr. Kristin Neff's research on self-compassion shows that people who treat themselves with kindness are more likely to form secure attachments with others. This was key for me. I had spent so much time protecting myself from external harm that I hadn't noticed how harshly I was treating myself. Every failed relationship, every betrayal, every moment of being used became evidence of my unworthiness rather than information about compatibility and boundaries. And the years of self-betrayal, choosing to be someone I wasn't, making choices that hurt me just to gain acceptance, had created a layer of shame and self-rejection that made an authentic connection feel even more impossible.
The shift from wound to wisdom began when I stopped asking "What's wrong with me?" and started asking "What do I need to feel safe while still being open to connection?" The answer wasn't to lower my standards or ignore my intuition. It was to honor both my need for caution and my need for connection.
But knowing this intellectually and living it are two different things. I can write about it, think about it, understand it completely—and still feel that familiar terror when someone tries to get too close. The fear isn't rational, but it's real. It's the fear of being seen completely and found wanting, of being vulnerable and having that vulnerability weaponized against me.
Creating Space for Authentic Connection
Dr. Sue Johnson, the developer of Emotionally Focused Therapy, teaches that secure relationships require both accessibility and responsiveness. But for those of us who've been hurt, these qualities feel dangerous. How do we become accessible without becoming vulnerable to exploitation? How do we respond without losing ourselves?
The answer lies in what’s called "conscious vulnerability" (the practice of sharing our authentic selves incrementally, with people who have earned our trust through consistent, caring actions over time). It's not about letting everyone into the inner sanctum immediately. It's about creating multiple levels of connection and being honest about where someone stands.
I've started thinking of relationships as gardens rather than ships. Ships are either sailing together or they're not. Gardens have different areas—some public, some private, some sacred. A new person might be welcomed into the outer garden, where they can appreciate the beauty without disturbing the most precious plants. Over time, with consistent care and respect, they might be invited deeper.
This metaphor has helped me understand that authentic relationships aren't about being completely open with everyone. They're about being genuinely yourself at whatever level of intimacy feels appropriate and safe.
Working Through Relationships as an HSP
For HSPs, the journey to authentic relationships requires understanding that our sensitivity isn't a flaw to overcome—it's a trait to work with. HSPs may be more susceptible to developing PTSD, but they also bring deep empathy, creativity, and self-awareness to their contributions and interactions.
Here's what I've learned works specifically for HSPs navigating relationships:
Honor Your Need for Processing Time: HSPs feel as if they register more details of their environment than less sensitive people do—including sounds, sights, or emotional cues. This means we need time to process interactions and emotions. It's not weakness—it's wisdom. I've learned to tell people, "I need some time to think about what you've shared" rather than feeling pressured to respond immediately.
Recognize Your Empathy as Both Gift and Challenge: HSPs often feel so good about helping others, we end up putting their needs before our own. The friend who used me as her complaint department was able to do so because my HSP empathy made me absorb her emotions as if they were my own. Learning to set boundaries around this natural tendency has been crucial.
Understand Your Nervous System's Needs: Self-care is critical for HSPs, particularly when faced with stressful situations. Getting enough sleep, eating a healthy diet, limiting caffeine and alcohol, and planning for decompression time can all be useful strategies. For me, this means accepting that I need quiet time after social interactions, even positive ones.
Seek Support That "Gets It": This might look like reaching out to friends who also identify as HSPs, or working with a skilled therapist who understands and validates your experience of moving through the world as an HSP. Finding people who understand that your sensitivity is a trait, not a problem to fix, has been transformative.
Harness Your HSP Superpowers: This includes your imaginative and creative capacity, intuition, and ability to access and express deep emotions. My ability to read people and situations, while sometimes overwhelming, has also protected me from truly harmful relationships. Learning to trust this intuition while not letting it paralyze me has been key.
The Practice of Authentic Relationship Building
Psychiatrist Dr. Dan Siegel's work on interpersonal neurobiology shows that our brains are literally wired for connection, but past trauma can disrupt these systems. Healing happens in a relationship, but it requires what he calls "felt safety"—the deep knowing that we can be ourselves without fear of rejection or harm.
Creating felt safety begins with ourselves. It means recognizing that our caution isn't a character flaw; it's wisdom earned through experience. It means honoring our need for boundaries while staying open to the possibility of connection. It means understanding that authentic relationships require both people to show up as themselves, not just one person being endlessly accommodating.
For those of us who've been hurt by letting people in too quickly, and especially for HSPs, building authentic relationships might look like:
Observing how someone treats others before deciding how much to invest.
Paying attention to whether someone's interest in us is reciprocal or extractive.
Noticing whether someone respects our boundaries or constantly pushes against them.
Watching for consistency between someone's words and actions over time.
Trusting our intuition when something feels off, even if we can't articulate why.
Understanding that as HSPs, we may need more time to process interactions and emotions.
Recognizing that our empathy is both a gift and something that needs boundaries.
Accepting that we may need recovery time after social interactions, even positive ones.
The Courage to Be Known
I'm still learning that intimacy, true closeness, safety, and love don't require us to be completely unguarded. They require us to be completely ourselves with the people who've proven they can handle that gift responsibly.
The loneliness of the inner sanctum isn't sustainable, but neither is the exhaustion of constantly performing for others' approval. The middle path is conscious connection, choosing to be authentic while also being discerning about who has access to our most vulnerable selves.
And here's what I'm learning to tell myself on the days when the fear feels overwhelming: the special something I'm missing isn't just about what others can give me. It's about what I can give when I'm not spending all my energy keeping people at a distance. It's about the warmth that comes from being truly known, the relief of not having to carry everything alone, the joy of sharing life's moments with someone who genuinely cares. Again - it scares the you-know-what out of me, but that's what makes it a gift to me, as well as to others.
So here I am, choosing to be fully me and fully loved, fully living. Here I go, taking the leap that terrifies me most. Because I've realized that the cost of staying safe has become higher than the risk of being hurt. The loneliness of perfection, of never being vulnerable enough to be rejected, is its own kind of death. And I want to live. I want to experience the full spectrum of human connection, even if it means risking the pain I've spent decades avoiding.
Dr. Harriet Lerner, in her work on emotional courage, reminds us that "the challenge is not to become fearless but to be ourselves, our best and most authentic selves, with fear." This applies perfectly to relationships. We don't have to eliminate our caution to build authentic connections. We have to learn to be authentically cautious while remaining open to love.
Maybe the goal isn't to stop being scared. Maybe it's to be scared and still take small steps toward connection. Maybe it's to acknowledge that yes, letting people in is terrifying, and yes, it's also the only way to experience the depth of human connection that makes life rich and meaningful.
The woman who stands at the back of the room, who keeps her ship sailing alone, who protects her inner sanctum so fiercely... she's not broken. She's cautious. She's wise. And she's ready to try something new. She's ready to discover what happens when she lets someone join her on the journey, when she allows herself to be fully known and fully loved. The risk is real, but so is the possibility of something beautiful.
A Deeper Dive: A 7-Day Worksheet for Fearless Authenticity
✨ Bonus Resource Just for You! ✨
This week’s Deeper Dive: Authentic Connection Challenge offers a step-by-step reflection journey designed to help you recognize, trust, and act on your intuitive wisdom. Each day builds on the last, creating a foundation for lifelong self-trust.
I’m providing this as a separate, downloadable and fillable resource so you can easily save it, print it, or return to it anytime — no scrolling back through the article required. This is my small thank-you to you, my fellow travelers, for being part of this journey.
Daily Mantra
Carry this mantra with you throughout the week, especially when facing challenges:
"I am choosing to be fully me and fully loved, fully living, and here I go."
Repeat this mantra daily as a reminder to check in with your authentic self before making decisions or responding to external expectations.
Finding Your Tribe
As you continue to navigate social expectations and personal choices, remember that your path is uniquely yours. Embrace the journey, celebrate your accomplishments, and surround yourself with people who support and uplift you.
Join me each Sunday at 10:10 a.m. ET for inspiration, encouragement, and community. Why 1010? In numerology, 1010 symbolizes new beginnings, spiritual awakening, and the realization of our potential.
Resources for Further Exploration
Essential Books on High Sensitivity and Relationships:
"The Highly Sensitive Person" by Dr. Elaine Aron
"The Highly Sensitive Person in Love" by Dr. Elaine Aron
"Sensitive: The Hidden Power of the Highly Sensitive Person in a Loud, Fast, Too-Much World"
Vulnerability and Authentic Connection:
"Daring Greatly" by Brené Brown
"The Power of Vulnerability" (Audio) by Brené Brown
"The Gifts of Imperfection" by Brené Brown
Specialized Resources:
"The Empath's Survival Guide" by Dr. Judith Orloff
"Dodging Energy Vampires" by Dr. Christiane Northrup
Online Resources and Communities:
Highly Sensitive Person official website (hsperson.com) - Dr. Elaine Aron's original site with research updates and resources
Highly Sensitive Refuge - Online community and resource hub for HSPs worldwide
Brené Brown's website (brenebrown.com) - Access to her research, podcasts "Unlocking Us" and "Dare to Lead," and additional resources on vulnerability and courage
Quick Start Recommendation: If you're new to understanding your sensitivity, start with "The Highly Sensitive Person" by Dr. Elaine Aron and pair it with Brené Brown's TED Talk "The Power of Vulnerability" (one of the most viewed in the world with over 60 million views). These two resources will provide a solid foundation for understanding both your trait and the courage required for authentic connection.
Remember: The journey toward authentic relationships is deeply personal. Choose the resources that resonate most with your current needs, and be gentle with yourself as you explore these new insights.
This is the BEST article I have ever read regarding HSP --- thank you for explaining it all so well and providing a load of resources.