The Highly Sensitive Child: Helping our children thrive when the world overwhelms them

One way to describe this book is to say it is essentially about what you can do to create a good fit between you and your child. Since each of you are individuals, this book will sometimes miss something important about one or both of you. That is why I am saying right here that it is smart to have a top-notch temperament counselor or therapist aware of temperament to whom you can turn while raising your HSC. That way you do not have to go looking for someone when you feel you’re in a crisis. You have a professional to help you with your taxes or when buying a house. Why not with parenting?

This book can, however, take you a long way with your HSC, because there is so much that HSCs have in common that most “child experts” do not know. We will begin with one of the big ones: To create a “good fit” you must learn to appreciate your child’s excruciating sensitivity to you, the One in Charge. Fortunately, although I did not know it, I had been forced to appreciate this reality even before I had my own HSC.

The Beagle and the Border Collie

As I said in Chapter 1, the fact that there are different breeds of dogs is a good way to understand that there can be different “breeds” of children, too. We know some dog breeds are well suited for some owners, but not for others—that’s why there are so many. But the owners can also learn to adapt to the temperaments of their dog. If they learn in time.

When I was young, my parents bought me a beagle I promptly named Star. If you know beagles, they are generally tough little dogs with a nose that takes them exploring everywhere, at which times they could care less about you or anything else but The Scent. I suppose they are sensitive in their noses, but nowhere else. When Star was about a year old, my mother and I became involved in obedience training and eventually she, then I, tried to show Star in dog shows. In the show ring she was an angel while on a leash, but once off it, she was out of there, running sometimes for blocks, following the aroma of her Holy Grail. Later we bought poodles to train and show—they were perfect for obedience shows, but they were high-strung performers, terribly nervous and demanding of attention.

After I left home and married, I wanted another dog and another breed. I did not know why (not knowing yet that I was highly sensitive or that dogs could vary on this trait), but I had always admired border collies—those black-and-white dogs that herd sheep. I was sure they would be perfect for showing in obedience-training shows. So I bought one, and soon had a devoted, intelligent companion.

This dog, Sam, seemed able to read my mind. Housebreaking was easy—I just took her outside while she was “making her first mistake,” and she never made another. She only tore up one object while teething—I was home later than usual one evening and I found bits of an old paperback for a psychophysiology course, appropriately titled Animal Emotions, all over the floor. Had she learned to read?

When Sam was nine months old I put on a choke collar and took her out for her first obedience lesson, learning to sit. I gave her backside a smart slap (I had been taught that a push would cause the dog to resist and push back), jerked the collar to bring her head up and get her attention, and said “sit.” She collapsed on the ground, quivering. Since that was the wrong response, I got her to her feet and repeated the standard way to train a dog to sit—spank, jerk, order. She crouched lower to the ground, shook more, her eyes pleading with me, “Why? What have I done?”

I knew enough to stop and think it over. But the next day I tried the same method. I knew that once she did it right I could praise her and she would understand that better. But first she had to sit properly.

By the time I figured out that a gentle pressure and kind word would do it, I had almost ruined her. In fact, she never got over shaking and crouching when I brought out that collar. She learned to sit, stay, heel, and much more, once I got it that all she needed was to understand what I wanted: Wait here, go rest in the corner, meet me here later, fetch it, carry it, herd away the cows, gather up the puppies, keep the baby in the yard. Often she knew what was needed before I did—like bringing my husband and me together when we had lost each other in the woods at night, or driving off a burglar. (The joke in my family growing up was that Star the beagle would have gone off with any burglar with a hot dog in his pocket.)

It was natural for Sam to know what was needed and to care enough about us to do it because she was so sensitive. As for the dog shows, we never went to any—something about her made me not want to take advantage of her goodwill by making her a public spectacle.

I doubt that any method would have made Star the beagle consistently obedient when her leash was off, but the usual methods worked well enough to teach her what I wanted. Sam needed much more specialized skills and thoughtfulness on my part. That is how it is when an animal or child can almost read your mind and be quite overwhelmed by a harsh word from you, the beloved authority. I still did not “officially” know about this trait when my son was born. I did not know until he was grown and gone. But Sam had given me a good intuitive introduction.

Not Knowing How Makes Parenting Anything but Satisfying

I had thought of myself as a very good dog trainer when I started in with Sam, and there was a showcase full of trophies and ribbons to prove it. But Sam humbled me. She also made me feel guilty for causing her so much stress, bewildered as to why the usual methods did not work, depressed about myself for failing, angry with her for being such a wimpy dog, and isolated (if the standard methods did not work, who could I turn to for help?). I obsessed about why she was acting so strangely, and when I redoubled my efforts I only made her worse. At that point, training Sam was not satisfying.

Lack of skill in parenting an HSC can cause the same emotions. You think you are pretty good at parenting, especially if you have some experience with children. Then along comes this child who humbles you. I have heard parents talk about all of it: feeling guilty for their child’s obvious suffering at their hands, public embarrassment about their child’s shyness, fussiness, tears over “nothing,” fears, and so forth. There is the bewilderment. And for some parents there is depression, especially as sleepless nights pile up. There is anger, a sense of inadequacy, isolation from other parents with “normal” children. Some parents feel victimized, trapped, overinvolved. It can affect a marriage, the other children, and a parent’s health. And it is definitely not satisfying.

DIFFICULT VERSUS EASY HSCs

Parenting certain HSCs is also more difficult than parenting others. Some are real “drama queens” and demanding “little princes.” This partly depends on other aspects of their temperament, such as their persistence, flexibility, and emotional intensity, plus the child’s role models and general environment. (If your frustration, or anything else in your life, is making you upset, demanding, or out of control, you can hardly expect your child to be different.)

I also find that parents who are more accepting of the trait and generally available and responsive to their child are the ones, ironically, whose HSCs are more “trouble” when small. This is because their child feels free to express his feelings—to get angry, wildly excited, frustrated, hurt, frightened, and overwhelmed. Once the feelings are out, however, the skilled parent teaches the child how to cope with them.

Parents who are less available and responsive—perhaps they are overwhelmed themselves, or not comfortable with intense emotions—may cause an HSC to hide her feelings in order to be accepted and not cause any trouble. But the child never learns to cope with these bottled-up feelings, and they usually resurface in other ways in adulthood, when it is much harder to fix. So I always worry a bit when parents tell me that their HSC “never caused us any trouble at all.”

The Vicious Cycle

With those of you who are trying so hard, only to find that your child is still not happy, outgoing, and “normal,” I often see a vicious cycle: You worry, you try harder to shape your child to meet your expectations, your child does not behave the way you want (because he cannot), so you worry more, try harder, and so forth. Both you and he feel like failures. So we return to the first advice in this book: Realize that your child’s unusual behaviors are not your fault and not your child’s fault. HSCs are not being difficult on purpose!

This cycle is more common with nonsensitive parents of an HSC—a situation thoroughly discussed in the next chapter. But even highly sensitive parents can be unsure how to cope with an HSC and desperately wish their child was different.

Mitchell’s Mother Finally “Gets Out of Her Own Way”

Mitchell’s mother did not realize that she and her son were both highly sensitive. Sharon had been raised in a pretty tough, not very sensitive family. She did not remember consciously adapting to them. She just did.

But she was very sensitive to her new baby, Mitchell. She loved to sing, and she could not miss the signs that her baby did not like to be sung to. When he was older, he did not like to sing either—at least not in the children’s choir in which she had planned to see him shine. Sharon was equally frustrated when he would not wear a costume at Halloween and still needed a pacifier at four. And she was sad that “he couldn’t initiate—I saw him as always the follower, the imitator, never the leader.”

Then a speaker came to Mitchell’s preschool and talked about sensitive children. “Suddenly,” Sharon said, “the light went on.” She went on to tell me how much she wishes she had understood sooner and “gotten out of my own way and stopped judging my parenting. Deep down I had known what to do. But I was not doing it and was blaming myself for the results, especially when the rest of the family thought there was something wrong with what I was doing. Now all that is over. I mold myself to fit his behavior. I let him tell me what he needs.

“And he has so many wonderful qualities, too—his sweetness and gentleness. So if he doesn’t want to run off and do a skit at our family reunion, now it’s not a big deal to me. It’s almost a pleasure to say, ‘No, he doesn’t want to do it.’ It feels good to understand so well when others don’t.”

THE SIX MOST COMMON PROBLEMS

So let’s get to work by discussing six facets of your child’s high sensitivity and how each, although neutral in itself, can cause certain problems for you as a parent until you have the right skills. You will also begin to learn some of those skills in this chapter.

1. Awareness of Subtleties

What a wonderful quality in some situations: your daughter notices your every loving glance and returns it, can tell you when her little brother is hungry before you ever thought about a feeding, and functions like a living smoke alarm, letting everyone know if there is a bit of smoke anywhere, even from the next-door neighbor’s chimney. In other situations, what a pain. In particular, HSCs notice when the smallest thing is not to their liking. “There’s some skin left on this apple—you know I hate skin.” “This room stinks” (you cannot smell a thing unusual). “You moved my computer, didn’t you?” “Yes, that’s the flavor I like, but the wrong brand—this kind tastes chalky.”

Not all HSCs notice subtleties. There are a few who seem fairly oblivious, being more preoccupied with their inner world. Or they may be bothered more by intensity—loud noise, bright lights, or spicy foods—and less by subtle stuff. Or they may only notice subtleties in one area—just food or clothing or social nuances. But with an HSC, it’s bound to come up somewhere.

Chapter 7 will focus on coping with the problems that arise with this quality of HSCs. In the meantime, here are some general pointers:

 Believe your child. When your child says it hurts, rubs, or stings, it does, even if the same thing doesn’t bother you.

 With little HSCs, keep them fed and rested—they will be less irritable and better able to wait for you to relieve a discomfort.

 When HSCs are old enough to understand you, first acknowledge your child’s discomfort, then let him know when and how it will end or that you simply cannot do anything about it if that is truly the case. If you have first conveyed sincere respect for your child’s response and sympathy for his desperate need, and your own valid reason to delay or do nothing—you have to finish the shopping, get to the car where there are dry clothes, use up this brand because you cannot afford to waste it—he will grow in the ability to understand that and wait.

 Put limits on what you can be expected to do. Some children find their shoelaces uncomfortable, but even if you tie them fourteen times they will still feel all wrong, possibly because your child is so focused on this sensation and frustrated. Discuss it when you are not tying shoes—that you will try five times, trying to follow her instructions. The fifth time will have to suffice because you’ve become frustrated, too, or do not have the time to continue.

 Stick to your standards of politeness and good public behavior, but remember emotions are sometimes irrational and overwhelming, even for adults. If your child is losing all control over what seems like a “small matter,” solve the situation for now as best you can, or if you cannot, let your HSC cry or scream while you simply hold her (if young) or stay with her and sympathize. When things are calm, perhaps the next day, the two of you can discuss what needs to be done so that she will behave better the next time.

 When possible, put your child in charge of the solution. A parent with a son who is fussy about socks has him choose the ones that will not bother him. If there are none, it is not mom or dad’s fault.

2. Being Easily Overstimulated and Overaroused

As I said in Chapter 1, a child who notices subtleties will also become overwhelmed when too much is coming at once. (The “too much” can come from outside, but also from inside, as when a child imagines something very frightening or exciting.)

The more stimulation, the more the body becomes aroused to deal with it. Every animal and human seeks just the right level of arousal—it’s as automatic as breathing. Too little and we are bored, restless. We put on the radio or call a friend. Too much and we are uncomfortable, rattled. We try to calm down, but if we can’t, we perform poorly at whatever task we are doing—hitting a ball, solving a math problem, thinking of things to say in a conversation. HSCs become overaroused more easily. That means your daughter may be perfectly able to catch a softball when the two of you play catch at home, but in a game she drops the ball as often as she catches it. She starts to hate playing, she cries during games, yet she wants to play and you want her to. You think, why so much drama around a simple game of ball? Do you make her play or let her quit?

First, understand that HSCs will have areas in which overarousal causes great difficulty. These are usually activities in which, early on, they have had a failure or imagined they would have one. The next time they try they are more aroused and anxious rather than more relaxed, so they do even worse. But performance anxiety is not always the culprit—they can be eager to perform and confident and still be overaroused by the lights and the crowd.

Can we ever see this proneness to overarousal as a good thing? Overarousal itself is never helpful, but needing so little to reach a comfortable level has its uses. HSCs are usually less easily bored, for example. And they are more caring, involved performers in situations when others might not make an effort.

Are there HSCs who do not become easily overaroused? Most have some areas in which they are so at ease that they can function smoothly even under great pressure or conditions of high stimulation. But in other areas, the overarousal usually appears. Chapter 7 will help with dealing with overarousal in general, and Chapter 8 will help when it leads to shyness in social situations. In the meantime, here are some general pointers:

• See that your child has an area of competence—a sport, form of art or self-expression, academic subject, magic show, comedy routine, experiences of chatting with interested adults, or leading other kids in a fantasy game. Choose something he is interested in and start slowly, seeing that at first every attempt meets with success.

With my son this worked with drama and writing. When I enrolled him in an acting class at age eight, I actually asked the teacher to praise him—he had had so many failures in sports. He came out of his first class beaming: “She says I’m a born actor!” He never missed a class after that.

With writing, I made a point of seeing that he never handed in a paper that was not typed and well done. The good grades and praise made him love it.

• See that your child is so overrehearsed and so skilled that nothing will faze her. Practice in the same circumstances and setting as she will actually be performing the skill. Go to the baseball diamond to practice. And once your child is prepared for the arithmetic test, give him some problems to do with a time limit and that you will grade afterward. Never let an HSC go into a test or performance underprepared.

• Talk about things that can go wrong and how to handle them. Talk about mistakes and how to understand them. It is the bottom of the ninth, the score is tied, and your child strikes out. Discuss ahead of time that this is bound to happen at least once in every baseball career. What can your child say to herself and to others to make it bearable? (Does that seem like planting the expectation to fail? Usually, your child will have already imagined failure; you are planting the seed of coping.)

• Explain the effect of overarousal on performance and comfort. Explain that he has the skill, but nervousness (or noise, a new setting, an audience, or other overstimulation) can sometimes interfere. Tell your child this story: I knew a woman who could break world records in her sport at small contests, but could never do it at the Olympic trials. She and I had to conclude that the Olympics did not identify the best athletes, but the best athletes under conditions of very high stimulation.

• See that some of your child’s competencies are not ones that can be much affected by pressure—for example, artwork, skilled care for a pet or plants, and physical activities like long-distance running or hiking in which one meets personal goals.

• Help your child enjoy a variety of activities at a noncompetitive level—singing with you in the car or doing a play for a supportive family audience. She does not have to try out for choir or join the drama club to enjoy these. If a talent does appear, you can always encourage it, but “being a pro” is less important than enjoying.

3. Deep Inner Reactions

Although reactions subside once an HSC is familiar with a situation, during the initial processing, reactions can spiral higher. As I said in Chapter 1, because HSCs process everything more fully, they also have stronger emotional reactions. The more that a new emotional situation is experienced and its full implications and consequences imagined, the more impact it will have. That means more happiness, joy, satisfaction, contentment, and ecstasy. And more miserable feelings, too.

These intense reactions do not require a fully developed, conscious mind. They start in infancy and are present in small children, even if they cannot talk about them. Older children, who can talk about feelings, still may not be conscious of them—we all repress feelings if they seem unacceptable. These repressed feelings show up as physical symptoms or inexplicable, displaced emotions. The classic example, seen frequently by child therapists, is a child who claims to be delighted with a new little brother or sister, a reaction that the parents of course brag about to everyone. But the child is now terrified, maybe, of being eaten by dogs or using the toilet or pictures of monkeys. These weird fears go away when a wise parent or therapist gets the child to play games like the big dog eating the baby dog, followed perhaps by an honest discussion of all the different, normal feelings people have, including anger, and some of the feelings a new brother or sister can create. Some feelings we only talk about—we do not do what they make us feel like doing—but they are still okay to have.

Even when the emotions are not worrisome, like hating one’s baby sister, HSCs may not show their tumultuous inner life to the rest of the world. The introverts—70 percent of HSCs—will often keep it all inside. The intense and extroverted HSCs will express themselves more.

HSCs are often even more distressed than other children by unfairness, conflict, or suffering; for example, they may be deeply sad about the loss of the rain forests, racial injustice, or the mistreatment of animals. They tend to foresee dire consequences. They are usually quite disturbed at seeing other children teased. They lose their appetites if their parents have a fight. It is all typical stuff for children, except stronger.

Are there exceptions? Always. Some HSCs are able to develop strong self-regulation of their own emotions, perhaps even too strong. How much feeling to feel is a question all people face (although some have less choice), and the answer is often decided by culture and the family style, and particularly by what parents teach a child about emotional expression. Usually nothing needs to be said to teach an HSC to control her emotions. She senses what is wanted. For example, parents who are embarrassed or afraid of the strength of their own feelings or the feelings of their child will convey by their avoidance of emotions that feelings are best kept unexpressed. On the other hand, if an HSC lives with parents who often lose control emotionally and he has inherently strong emotional self-regulation abilities, he may decide total control is preferable to the chaos created by his parents.

We will talk more about handling strong emotions in Chapter 7, but here are some general suggestions:

 Think about how you handle emotions and how you want your child to handle them. Think about each emotion: sadness, fear, love, happiness, anger, and curious excitement. Which ones were not allowed when you were growing up? Are you teaching the same lessons to your child?

 Read up on “emotional intelligence.” Mary Kurcinka’s Kids, Parents, and Power Struggles is excellent for helping parents become sound emotional coaches for their children. Her book has whole lists of tips for the parents of any sort of child: For example, listen to the emotions first rather than lecture about the behaviors, teach your child what soothes and calms her, and get to know your child’s emotional cues so you can help her recognize her feelings.

 Talk to your HSC about emotions. These children in particular need to be able to name what they are feeling and what might have caused it so that they can feel more in control over the inner tumult. Talk about how you have handled similar feelings.

 Strive to “contain” your child’s negative emotions until your HSC can do it for herself. Ideally, you go off to a quiet place and let the child fully express the feelings while you remain calm and non-defensive. Your attitude should be “tell me more, tell me all about it, and what else, and what else.…” This full expression will allow both of you to later get at what was the real cause, and meanwhile your child can feel all that is happening inside without having to endure it alone. You will hold it with her until, with years and experience, she can hold it alone. We will consider this containing task more in Chapter 7.