My Bittersweet Relationship With Being An Empathic Soul

This post may just resonate with you if you too are a deep feeler.

If you too have come from a place of being so IN the feelings of others that at times it feels alien and even painful to be of this world.

If you’ve ever felt out of place in life or told you were too sensitive for your own good, well, I feel you, I know you, I am you.

This article is all about an amazing shift that I recently experienced as an empathic soul, and the CHOICE I made to get over myself and out of my own way.

But first, let’s dive into my former life as a full-on empathic woman.

See, I used to absorb the feelings, the pain, the angst, and the energy of all. Man, woman, child and even all the animals. Heck, as a child, I probably would have told you I felt the emotions of each tree across from my childhood cottage in New Hampshire…

But of course, at some point on this journey into adulthood, I stopped sharing such a unique (okay, weird) perspective because let’s face it, at one point people who said sh*t like that were witches and burned at the stake.

But I didn’t drop the burden of all.

I willingly carried the weight of the world on my small-boned shoulders since I was a wee lass.

And all this feeling and angst and absorbing of all nearly broke me just a little over a year ago…

Ever felt that way? So overpowered by the energy, the emotion, the very act of living and caring so deeply that you felt drained?

If you’re anything like I was and can feel that, you’ll want to keep reading this post which is all about my discovery of being a true empathic soul.

See, I want to share this via a story but first let me share what brought on this massive insight, this coming-to-a-head moment where it being empathic was either going to break me or have to shift in some way, shape or form.

You may remember from an earlier post that I found my childhood dream, my writer’s retreat, in a little cottage overlooking the sea. If you missed it, this article is worth a read as it shows just how possible dreams are to manifest!

When I first arrived on my tropical island retreat, I’d hear a baby goat cry for its mom, which sounds surprisingly human, and I’d react.

My heart would pound, my ears would tune in, my stomach would drop and I’d run outside to come to the little one’s aid.

But first, I’d have to find where the little cry was coming from. See, my little island is mountainous and the wind carries sound.

So those cries, they carried up to my little cottage on a hill, overlooking the sea, on the tropical breeze — daily.

I quite literally lived in a constant state of anxiety.

Here’s the wailing of a small infant and to my soul it didn’t seem to matter a drop that it wasn’t human. And to my ear, and to most, it sounds as human as a human infant can get!

In fact, for the first 6 months, I was unable to tell the difference. And even two years later, I question baby or goat, baby or goat when I hear the cry.

The difference now, I am no longer in a state of turmoil when I hear that sound.

This state of unrest, this heart-pounding jolt, this adrenaline rush and my unchecked mad need to save the proverbial day, went on for more than a year. In addition, to spice things up, I lived in a constant construction zone, a different type of unsettled.

And to top of my level of crazy, one of those crying baby goats, one that I’d heard in the middle of pitch black, windy night, but had no possibility of located, managed to come directly to my back door the next morning and cry instantly for me.

This little dude became my very own baby goat the morning of May 3rd, nearly 2 years ago. But more on his story to come in another post, a story that will actually tie into the shift of being a true empathic soul complete with a new understanding of energetic boundaries.

But for this article, I’d like to share a story with you and the shift in myself from being all-consumed, and frankly, all-about-me, empathic and how I discovered a new, lighter way that offered me such freedom and the ability to be (finally) of true service in another’s time of need.

See, in the past, being an empath was all about me. All about how hard it was, the toll it took on me, the pain of being one so sensitive.

I learned that a true empath is one who has boundaries.

I discovered that a true empath is one who does feel but doesn’t marinate in the feelings to the point of exhaustion, physical pain, and personal heartache.

I understood that a true empath is one who instead holds the space for others to feel what they feel while honoring another’s ability to be, to grow, to cope in their own way and time.

A mentor of mine loves to say, “The universe doesn’t test you, it reflects you.” And recently, this opportunity to see my own empathic reflection — my own growth — took place.

I’d like to share that moment with you now…

Becoming A New Version Of Empathic

This past summer there was an accident that resulted in the “tragic” loss of my neighbor’s life at 39 years of age. 

A heart-centered man, more than 6 feet 3 inches tall, he left behind 3 boys, all under the age of 17. 

And while that in and of itself, a “senseless” death, was something I had to accept, as he’d become a friend, a gentle soul with a ready smile, helping hand and watchful-brotherly-eye when my husband was off-island, I already had peace from marinating fully in a year of self-discovery...

I was no longer the woman who felt everything,

Who swam in the pain of others.

Who absorbed it all, the troubles, strife and sorrows of the world, as though it was mine to own.

Who hurt so deeply for others that it was often times hard to be IN this world…OF this world. 

But now, I had distance. Space. An ability to CHOOSE…to realize this man’s karma was his to own,

To see that his life, while cut-short by my “earth-bound” terms, but by universal-language…who knew...

His passing here was the opening to possibility elsewhere. 

And I could now FEEL that…I could now sink into that…and find the beauty.

It took a moment, but it came...the peace, acceptance, the lack of sinking into the emotions, the drama that comes with a sudden passing… 

Just as the recent passing of those lost in the LA helicopter accident recently that claimed the lives of so many including Kobe Bryant and his 13-year-old daughter, Gia, along with seven other beautiful souls…is perhaps an opening… 

Yet, this is not a normal way to look at loss. At death. Now is it?

In fact, some may feel it insensitive and cruel. 
And that’s okay.

Some may feel this loss, any loss, so deeply it keeps them from functioning, even though those gone are not personally known to them.

And this used to be me… feeling every single loss.

Absorbing every little thing.
Taking it all to heart.
Personally.

And that’s key — taking it all so gosh-darn-personally.

But now, now I can sink into a new horizon of possibility that comes in the passing of one’s life on this planet. 

And “tragic” loss was something I have personal experience with. 

How the pain can be gripping, debilitating in it’s all-consuming squeeze. That was me, when I lost my fiancé in a helicopter crash back in 2004.

And while this man was a neighbor and a new friend, and yes, close to home, as I saw him daily for a wave, a smile, a chat…there was distance for me on one level.

And on the other, not so much, as this accident happened just feet from my property line.

For those who are empathic, you may not realize or you may, that much of what is FELT is energy. 

Being empathetic can involve feeling and absorbing the energy around us and without an ability to create clear boundaries around that energy...it’s overwhelming, painful even. 

That was so me. 

No boundaries. 

My Fabulous Frenchman would tell me about African skull crushers, where, yep, they shrunk skulls down and put them in their pockets for whatever reason and I’d be horrified for...years. 

I’d carry that thought, that VISION, in my mind for not just days, weeks or months but years. 

He’d share something about an animal that was wounded and the graphic details or god-forbid, before he KNEW me, the image…

He’d tell me about his time as a detective in the French Police and before I could stop him, just one word could send me spiraling with a string of visual images that I was powerless to stop or forget (at that time).

And I’d be a basket case, literally (choosing) to suffer for hours, days, weeks, months, longer over an animal, a person or a situation that I’d never touched or be a part of. 

At the time, of course, I did not realize it was a CHOICE to feel this way, to be affected like this. 

At the time, I thought I was broken…

And often heard the well-meaning words of my father…”You’re too sensitive.”

And I slowly bought into my husband’s theory that I needed to shed the “rose-colored glasses” and see the world through real-eyes, through facts and through “people are evil” eyes. 

Basically, to suck it up and toughen up. 

He meant well and I CHOSE to step into this view…or try.

And it was SO incredibly painful. 

To go through life thinking I was “broken” and always trying to “toughen up” to please my father, who in all fairness simply didn’t want me to constantly be hurt, let down, disappointed, in pain over the actions of others… 

It was so horribly depressing to need to be “fixed” by a husband who, in all fairness, couldn’t bare to see me so deeply and negatively affected by the news, by the actions of others, by everyday life. Disappointed by our tenants and triggered at every turn. 

My husband simply thought if I became more “logical” and looked at life from a place of “facts” that I’d have an easier path than being “so emotional all the damn time.”

And that lead me down a path of serious depression… 

Because let’s face it, I’m not a fact-based person.

I’m not a logic-first being, I am a feeler.
I am kinesthetic, an empath and…
I am not broken… 

My ability to FEEL makes me a f-ing awesome writer, makes me relatable to others, allows me to teach with compassion, coach with empathy and love wholeheartedly…

Yet, without boundaries

Without true understanding 
Without the knowledge from my guide and mentor
Without some coaching around understanding what I was experiencing...

I was baking in my FEELINGS or stuffing them…

I was broiling in the emotions of others.

I was the always-bubbling broth in an industrial-size pot, constantly under fire and allowing others to stir me sidewise, spin me clockwise and change my temperature at random.

And before I knew better, I allowed others to toss ‘the ingredients of everyday life’ at me, at their will, and destabilize me at every turn. 

I’d spent 40 years in this constant state of stress, unease, emotional highs and lows, not understanding myself nor the world and more drama-filled than a stunning heroine of a Latin TV Novella.

Not knowing how to cope beyond running. 
Beyond two steps forward, five steps back. 
Three steps back into life. 
One step retreat-retreat-retreat!

My life was a constant push-pull. 
Pull-push.

I had so much to say, to offer, to be and do…
However, I was a basket case of emotional cobwebs. 

I learned to stuff the emotions. That saved me. Until it didn’t. 

At first, it was a way to cope. 

In school. 
In life. 

All that stuffing…

Then it made me ill. 
So ill, my body started to shut down. 

And a few times, those emotions, that stuffing, was so toxic it depleted my body of needed minerals like iron and important vitamins. 

Of course, modern medicine won’t back that theory, but now I KNOW. 

And now I can give modern medicine a bit of a middle-finger (with love) because they also don’t know why suddenly my levels are stable when they have not been since my pre-teen years. 

See, I am no longer that liquid broth in someone else’s pot of life. 

I am no longer being tossed to-and-fro
Stirred this way and that
Shared amongst all
Heated to a boil only to be cooled then heated up again. 

I no longer accept the ingredients of others, the trigger of someone else’s fire nor the spinning of my own brain. 

I also no longer allow my emotions to sit and stew or age in my body like a fine French red wine that the next morning gives the mother of all headaches. 

I learned early on to create a sanctuary of my own for my mental health, emotional need to decompress and frankly, my ability to run and hide away from others. 

See, I’m an introvert. 
And I’m an extravert. 

I’m an influencer. 

And I have a deep-rooted need for me-time, down-time, a separation from the energy of others, solo time. 

I learned this after a four-year stint with the husband and raising his two children, each when they were 15 years of age, when I let go of my sanctuary and didn’t have “me” time. 

We saw first-hand that if I don’t have me-time, a space or place to call my own, I die. 

Cell by cell by cell. Literally. It was touch and go there for a bit.

But that too was a gift. 

Gaining that awareness. 

But the biggest gift of all was this past summer with the loss of my friend, my neighbor, and moving into that grief with the same empathic eyes minus the filters I’d carried before. 

Eyes opened wide thanks to all I’ve learned this last year… 

As the accident happened only feet away, and I live on an island, in a little 100+ year old cottage, on a hill, overlooking the ocean, where I sit all day and write - a childhood dream that became my reality (thanks in part to an awesome husband), I did something I’d never had been able to do in the past. 

I opened the doors to my sanctuary, my cottage, to those who needed a place to regroup. 

Living on a five-square mile island means one road. And that road was closed down. 

It means everyone knows your name, like an episode of Cheers. 

It means people become look-y-loos. 

Curious. 
Interested.
Consumed. 

And this man, this tender soul, he was the island Fire Chief. Known. Loved. 

So you can imagine the pain, the deep-rooted loss of those fire/rescue men coming to handle this accident. 

Coming to realize it was one of their own, their boss, their friend, an island native many had grown up with… 

But they also had a job to do. 
They also had a crowd of onlookers to keep back.
They also had their own emotions to keep in check.

And there was no place to simply be, to take a needed breath and to feel before stepping back into the role they were trained to fill. 

So, I gave them that space. 

I opened my cottage doors. 
My sanctuary. 
And I extended my boundaries, by CHOICE, to allow them… 

The police
The fire 
The rescue team
The island priest
The father of the man lost
A safe place to be.

Away from watchful eyes.

And I did not become that simmering broth tossed around by their sadness

Their pain, their grief
Their strength in the face of it all. 

I discovered I could FEEL
I could escape to my shower
(the only place in my cottage behind two closed doors)

And allow myself to FEEL all the sad of others without absorbing and internalizing their experience.

Yes, I cried. 
Yes, I felt sad. 
Yes, I grieved. 

But I also, for the first time ever, almost immediately RELEASED that grief by fully feeling into it. 

And letting it go.

For the first time ever, I felt their energy, the pain of these big men as they came and went from the scene…As they entered my home… 

Some for a bottle of water.
Some for a moment to catch their own breath.

Some to shed a quick tear and mourn for a moment before pushing back their shoulders and marching back out to serve their community, their friend, their chief a final time. 

I felt it all, but from a distance. 

I felt it yet remained whole, me, detached from it. 

For the first time, I KNEW what it meant to be truly empathetic…An empath (with borders). 

It was the ability to FEEL deeply and NOT make it all about me. It was the ability to be fully present for another, for many in this case, and not be consumed by their suffering.

That was the gift I chose to receive through the passing of my friend, and I can still cry from the pure peace he gifted me… 

And yep, I said cry.
Because feeling what I feel when I feel it, makes me strong.

Stuffing those tears made me weak.

Feeling my feelings as they come up
Makes me the powerful woman — blooming into goddess — that I am.
It’s when I sink into that feeling, 

When I CHOOSE to rest in it, lay in it, wrap myself in it like a comfy blanket… 
That’s when I was broken. 

It’s when I CHOOSE to absorb the emotions of others and call them my own 

That’s when I lose my way.

It’s in that moment that I have chosen not to own my own empathic power. 

And now, thanks to my friend, bless him on his new path...

Thanks to self care...
Thanks to self love...
Thanks to coaching through a new way of sharing healthy FEELINGS…

I can love me even more.
I can be a person who feels
Without being an emotional basket case.
I can be sensitive 
And reject the “too sensitive” label.

I can care deeply but not be overwhelmed by anything.

I can instead choose peace.

I can now see the separation between the emotions, the baggage of others, the choices of another and NOT entangle my energy in any of it. 

I can now choose me first. 

I can now protect me, my energy, my peace above all else and this has resulted in such power, such incredible abundance, such clarity and joy that there is no going back. 

It’s now easy where once it seemed impossible to separate me, my emotions and be in this world but not of this world.
I can share the journey through my words, as I am doing here

And know that the message will reach those who most need to hear what it means to truly be empathic.

To truly feel
To truly stand strong
As an empath… 
And no longer choose to lose oneself 

But instead see it as a powerful gift, that is not “all-about-you,” but is simply another way of BEING. 

Just like seeing death as the possibility of a precious gift 

When CHOOSING to look through new, aware eyes.

I wish you a new level of sight… 

And in that a new-found peace that will bring you more JOY than you can imagine. 

If this post resonated with you in any way, please leave a comment below and do share it with a friend or two. You’re here for a reason, and perhaps because you too are an empathic being.

And thus know a few…

Give them the gift of this read today.

And remember, to access all the JOY-SUBSCRIBER CONTENT, which after 24-hours this becomes just that, become a JOY-SUBSCRIBER today.

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Photo Credit: Dennis Alvear Perez @saintdennis_

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