Highly sensitive and African/Black - What happens to soft Black beings?
making more space for soft black existence
“Being highly sensitive does not at all rule out being, in your own way, a tenacious survivor.” — Elaine N. Aron, The Highly Sensitive Person: How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You
What happens to soft Black beings? Soft Black people? In other words, Black HSPs (Highly Sensitive Persons)?
One big factor that made the therapist I chose the right one, was the fact that she had knowledge about HSP, that she as a black person had knowledge about HSP, that she as an African woman had knowledge and acknowledgment for HSP qualities and how it influences one’s life.
Most of my journey as an HSP, with the identity of a Black African woman, has been about validating my own experiences. Even when society challenged or ignored me, when it insisted that a Black woman could be anything but sensitive, I knew my truth. We are often expected to be hard, to endure, to face harsh realities without flinching. And yet, life does not soften for soft Black beings. What has softened, however, is my acceptance of this part of my identity. Also, to include that doesn't mean you are weak even though you are allowed to feel weak, that you are still resilient and capable of overcoming harshness.
If you’re feeling puzzled, maybe I should clarify what it means to be an HSP. One great resource is Dr. Elaine N. Aron’s research on the subject. Her website not only provides insights but also offers a test to determine whether you are an HSP. Finding such resources has been crucial for me. Depending on the culture and environment you grow up in, being highly sensitive can feel like a curse. It can lead to internalizing negative societal labels. But as you learn more, as you find community, you begin to understand yourself better. You become less judgmental about how you need to navigate life.
On my own journey as an HSP, I started thinking more about other black/African HSPs, the ones I could now spot out through my own understanding, the ones still in the mess of trying to not be who and what they are. As previously mentioned, the world can be a rather harsh place for black people in general, but god-forbid you also happen to be a very sensitive one at that. During my own upbringing (which thankfully for this particular subject, a good part of it took place in Denmark) it was interesting navigating it as a black HSP. My family had long accepted the presence of tears during touching commercials, movies or even sometimes music if I really felt moved. They tried to understand how easily affected I was by certain things. Yet, none of us knew why, except that, that is just what I did? And I assumed everyone was also like me inside, except they were much better at handling life? They could contain themselves better than I could. My feelings and emotions just always seemed to spill over, through my eyes and face and body expression.
A difficult childhood can deeply impact an HSP’s development. HSP children who experience trauma often struggle with depression, anxiety, perfectionism, codependency, eating disorders, or other coping mechanisms in the pursuit of finding love, comfort, and belonging. And this is just the experience of the average HSP - without even factoring in race, sexuality, economic standing, or other environmental pressures that people of color face.
In many Black and African homes, there is little space to simply be as we are. If you need extra understanding, care, or presence as a child, it can be even more challenging, especially if your family believes your sensitivity is something to be shamed or forced out of you.
I think about this when I think about our Black boys, our sensitive Black boys. When I was in Brazil, I met a family member of my then partner, who was one of the gentlest, softest, and most sensitive souls I had encountered. He loved animals, smiled easily, and spoke softly. He had a predictable routine: walks around the farm at sunset, his fluffy cats trailing behind him, singing or talking to himself, processing life in his own way. He was deeply attuned to the world, quick to pick up on both good and bad cues, easily overwhelmed by chaos.
I felt for him. In our big, extroverted, lively home in Brazil, only a few sensitive people in the family truly understood and appreciated him. Most saw something wrong with him. “He’s too shy, too special, too withdrawn, too alone, he needs to change.” It broke my heart. There was nothing wrong with him except that he did not fit into what his environment valued. And I feared what that might do to his own sense of self-worth. Had my Portuguese been any better I would have told him all this and more. But instead, when it was just us on the farm, I would smile with appreciation at him as he took his walks, if I made food, I wouldn´t force him to come to the main house and eat with us as was often the tradition, instead I would take his food to him or let him know there was food and he could eat whenever he wanted. That we were going to watch a movie or start a bonfire and he was welcome to join if he felt like it and sometimes he did but other times he enjoyed his solitude in peace and bliss. I understood that. I saw him.
Sadly, that is often not the case for the environments where little sensitive black boys and girls grow up, where the houses often are filled up with beings still healing or stuck in pains. Where loudness is the preferred volume and the need for boundaries or privacy as a child is seen as a form of disrespect towards your caregivers. Where you are an extension of your parents and codependency is encouraged and accepted. Because you can have no peace of mind if your parents are anxious, angry, toxic or stressed.
I feel as though that has been the hardest part; accepting and implementing what I have accepted about myself into how I navigate the world and knowing that it is alright if I want or need to take things slower, even against my own very sometimes critical mind. It is okay to not check off everything on my to-do-list that I thought I could get down, simply because something happened in the morning that totally threw my energy off and that I need to make space to process. It is okay to seek comfort and to only dare to dare when I have acquired enough of the comfort I need to feel less overwhelmed. It is okay to be picky about who I spend my time with and for how long, okay to cry because it is another way of releasing when feeling overwhelmed. Most of all, I am, you are okay as you are, worthy of love and embracing as you are. To remember that soft, gentle, delicate, and sensitive are also black things.
It´s also okay that not everyone is going to get it or make space for it or care or accept, but that just you knowing and understanding and making space for yourself, will be more than soothing enough. That it is a blessing to be so engaged with life, even in subtleness. Your awareness is a gift. Once you figure out how to work with yourself instead of against yourself, you will truly feel what a blessing it is.
There is a lot to explore concerning blackness and sensitivity because there is soo much to unlearn and heal! For now though, my fellow soft ones, know that you are not alone, that you are an important part of our community because you feel where the hurt is so deeply and you live like canary birds in the coal mines of our homes; detectors of danger and pain and eager to find healing. Healing and soothing that not only you need but our communities too.
So, feel on, (cry on if that is what is needed) and may life always remind you, through the soft petals of the rose and the delicate wings of the butterflies and the soft sounds of hidden rivers, that this world was made to thrive from the balance of everything sturdy and hard and also all that is soft, that flows and soothes. Being you, knowing and accepting yourself is how you celebrate and give back to that balance.
With love, courage, and softness
Writers note: I really wanted to have this here as part of my substack content - it is a re-editted blogpost from my website bloombabybloom. Hope it finds you and comforts you.