“You are not ‘too sensitive.’ That was just their excuse for being cruel.” – Nikita Gill

 

My Interpretation: They called it sensitivity. But what they could not handle was someone who noticed. Someone who flinched or cringed when it hurt. Someone who asked why love felt like walking barefoot across broken glass. I was not too sensitive – I was just no longer willing to bleed quietly.

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I used to think these things were just… how relationships worked.

That maybe I was dramatic. Sensitive. Too much.

But I was not. I was being slowly unraveled by behaviors I did not know how to name yet.

Here is what I mistook for normal – & what it actually was.

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1. Having to “read the room” before speaking.

What I thought: I was just being considerate.

What it was: Walking on eggshells because the smallest thing could trigger his temper.

I learned to scan his tone, his body language, his silence – all before opening my mouth. That is not communication. That is fear.

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2. Apologizing first, even when I was not wrong

What I thought: I was mature. Keeping the peace.

What it was: Being trained to take the blame so he would not punish me emotionally.

I stopped fighting for fairness. I stopped fighting for fairness. I started begging for calm.

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3. Having no privacy – not even in my own head

What I thought: Transparency builds trust.

What it was: Being interrogated, tracked, guilted, & picked apart.

My texts were not mine. My things were gone through constantly. My thoughts were not mine. I stopped thinking aloud because everything I said could be used against me later.

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4. Being guilted for needing space

What I thought: I was cold. Detached. Robotic in nature & behaviors.

What it was: His discomfort with any boundary that made him feel less in control. Taking advantage of me having a moment for myself to get my thoughts in order.

Needing a moment alone became a betrayal. He was not abandoned – but he made sure I felt like I was the villain anyway.

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5. Only being comforted when I suffered quietly

What I thought: I was too emotional, sensitive, could not “take a joke.”

What it was: His refusal to hold space for anything messy, loud, or inconvenient.

Pain had to look pretty. Sadness had to be silent. Otherwise, I was accused of making a scene. I learned to shrink my pain until it fit in his comfort zone.

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I used to believe I was broken – too sensitive, too reactive, too emotional.

But that was never the problem.

The problem was the way they treated me, then told me my pain was the real issue.

They weren’t uncomfortable with my feelings.

They were uncomfortable with accountability.

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When someone labels you “too sensitive,” it is often an attempt to reframe their cruelty as your flaw.

It is gaslighting disguised as concern.

It teaches you to distrust your gut, dull your reactions, & question your reality.

But sensitivity is not weakness.

It is a survival instinct – & you were right to feel what you felt.

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If you have recognized any of these in your own life – I am so sorry.

It was not normal.

It

Was

Not

Your

Fault.

Naming it now does not make you weak.

It means you are finally safe enough to stop surviving it.

 

Xoxo ♡