Erica Webb SelfKind

12 highly sensitive people, together for 12 weeks to explore their sensitivity and foster their inner kindness. Join us?

Applications are open now and I’d love to welcome you in. DM me for more information or head to the link in my bio.

Oof it hurts to think of her, now.
But I know this experience is one that is shared.
When your sensitivity feels like a liability it’s pretty bloody hard to offer yourself kindness when that sensitivity makes life feel even more challenging.

What I’ve come to learn about being a highly sensitive and neurodivergent human is that I can’t hold myself to expectations that the world have told me I must. Instead I have to learn MY way. I have to listen to my sensitivity, make space for it, respect it … nurture it.

I’m sharing this work with 12 people inside a small group program that starts on Sunday 2nd August. Would you like to join me?

*I recorded and published a full podcast episode about this experience. You can tune into ep 334 of SelfKind wherever you get your podcasts*

After 40 years of feeling like something was off with my vision (despite wearing glasses/contacts for short sightedness and astigmatism) I am now the proud new owner of these blue glasses to help address something called pattern glare sensitivity.

The glasses themselves are proving to be remarkably helpful for me, but more than that, they have been an example of the power of being believed and validated as a sensitive human.

I have spent DECADES trying to get to the bottom of random symptoms - from musculoskeletal pain to vision disturbance and headaches. And I know that this is a painfully relatable experience for many highly sensitive and neurodivergent people.

It can get to the point where you start to believe that maybe you’re just making it all up. And that is truly painful.

Now you might not need coloured glasses - that’s not the point of this post or the podcast ep - but if you’ve felt unseen and misunderstood in your challenges? I see you. And I’m sorry. You deserve better.

As a deeply sensitive person, you might have learned to harden yourself - not just outwardly, but inwardly too.

You might have learned to meet yourself with a toughness that echoes the voices that shamed you for your tenderness.

Toughen up.
Suck it up.
It’s not that bad.
What are you worried about.
Stop crying.

That hard inner voice has tried so hard to keep you safe; where safety comes from keeping those outer voices from getting too loud. The trouble is, the voices are still there; but now they’re yours.

What a highly sensitive human needs is tenderness, kindness, compassion; a soft place to land in a world that often feels like a bed of nails, with its ultra bright, super sharp, obnoxiously loud everything.

So I wonder … if a little inner softness today might be possible? a tenderness that your sensitivity longs for?

It can be as simple as a feeling you carry in your chest or a gentle word you whisper to yourself. Just a little reminder that your big feelings are real, welcome and needed in this world.

A few little things bringing me joy lately:

My gorgeous fiddle leaf fig, gifted by a beautiful friend when it was just a little propagated cutting. I especially love the way it’s found its way to the best light by bending to one side. Clever clever nature.

Rollerskating. I started weekly classes 3.5 years ago. I’m a nervous human on wheels but I can now skate backwards with a fair bit of confidence and do some fun moves. My skates are pink - JOY.

Baking. Mostly eating the baking but I like the process too. It reminds me to slow down and that’s a reminder I’m always here for.

Going bouldering with my 12 year old. It took me DAYS to recover (my shoulders and core were like ‘hello!’) but it was so so fun. I love a little challenge.

More baking. Because YUM.

Beautiful nature things. Grateful.

I think one of the most amazing gifts of being a sensitive soul is that we get to feel a depth of awe, wonder, gratitude and joy from things that are ultimately simple. I like to pause and really celebrate that (because it comes with the flip side too - the hard emotions have some wicked depth as well).

Anyway … I’ve been quiet on the socials and my brain is always a bit unsure where to begin with ‘coming back’. Coming back with some simple joys feels fitting.

Capacity: our ability to hold and do and process all the things. As highly sensitive people, our capacity can be less than we wish for 😵‍💫

I remember the day I declared that I could no longer cook dinner every night. I was crumbling, and it wasn’t fun. Dinner wasn’t *the* issue, but it was the final straw; the thing that felt like it drained me of something I didn’t have to give.

I was so ashamed, but I felt desperate.

I always prided myself on doing it all (even though I never could, I was just masterful at masking my struggles) and the fear of failure I held onto when it came to being a mum was huge. But dinner was breaking me in ways I couldn’t really fathom, so something had to give.

The conversation about capacity is a tricky one because the honesty it requires is deep. It’s also tricky because it flies in the face of literally everything the dominate narratives stand for: sacrifice, push, suffering, productivity, blood sweat and tears.

I’m no longer ashamed of not making dinner every night. I’m proud of myself for knowing my limits and putting myself ahead of my fears.

Want to explore this more? This week’s podcast is all about capacity and why we seem to run in repetitive cycles of burnout 😵‍💫 Episode 333 of SelfKind - a podcast for highly sensitive people - is out now.