Deciding not to care
On having more fun and being less chalant as a (former) highly sensitive person
I am not a chill person. In fact, I am extremely chalant and the thought of ‘going with the flow’ makes me want to gag. I’ve always been very much zoomed into my internal workings; someone who ponders often, feels emotions deeply and is the human embodiment of a storm in a teacup. I’ve been prone to worrying about many a molehill, one of the most recent being what type of fans I should provide for the guests at my upcoming wedding because I’m concerned about the noise they’ll make when they’re opened — the joys of overthinking.
When I first discovered the term ‘highly sensitive person’ (HSP), I felt seen and understood in a way I hadn’t before. Never before had my experiences and feelings been articulated and validated so perfectly, and for a while, I devoured HSP content. I ate up the podcasts and literature for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I’d found a community of people who experienced the world in the same way I did, and after years of questioning why everyone around me seemed to be able to skate through life, it was comforting to know that I wasn’t alone in my depth of feeling.
For a while, identifying as a HSP was my safe haven from a lifetime of feeling like (and sometimes being told) I was too much, too emotional, too dramatic. I was empowered to go about my days caring deeply and pouring my heart into everything I did because I now had the rule book on how to survive in this world as a HSP.
Another thing you should know about me, though, is that I despise living in the grey areas; my all-or-nothing mentality means that I go through extreme phases with no in between. What started as understanding and embracing my nature turned into people-pleasing, anxiety and emotional outbursts, leaving me with barely enough energy and motivation to pour into myself and those closest to me.
By identifying as a HSP, I had confined myself to a box labelled ‘fragile’. I’d become convinced that if I didn’t express my deep emotions, I’d be abandoning my true self and become someone who was cold and unloving. In reality, I was holding myself captive to my own mind and emotions, letting them dictate how I should move through the world; labels are helpful until they aren’t. After a particularly inspiring therapy session, I experimented with changing the narrative I had told myself for so long.
Stripping myself of the HSP identity was a huge weight off my shoulders and one that I’d been bearing unnecessarily. I slowly began detaching from things that would have previously sent me into an inward spiral, and stopped attaching meaning to every thought and interaction that I had. I felt myself lighten with the cosmic shift that happened when I zoomed out and reminded myself that I can decide what I put my attention towards; that not everything deserves a country song. When it comes down to it, we’re just on a floating rock in space (the zoom out final boss, if I do say so myself).
You can learn about yourself — about your personality, your trauma and why you are the way that you are — and let it be incredibly valuable and validating, while also not letting it define you. For me, being cocooned in the comfort of my HSP label had been useful and a necessary part of my self growth, but it had gotten to the point where it was no longer serving me. There’s a thin line between embracing who you are and being limited by it. I didn’t want my introspection to stop me from living a full and enjoyable life and thus began my identity crisis awakening.
When I spiralled, I started to tell myself “I don’t care about this”, and with time, I began to believe it; I found that it can be true if I’m willing to make it true. I began to prioritise fun and spontaneity; to let go of the illusion of control I’d been clinging to so dearly. I once drove 30 minutes to the beach at 7 o’ clock in the evening and only stayed for about an hour — just because I felt like it. This may sound commonplace, but as someone who previously thought of going to the beach as a whole day ordeal which required her to pack the whole kitchen sink in her beach bag, this was a monumental paradigm shift for me.
Some other fun and ~spontaneous~ things I’ve done recently:
Hired a bike and rode around my local park (I can’t even remember the last time I’d ridden a bike before this)
Booked a last-minute staycation at a fancy hotel that I’d walked past many times in awe (I haven’t had a staycation in years)
Drove one hour just to go to a café with an amazing view (the café ended up being at capacity so I took in the view before finding and driving to a cosier one nearby instead — how spontaneous of me!)
Went to the rooftop of my apartment building to watch the sunset (in the 3 years I’ve lived here, I’ve been up there maybe twice)
*Perhaps you were expecting a wilder and more groundbreaking list of activities but hey, we all have to start somewhere!
More importantly, I’ve been learning to live in the nuance. Human beings are complex creatures — we’re allowed to be contradictory and we can change so much throughout the course of our lifetime. To my own surprise, I could let go of some of my emotions and control without being heartless and pushing away everyone I loved (balance exists??!!!?). By exerting less mental energy on catering to my emotions’ every last whim, I had freed up so much brain space to simply live my life and spend more time in the present — a mental decluttering, if you will.
To my initial dismay, I didn’t become a ‘chill girl’ overnight; every so often, I find myself going back to my old worrying patterns, but as my therapist puts it, these are just ‘wobbles’. As the saying goes, healing isn’t linear and we are just human after all. These wobbles have taught me that I can still care for others and myself without unravelling and forgetting the sweet parts of life. I still swim down to the depths of my emotional pool from time to time, but I know now when it’s not worth the dive.
From now on, I will be nonchalant and stop caring so much. My disclaimer is that I’m still someone who is highly sensitive (adjective now, not noun!), so what I consider nonchalance is likely still a decent level of chalance for most others. The difference is that I don’t box myself in unnecessarily; I still enjoy articles for HSPs, but now I read them through the lens that they’re a resource I can add to my toolbox, not a manifesto of who I am and exactly how to live my life.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop pouring my heart out and getting to know myself — I will never be a chill girl, but I’m no longer dismayed at this revelation. In fact, I’ve realised that I don’t want to be chill — caring deeply and being introspective are a core part of who I am. They are wonderful qualities to have, but I’m also not going to let them run my life and my thoughts. Instead, I will loosen my grasp without forgetting to check in on them every now and then — balance, baby.
Securely yours,
Jess xx
“I am not a chill person. In fact, I am extremely chalant” girl I feel seen like no other. I can’t tell you how many times I have said these exact words to my friends. But you are so right, it’s okay to not always be the “chill girl.” Some of us just feel things more deeply. At the same time, I love the reminder that it doesn’t have to consume us or turn into a label we carry around. It’s part of who sometimes is, not the definition. I’m looking forward to following along and would love to connect and support one another!
Couldn’t be more relatable! 😅🫣