The first time I was attacked by a movie was in late 2006. We’d gone to see The Departed, and less than halfway through the show I had to leave the theater. I felt as though I was being physically assaulted by all of the violence on the screen (this is not an exaggeration) and found it impossible to watch the rest of the movie. Thankfully, my husband was unbothered by this and was content to watch the rest of the movie by himself. I went shopping to kill time and picked him up when it was over.

The next time it happened was in late 2008. This time we were watching The Dark Knight. Despite a deep loathing for superhero movies, I loved Batman Begins (especially the score) and was excited to see the next installment. About halfway through, I again felt like I was being assaulted by the movie and had to leave the theater. This time instead of going shopping, I went back in after 10 minutes and watched the rest of the movie standing near the exit, plugging my ears/closing my eyes during the very loud and violent parts. This struck me as incredibly odd, and I didn’t understand how so many people could love the very same movies that left me feeling beaten. I shrugged it off by deciding to be very selective in what movies I would go see from there on out (which was rather easy, as we usually only see two-to-three movies per year in the theater to begin with),  not realizing that this was actually a characteristic of a innate trait that has a significant role in shaping who I am.

In early 2012, Susan Cain’s book Quiet was released. As someone who’s long known to be an introvert, I devoured it as soon as it came out. It was packed full of research and provided me a better understanding of my own quietness. Living and working in a society that celebrates extroversion often left me feeling like I needed to be someone else…someone who talks more, who calls more attention to herself. Even the way I led my team was different (I was a dean at a community college at the time), as I relished lifting up others and highlighting their successes but had extreme difficulty in calling attention to my own work.

Within the book, Cain briefly touched on something called “high sensitivity“, a trait separate from introversion, but one that is more often present in introverts (about 70% of “highly sensitive people” or HSPs are introverts). The term itself is misleading, as most people read it to mean that a HSP is someone who’s feelings are easily hurt. In reality, its scientific term is Sensory Processing Sensitivity (SPS), and is used to describe someone who has a sensitive nervous system, is aware of subtleties in his/her surroundings, and is more easily overwhelmed when in a highly stimulating environment. Dr. Elaine Aron is a researcher who’s work has focused on high-sensitivity since 1991, and through that work she developed a number of characteristics that are common in HSPs, one of which is an aversion to loud or violent movies/TV shows. The more I dug into her research, the more I realized that many of the things I thought of as “weird” about myself tracked back to SPS:

• I need to check out on busy days. When I was dean, it was common for me to have six or seven meetings per day. While most people would be fatigued by all of the meetings, I found that my brain was completely non-functioning at the end of those days. Many times I’d get back to my office and just stare at my inbox full of email, completely unable to do anything about it. It usually took time to myself, either in my office or at home, before I would regain the ability to concentrate. If I had a few days like that in a row, it might take me an entire weekend to get back to full capacity.
• I am easily overwhelmed by bright lights, loud noises, strong smells and irritating fabrics. Last week we attended two concerts. On the second night, the couple in front of us smoked weed for most of the 2-1/2 hour show and I became so distracted by the smoke and the smell that I was unable to focus on the concert for the last hour (which is saying a lot considering how loud a Foo Fighters concert is). Not only did it physically aggravate my asthma, but the strong smell was a huge distraction in-and-of itself. Ignoring it was impossible, no matter how hard I tried.
• I pay close attention to delicate/fine tastes and sounds. Whether it’s the buttery flakiness of my mom’s pie crust, the crispy outside/smooshy inside of the perfect french fry, or the harmoniously blended flavors of day-old chili, eating for me is a sensory experience. And when at a concert or listening to music, I can practically feel it when an instrument is out of tune, or when a musician gets off beat. But concerts are the one place where loud noises are usually a good experience. They are never a surprise (the noises) and I typically only go to concerts of bands I love, meaning that I generally know what to expect.
• I have a rich and complex inner life. I’ve been known to bump into walls and the kitchen island in my own house because I’m deep in thought and not paying attention.

So I’m a HSP. A HSP who is very grateful to be 42 and not a young person in today’s world. The school environment we’ve created over the last decade or two is overwhelmingly to the favor of extroverted students. I think back to when I was in grade school, and I’m incredibly grateful to have been in a time where we still sat in rows and most of our work was done individually. I see images of classrooms set-up in pods and I cringe for the seven-year-old I once was, and for all of the quiet, HSP kids today who are no different from me. Most of my projects in high school were individual assignments and most classes taught in a traditional lecture style, a style in which this quiet, easily overwhelmed student thrived. I don’t envy the work of teachers, who are managing class sizes that are too large, and having to meet the needs of kiddos who are increasingly challenged by mental health issues and uncertain circumstances at home. Kids with diverse needs and even more diverse personalities. But I do hope the pendulum will eventually swing back towards the middle, and I think we’re seeing it somewhat, as I’ve also recently seen images of classrooms where kiddos can choose where they sit, whether it’s in a pod with their friends or at a seat by themselves.

Today’s office environment isn’t much better, with many companies taking down walls and creating wide-open spaces full of cubicles, despite research showing that productivity increases when people have their own space, and not only for introverts. Everybody experiences distractions (noise from their neighbors, people constantly walking by) that are detrimental to their work when people are crammed in without efforts to maintain a modicum of privacy.

While none of this might resonate with you, it might remind you of someone in your life…your spouse, your kid, a good friend. Many of us HSPs have a hard time articulating what we’re thinking, what we need. The best advice I have is to encourage you to give them space when they need it. Even if they can’t tell you they need space. If they’re overwhelmed, they need space. When we lived in Fort Collins, my job was incredibly stressful. Many evenings I’d come home from work completely overwhelmed by the events of the day. My husband is home only every-other-week, so on the weeks where he was working, I’d have all of the space I needed to recharge for the next day. But on the weeks he was home, it wasn’t uncommon for him to wait an hour, hour-and-a-half for me to “surface” after getting home from work. Fortunately, we’ve been married quite a long time and he’s intuitively figured out how to co-exist with his HSP/introverted wife. He’d just watch TV or mess around on his computer until I was ready to engage with humans. If you want to talk to your HSP or quiet spouse/friend/kid about their experiences, be sure to wait until they’re not in an overwhelmed place to start the dialogue. If you have a quiet and/or HSP kid, Susan Cain has an entire section of her website devoted to these kids, including a podcast.

If you are a HSP or think you might be, Dr. Aron’s website (linked above) has a wealth of information-including a self-test, as do her books. According to Aron, many HSPs gain a “great deal” by learning more about it, and I certainly fall into that category. Not only am I better at picking movies for myself-I did have to walk out of Wonder Woman for a bit, but I anticipated it this time and better understood why I needed the break, but I consciously carve out down time when I know I’m over-scheduled. I no longer apologize for “hermiting” as I call it, now that I understand it’s what I need to recharge my batteries. I anticipate that my brain will shut down when I’m in an overwhelming situation (such as meeting a large group of new people all at once, like when I was at WILDER), which doesn’t make it any easier, but at least it’s not a surprise when it happens. This knowledge has also helped me better understand how to use these traits to my advantage. I became a better leader and a better colleague with the increased understanding of myself. I felt grounded in my instinct to only speak up in meetings when I had something to contribute, to block out my schedule if needed, to compose an email if a message needed to be crafted carefully. I’m a better friend and spouse, because I can communicate to others about these seemingly weird quirks that can be difficult to understand for the more extroverted/non-HSPs among us. Being an introverted HSP in a loud, extroverted world will always be a bit of work, but knowing how to navigate the land mines is an invaluable, sanity-saving skill.

Solitude matters, and for some people, it’s the air they breathe. ~ Susan Cain