"You feel too much"

"You take everything too personally"

"Why are you so emotional?"

"You cry too much."

"Why did you take that to heart? I didn't mean it."

"Why are you so sensitive!?"

If you were born with a sensitive heart, you have been hearing these lines (and an array of others) for as long as you can remember, and they usually start with something similar to, "This isn't meant to hurt you, but..." Let's be honest for a second: those statements that "aren't meant to hurt" us always do. They always cut to the core of our being, and the person who said it knew that it would (hence the "but..." that always follows). Why do those words hurt us so much? Because they are attacking our sensitivity. Which is a bigger part of who we are than what we, or others, might enjoy.

I have been a sensitive soul since the day that I was born. I was always worried about others. Words always cut me deeper than they should. And watching the news made my heart hurt so much that I now get my news from other sources (and in smaller doses) than the television. I couldn't help it — that's just how I was, but I grew up in a family and friend groups where my sensitivity was often misunderstood and even shamed at times. I used to hate that I was so sensitive. I stopped crying unless I was behind closed doors. I started to pretend that things didn't bother me when they actually did. I let myself become desensitized to many things, and I started to move from the fine line of realism to cynicism. But no matter what mask I put on, my sensitivity didn't go away. I continued to hurt — for myself, for family, friends and even strangers. In fact, my empathy was so strong that I could feel what other people were feeling. I was drowning in an ocean of pretending to be someone that I wasn't.

I don't remember exactly when or how it happened, but I started to come to peace with my sensitivity. And I learned how to use my sensitivity for the benefit of myself and others.

I became a sensitivity badass.

I started to find the beauty in my sensitivity. I had no need try and be "tough" or "strong" the way that the world defined the words. In my public high school, fighting with sensitivity looked like standing up for the people the bullies targeted, being kind and friendly with our special needs students, breaking apart physical fights when faculty and staff wasn't in the vicinity (and telling the next faculty or staff I saw), it meant walking past about 50 people talking about you for speaking the truth (about students throwing milk all over another student), it meant treating teachers and secretaries like actual human beings, it meant being labeled as a teacher's pet and it meant not being invited to hang out with the "cool kids." But it also meant extending love to the broken and hurting, it meant sitting with someone at lunch who was being targeted by the catty comments, it was listening to people cry because people are just so mean. It was not questioning if a rumor was true or not but loving them anyway, it meant not putting prerequisites on someone's worth, it meant having a kind soul in the hatred of the other people, it meant having a few close friends that supported me, it meant avoiding most of the petty drama and it meant making other people feel like they were appreciated and worth something.

When you start to reframe your sensitivity for what it is and not what the world says it is, you learn to see it's beauty. It is not a burden. It is not an inconvenience. It is not weakness. Here's what it is: it is feeling deeply which allows you to feel empathy. It does keep your heart soft in a cold and hard world. It keeps you in tune with how others feel. It is fierce because feeling so deeply is not easy. It is fearless because being fully yourself is vulnerable and scary. It's beautiful to be so kind and caring and loving in this world; there's beauty in seeing the horrors around us and still feeling the ping of sadness or angry or empathy when so many people are desensitized to the hurting. It is pure badassery — and yes, it's a real word. Oxford dictionaries online defines "badassery" as follows: "Noun. Behavior, characteristics, or actions regarded as formidably impressive." Did you catch that? Formidably impressive. I am telling you that your sensitivity is formidably impressive; that is gains respect.

So the next time that someone starts a sentence with, "This isn't meant to hurt you, but..." you feel that little sting and remember that your sensitivity is a good thing. It makes you who you are. So you feel deeply. You cry those tears if you have to. But don't you dare feel shame about your sensitivity. You are fierce and fearless, a badass. You are beautiful and incredible.