Being a Sensitive Person: From Childhood to Understanding My Neurodiversity — and How Reiki Has Supported Me
I’ve been a sensitive person for as long as I can remember - forever actually.
As a child, I felt everything deeply — noise, emotion, atmosphere, other people’s moods. I noticed details others seemed to miss and was easily overwhelmed by busy spaces, conflict, or change. For a long time, this sensitivity was framed as something I needed to manage, toughen up from, or outgrow.
I learned early how to hide it.
It wasn’t until much later that I began to understand my sensitivity not as a flaw, but as part of my neurodivergent way of experiencing the world.
Sensitivity
Sensitivity shows up in many ways. It can be emotional, sensory, energetic, or intuitive — and often a combination of all of these. For some people, sensitivity is closely connected to neurodiversity: differences in how we process information, stimuli, and connection.
For years, I tried to fit myself into environments that weren’t designed for my nervous system. I pushed through overwhelm, dismissed my needs, and learned to appear “fine” even when my body was signalling otherwise.
Recognising my neurodiversity helped me reframe my sensitivity. It wasn’t that I wasn't enough — it was that I needed different kinds of care.
What Being Sensitive Has Taught Me
Living as a sensitive person has taught me how important safety and regulation are. When the world feels loud or demanding, the nervous system needs spaces where it can soften.
Sensitivity brings challenges, but it also brings depth, empathy, creativity, and attunement. The problem isn’t sensitivity itself — it’s being expected to function as though we aren’t sensitive at all.
How Reiki Supported Me
Reiki entered my life during a time when my sensitivity felt overwhelming rather than meaningful. What drew me to it was its gentleness.
From my personal experience, Reiki supported me in ways I hadn’t found elsewhere:
It gave my nervous system a break - Reiki offered deep rest without requiring me to talk, explain, or perform. For a sensitive and neurodivergent system, that alone was profoundly regulating.
It validated non-verbal experience - As a child — and even as an adult — I often felt things I couldn’t put into words. Reiki allowed those experiences to exist without needing translation.
It helped me trust my sensitivity - Rather than trying to dull or override my sensitivity, Reiki helped me listen to it. Over time, this built trust in my body and intuition.
It supported me in unmasking - Reiki sessions became spaces where I didn’t have to manage myself for others. That safety allowed me to show up more honestly — both in sessions and in life.
A Spiritual Perspective on Sensitivity
Spiritually, I now see sensitivity as attunement — a way of being deeply in relationship with the world. Reiki honours this by working with subtle energy rather than forcing change.
Reiki doesn’t ask sensitive people to become less sensitive. It offers support so that sensitivity can be lived with more ease and less overwhelm.
How This Shapes My Reiki Practice
Because of my lived experience, my Reiki practice is intentionally inclusive and neurodiversity-affirming. Sessions are low-demand, consent-based, and adaptable. Silence is welcome. Stimming, movement, and rest are welcome. You do not need to “relax properly” or respond in any particular way.
Reiki, as I offer it, is for sensitive people — and for anyone who has ever felt like the world can be too much sometimes.
If you were a sensitive child who grew into an adult still learning how to care for your nervous system, you’re not alone. Sensitivity is not something you need to fix. It’s something that deserves understanding and support.
Reiki has helped me move from surviving my sensitivity to honouring it. If Reiki becomes part of your journey, I hope it offers you the same sense of permission: to rest, to soften, and to be exactly who you are.
With love and blessings
Esther
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