By Emre Yigit Koc
Dedicated to the woman who taught me to value sensitivity.
I have seldom felt pride in my sensitivity, especially in a culture that values indifference. In a dating world that promotes shallow, hasty connections and industries that prioritise productivity, apathy is placed above empathy. For a long time I saw my sensitivity as a fault, some sort of weakness I was condemned for. In a society that praises those who seem unaffected by emotion, being sensitive made me feel flawed. I was taught to shy away from my sensitivity. This fostered a sense of doubt in my character.
That was until a conversation with my mother this past summer, which sparked my thoughts to write this letter. I put it quite simply: “Why am I so sensitive?” to which she answered, “Because you are the son of two very sensitive people.”
I had always seen my mother as an enduring woman, so hearing that she shared a quality of mine I regarded as a weakness disturbed me. I saw her in all her vulnerability. Not as a resolved figure, but rather as someone who struggled with a similar shame. If those I admired shared my sensitivity, perhaps there was value in it.
I’ve come to find that in relationships, sensitivity leads to a profound sense of empathy. It allows for a more intricate understanding of others. My fondest memories are those in which I’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable. While others may take your sensitivity for granted, it is this vulnerability that fosters authenticity to build relationships that last.
Sensitivity continues to prove valuable in professional settings. It fosters empathy for diverse perspectives, and understanding factors that influence other people’s decisions. Beyond minimising conflict, sensitivity promotes the generation of better ideas, and improves performance and trust for effective collaboration.
Looking back on my mother’s hesitance to articulate the importance of sensitivity, it becomes clear that its value isn’t always understood. While it may be difficult to celebrate, sensitivity is never shameful. It should be embraced as a source of connection and understanding. Though overwhelming at times, it nurtures awareness in relationships for more fulfilling connections. For that, I no longer feel condemned; rather, I feel lucky.
Illustrated by Sylvain Chan
