Navigating the Chaos of Family Gatherings

Enter the battleground of the highly sensitive.

"Fun," they said.

"That sounds lovely, we’ll bring dessert," my sister-in-law chimes in.

But oh boy, don't be fooled by the cheery texts in our family group; I see through it all, and my anxiety starts gearing up, knowing the familiar rollercoaster that awaits us.

Another episode of overstimulation, confusion, and the wild ride of a family gathering.

As a highly sensitive person, I've always struggled with collectives of humans. In fact, any more than 2 people at a time generally feels like too many people in one space. So, adding family complexities and triggers into the mix and, naturally, it’s a hot mess.

You see, for an HSP like me, for every person in the room, the energy compounds - the voices, the micro-aggressions, the facial expressions, the body language, and the unsaid become a deafening ring in my ears.

I cannot ignore the repeating patterns, the unprocessed resentment, the grief, the wrestling of boundaries and power dynamics swirling around me. I feel the tension build layer over layer, and my chest feels tighter and tighter, the air becoming hard to swallow.

Fast forward to today - the battlefield known as family lunch.

My brother's three children compete for attention, creating a symphony of screams and cries. Meanwhile, Sting's "Desert Rose" plays on loop, creating a soundtrack that refuses to end. The orchestrated chaos is punctuated by the sharp banging of pots and pans.

And then, the small talk.

“How’s work?”

The same script we've been following for centuries, as if deviating would summon an apocalypse. Because, god forbid, we delve into the mess that is our real lives!

Then, after a rushed and frenzied lunch, it all comes to a very abrupt end after an inevitable disagreement, and my hangover-laden, sleep-deprived brother and sister-in-law bolt out the door, kids in tow.

And there I am. Nervous system in tatters, shocked by the last three hours. Left to tackle the aftermath - the dishes and plates, amidst the awkward silence with the remaining family.

Speechless, I retreat. My partner attempts to offer comfort, but I swat away his attempts, unable to handle more sensory input.

In the aftermath of another chaotic family gathering, I feel like a seasoned survivor of an HSP’s battleground. As I leave the house, a whirlwind of emotions and overstimulation swirling around me, I head for the beach, my safe place, in search of peace again. The sand beneath my feet becomes a grounding force, and the ocean breeze offers a comforting embrace. It's in these moments of quiet reflection that I realize the true art of self-preservation for a highly sensitive soul.

Perhaps one day, my family will learn to navigate the delicate dance of togetherness without leaving a trail of collateral damage. But, perhaps they won't, and that’s something I will need to accept. But in the meantime, I'll be recharging my batteries with solitude, sand, and sea until we try again.

How do you survive family gatherings as a Highly Sensitive Person?