Growing up I always knew I was a sensitive person. It wasn’t something I was proud of, in fact, for a boy to be seen as sensitive it can be pretty negative. It’s not ‘manly’ to have feelings, or get hurt by ‘small things’ or to be compassionate to others. Add this to realising your gay and it can create a whole heap of negative shit.

And what’s the best thing to numb sensitivity? Yes, alcohol. When I drank it didn’t make me into Katie Twatting Hopkins but it would definitely help me say stuff to people that I didn’t mean and of course at the time not really give a shit (the alcohol also made my breath smell like raccoon shit but that subject deserves it’s own post). 

But then….overnight the clown juice would wear off and I’d sit bolt upright (like Dracula arising from his coffin) in bed and feel terrible. I would be anxious and worried that I’d upset someone and it would ruin the next day for me. Lordy I would be in such a state I’d worry that I’d offended anyone I was with including the bloody ashtray. 

Drinking poison not only made me insensitive to others but it also dimmed the lights on my own sensitivity chandelier. And that’s where the pleasure of being drunk came from. I felt stronger more confident and invincible to anything anyone said or thought about me. But that only lasted whilst I was swaying along to a song that wasn’t on. 

Sensitivity is a spectrum that we’re all on. 

It’s the way we’re born and it is a quality that should be celebrated.

Here’s my top 3 reasons why I am celebrating being sensitive today –  


I have a high level of empathy. Being sensitive to others feelings and emotions makes me a good friend and a better human. I really care about the people and animals I love and come into contact with (yes this can be shitting exhausting but I wouldn’t change it for the world).


I appreciate the small things in life. From walking my dog in the park at sunrise (whilst dodging all the dog shit) to a hug to a text or phonecall from someone I love (of course not forgetting cake….I REALLY appreciate cake). 


I have an amazing gut feeling (a gut that’s really enjoying cake yeah). This also plays into being a good judge of character. I have instant feelings about people and I’m rarely wrong ( except with Hans from Frozen. I did not see that bastard coming).

So yes I’m a sensitive strudel and I couldn’t be happier about it. 

Thankfully I realised that alcohol was slowly but surely not only killing me but also my spirit.  

I feel stuff and thank Liza for that. 

Numb Norman can piss off as Sensitive Shirley is here to stay.

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