When I Finally Understood Why I Feel Everything
I recently discovered the term HSP. Highly Sensitive Person.
After some deep research, I realized every description lined up perfectly with how I’ve felt for as long as I can remember. I’m not trying to self-diagnose, but the more I read, the more the pieces started to make sense.
For years I lived by what people saw on the outside. Playing in bands. Weekends in bars. Loud crowds. A constant search for approval, attention, identity. Music gave me the spotlight. Alcohol numbed what I didn’t know how to handle. I wasn’t addicted to the drink. I was addicted to not feeling. Every time it wore off, I’d drink again just to escape myself.
Looking back now, it all adds up.
What It Means To Be HSP
Being a Highly Sensitive Person means:
Emotions land deeper
You absorb the energy and mood of people around you without a word being said
Your mind replays conversations, processing every detail
Crowds, noise, and fast-paced environments drain your energy
Alone time is necessary, not optional
Peace and nature feel like true rest
You don’t move fast. You move deep
It’s not a weakness. It’s wiring. About one in five people are highly sensitive, but most go their whole life trying to toughen up instead of learning how to live with that depth.
The Mountains. The Moment Everything Shifted.
In 2016, I traveled to the mountains of Colorado for the first time. Dolores. The San Juan range. Ouray. Ridgeway. Silverton. Telluride.
I didn’t fully understand it then, but something inside me began to change. The shift was quiet and slow. I just knew the mountains made me feel a peace I had never known.
I kept going back.
It took until 2020 before I finally stopped resisting and started allowing the process to happen. That was the turning point. The moment I accepted that nature wasn’t just an escape. It was home.
The mountains didn’t ask me to perform. They didn’t offer attention. They didn’t call for a version of me. They gave me stillness. They gave me truth. They reminded me that nothing real has to be loud.
And once that quiet took root, everything that had defined me before began to fall away. The stage. The crowds. The weekends. The need for approval. The identity tied to noise.
It didn’t leave because I forced it. It just no longer belonged.
Living Life at Full Volume
Being HSP means I feel the world fully. Loudly. That used to overwhelm me. Now I understand it’s the reason I see life the way I do.
Silence recharges me. Nature speaks louder than applause. Peace is more valuable than performance. Depth is better than attention.
I used to escape the weight of feeling through noise. Now I honor it through quiet.
**I didn’t become a mountain person.
The mountains simply introduced me to the person I really am.**
If someone reading this feels too much, cares too deeply, or never understood why they’re exhausted by the noise, maybe this helps.
Maybe you’re not too much.
Maybe you’re just highly sensitive.
Maybe you’re finally ready to listen to the quiet.
