Before I Knew I Was An Empath
About 40 years ago, I read a story in the Philadelphia Daily News that shook me to my core. A three-year-old girl had been locked in a bedroom and left there. Alone. For months.
When she was finally found, her small body was kneeling beside the bed in a praying position. I put the newspaper down and I cried. Not just that day. I cried for weeks.
I didn’t know her, or have any connection to her life, but I hurt over the slow, painful death she suffered. The one detail I could not shake was the image of her praying as she was dying. Her name was Sylvia and something in me couldn’t let her go. I carried her the way you carry someone you love. And I had absolutely no idea why.
My mom tried to understand what I was feeling, but she didn’t. Nobody understood it. I didn’t even understand it. I just cried and wondered, what is wrong with me?
Around that same time, a coworker lost his nineteen-year-old daughter to cancer. A small group of us went to the funeral to support him. We weren’t there to mourn her. We hadn’t known her. We were there for him.
And everything was fine until they walked her babies past the coffin. Her adorable little boy, dressed in a gray suit and tie, looked at his mother and said, “Mommy wake up.”
And I lost it. Completely. While her own family held themselves together with everything they had, I was undone in a way I couldn’t explain or control. People looked at me sideways. I looked at myself sideways. Here I was, a stranger, falling apart harder than the people who actually knew and loved her. Heck they were handing me tissues!
What I felt in that moment was hard to explain. It wasn’t her parents’ grief or the grief of her friends. I was prepared for that. But I wasn’t prepared for “Mommy wake up.” I felt that little boy’s loss before he even understood he had one. His mother was right there. She was already gone and he didn’t know it yet. And somehow, I felt all of it. The before and the after and the space in between where innocence lives just before it breaks.
I didn’t have a word for any of this then. Empath wasn’t part of my vocabulary. Highly sensitive person wasn’t either. All I had were the feelings, and the confusion, and the quiet belief that something was fundamentally wrong with me for caring so much about people I had never met.
It would take years before I understood the truth. Nothing was wrong with me. I was simply wired to feel what others carry. I walked into rooms and absorbed emotional energy the way a sponge takes in water. I didn’t choose it. It just happened, automatically, completely, and always at a great cost to my own peace.
I am an empath. And if you have ever cried for a stranger, grieved someone you never met, or walked into a room and taken on a weight that wasn’t yours to carry, there is a good chance you are too.
What I Know Now That I Wish I’d Known Then
The woman I am today would have handled both of those moments very differently. Because I know myself now in a way I didn’t then.
Today I know my limits. I know what I can take in and what will pull me under. I know that absorbing someone else’s pain doesn’t help them carry it. It only makes me suffer. And I know how to release what isn’t mine before it settles into my bones.
If I had seen that headline about Sylvia today, I would have stopped right there. I know myself well enough to know I am not built to take in that level of suffering without being consumed by it. I can acknowledge her. I can say her name. I can send love into that story without reading every detail and carrying it for weeks. That’s not indifference. That’s self-knowledge. There’s a difference.
And at that funeral, I would have grounded myself before walking through those doors. I would have set an intention: I am here for my coworker. I can be present and compassionate without absorbing everyone’s pain. When that little boy spoke those words, I still would have felt it. Deeply. But I would have known what was happening in my body, and I would have known how to come back to myself.
That’s the gift of the healing journey. Not that you stop feeling. You never stop feeling. The gift is that you learn to feel without drowning.
If you are that woman wondering what is wrong with you, keep reading. Everything you need is right here.
As Empaths, We Don’t Just Notice Other People’s Energy
We absorb and internalize it. Someone else’s anxiety will settle into your chest as if it were your own. You literally feel their anger, their grief, their pain, their fear in your own body.
And it’s not just individual emotions we absorb. Many of us also pick up on collective energy, which can be overwhelming, especially when the world feels heavy.
While this deep sensitivity connects us to others in profound ways, it can also leave us emotionally depleted, struggling with boundaries, and running on a nervous system that never quite gets to rest.
And if you’re also working through your own trauma, you know how complicated this gift can become.
What many people don’t realize is that trauma can actually increase empathic absorption. When your nervous system becomes hypervigilant to emotional threats as a result of trauma or grief, you may find yourself picking up on others’ emotions more intensely than ever before. What started as a protective mechanism can become a pattern of absorbing everything around you. It was your nervous system trying to keep you safe.
The Unique Challenges Empaths Face and Strategies That Actually Help
- Emotional Absorption
This isn’t empathy in the traditional sense. When someone near you is anxious, you become anxious. When they’re angry, your body responds with the same stress hormones. You don’t just understand their feelings. You embody them.
Learn to Distinguish Your Emotions From Others’
This is foundational work for empaths. When you notice a sudden shift in your emotional state, pause and ask yourself: did this feeling originate in me, or did I pick it up from someone else?
Before entering into interactions, take note of your baseline emotional state. Notice your mood, your energy level, and any physical sensations. After the interaction, check in again. If there’s a significant shift that doesn’t match anything in your own life, you’ve likely absorbed something.
When that happens, place both hands on your heart and say, either aloud or internally: “This emotion isn’t mine. I’m returning it with love.” Then imagine the feeling lifting away from your body. You’re not being cold. You’re releasing what was never yours to hold.
- Trauma Layering
Processing your own trauma is challenging enough. But as an empath, you’re also sorting through years of absorbed emotions from others. Your nervous system has been responding to threats that weren’t even yours, creating layers of reactivity that can make healing feel overwhelming and exhausting.
Work With Trauma in Small, Manageable Doses
Your trauma isn’t just stored in your thoughts. It lives in your body’s habitual responses to perceived emotional threats. The key is learning to work with traumatic memories and sensations without becoming overwhelmed by them.
One practice that helps is called pendulation. It means moving back and forth between an uncomfortable sensation and a neutral or pleasant one. When a traumatic memory surfaces, notice where you feel it in your body. Maybe it’s tightness in your chest or a knot in your stomach. Stay with that sensation for just a few seconds, then deliberately shift your attention to a part of your body that feels neutral or comfortable, perhaps your feet on the ground or your hands resting in your lap. Move back and forth between these sensations a few times. This teaches your nervous system that you can touch into difficult feelings and come back to safety. You’re building capacity without getting flooded.
Another approach is titration, which simply means processing in small doses. Instead of diving into the full memory, touch into it briefly, maybe 30 seconds, then deliberately ground yourself. Press your feet into the floor. Look around the room and name five things you see. Splash cold water on your face. Return to baseline. Then touch in again briefly if you feel ready. Think of it as dipping your toe in rather than jumping into the deep end. Over time, these small exposures allow you to process without retraumatizing yourself.
There is one more practice that is especially important for empaths. When you feel triggered, pause and ask: is this my memory, or did I absorb someone else’s pain that is activating my own wounds? Sometimes what feels like your trauma surfacing is actually borrowed grief or fear from someone else. Place your hand on your heart and say: “What’s mine stays. What I absorbed goes back.” Then imagine any absorbed emotions lifting away, leaving only what’s truly yours to process.
- Boundary Confusion
When emotions pass through you like water through a sieve, it becomes nearly impossible to know where you end and others begin. Many of us have spent years believing we were responsible for managing other people’s emotional states simply because we could feel them so intensely. That’s not a character flaw. It’s what happens when no one teaches an empath how to hold her own energy.
Create Energetic Boundaries Before Interactions
Your nervous system needs clear signals that you’re protected. Creating an intentional boundary before emotionally charged situations can make a real difference.
Before entering a difficult conversation or crowded space, take three slow deep breaths. Visualize a boundary around you. Some empaths imagine light. Others picture a glass wall or a force field. The specific image matters less than the intention behind it: I can be present and compassionate without taking on what isn’t mine.
Physical anchors help too. Consider wearing something specific, a particular necklace, scarf, or bracelet, only when you need extra protection. The physical reminder helps your nervous system hold the boundary you’ve set.
And please give yourself permission to curate your emotional environment. You don’t have to consume every tragic news story, maintain draining relationships, or be available to everyone’s emotional needs. Choosing what you allow into your space isn’t selfish. It’s essential for your healing.
- Nervous System Dysregulation
Empaths often live with chronically activated nervous systems. Your body has been responding to everyone else’s stress signals for so long that it may have genuinely forgotten what calm feels like. This isn’t anxiety you can think your way out of. It’s a physiological state that needs direct, body-based attention.
Regulate Your Nervous System Every Single Day
Daily regulation isn’t optional for empaths. It’s maintenance. Your nervous system has been processing multiple people’s stress responses, often for decades, and it needs consistent support to find its way back to balance.
Grounding is one of the simplest and most effective practices. Stand barefoot on the earth when you can or simply press your feet firmly into the floor and notice the sensation. This sends a signal of safety to your nervous system.
Bilateral stimulation helps process absorbed emotions. Try alternating tapping on your knees, crossing your arms and tapping your shoulders, or simply walking and paying attention to the left-right rhythm of your steps.
Vagal toning is another powerful tool. Humming, singing, gargling, or taking long slow exhales all activate the vagus nerve, which sends your body the message that it’s safe to relax.
And when you need to interrupt overwhelm quickly, cold exposure works. Splash cold water on your face or hold something cold in your hands. It resets your nervous system fast.
- The Exhaustion No One Sees
You can be completely drained from what looked like a pleasant conversation because you spent the entire time absorbing and processing someone else’s emotions. People don’t understand why you need so much recovery time because they can’t see the invisible labor you’ve been doing.
Here’s something important that many women don’t know: many empaths experience adrenal fatigue, also called HPA axis dysfunction, because their bodies have been releasing stress hormones in response to everyone else’s emotions for years. Your adrenal glands are exhausted from working overtime, constantly activating as if each absorbed emotion is your own personal threat to respond to. This is not weakness. This is your body telling you it needs rest and regulation in a very real, physiological way.
Schedule Non-Negotiable Recovery Time
Stop apologizing for needing time alone. Your nervous system requires periods of no external emotional input to recalibrate. This isn’t a preference. It’s a biological necessity.
Make your recovery time sacred. Block it on your calendar and treat it with the same respect you’d give a doctor’s appointment. This might be a quiet morning before anyone else is awake, an afternoon walk without your phone, or simply sitting in silence with a cup of tea. The form doesn’t matter as much as the consistency.
And give yourself full permission to disappoint people when you need to. You may need to leave events early, decline invitations, or limit time with certain people. This isn’t rude. It’s survival. Your wellbeing matters more than others’ comfort with your boundaries.
Additional Essential Practices
Recognize Your Physical Warning Signs
Your body signals overwhelm before your mind catches up, and learning to recognize your personal warning signs allows you to intervene before you’re completely depleted. Common signals include sudden unexplained exhaustion, tightness in the chest or throat, feeling spacey or disconnected, shallow breathing, tension in the shoulders or jaw, an urgent need to be alone, or unexplained crying.
When you notice any of these, name it out loud: I’m overwhelmed. Then do something physical immediately. Step outside. Splash water on your wrists. Take three big sighs. Press your back against a wall. These actions help your nervous system understand that you’re responding to the threat, and that it’s safe to stand down.
Work With a Professional Who Gets It
If you’re ready to go deeper, seek out a therapist, healer, or practitioner who understands empathic sensitivity and won’t pathologize it. Ask directly whether they have experience working with empaths or highly sensitive people, and look for someone trained in somatic, trauma-informed, or nervous system-based approaches. You deserve support from someone who sees your sensitivity as something to work with, not something to fix.
Connect With Other Empaths
There is profound relief in being understood by someone who doesn’t think you’re too sensitive or imagining things. Other empaths validate your experience because they live it too. You need people who won’t ask you to explain why a conversation left you exhausted. They just know.
I created Heart of Healing because I needed a community like this myself. A space where women over 50 who feel everything deeply can come together without explanation or apology. A place to share what’s working, to be witnessed in your struggles, and to remember you are not alone in this journey. If you’re looking for your people, I’d love to have you join us. Heart of Healing
A Word About Healing While Empathic
If you’re working through trauma while managing empathic sensitivity, please be patient and gentle with yourself. Your healing journey is more complex because you’re not just processing your own experiences. You’re untangling decades of absorbed emotions from others.
Some days your boundaries will be strong. Other days you’ll find yourself taking on your adult child’s anxiety or crying over a stranger’s pain. This doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human, you’re learning, and you’re doing the hard and holy work of figuring out what’s yours and what never was.
Healing for empaths often means learning that we don’t have to feel everything. We can choose. We can witness someone’s pain without absorbing it. We can care deeply without carrying what isn’t ours. This doesn’t make you less compassionate. It makes you sustainable.
Moving Forward
You didn’t choose to be an empath, but you can choose how you live with this sensitivity. The goal isn’t to stop feeling deeply. The goal is to develop the skills to feel without drowning.
Your nervous system has been on high alert, responding to everyone else’s emotional storms for a very long time. Now it’s time to teach it that you are safe, that you can feel your own feelings without carrying everyone else’s, and that protecting your energy is one of the most loving things you can do for yourself.
You’ve spent years being a safe harbor for others. Now you get to become a safe harbor for yourself.
What has helped you most on your healing journey? What practices have made a difference? Please share in the comments. We learn so much from each other’s wisdom.
Be Blessed, Taylor
