I have spent several months walking through my past with my inner rebel runner. It hasn’t been easy. We have felt so much futility, grief, shame and fear. And countless memories have been shared. All of these memories are different in their own way, but they have one very important message in common. People suck. Every memory has involved someone telling me how something is wrong with me, something is wrong with my plans and dreams, something is wrong with how I express myself and basically how I am just wrong. My inner rebel runner believes that people are not worth my time because all they do is tell me what I need to change to meet their standards.
On a cognitive level, I get what’s happening here. I was attracting people with serious self-esteem issues. They were projecting their need to perfect themselves on to me. They wanted to change me the way they wanted to change themselves. I know that I attract a different type of person in to my space now. There are so many amazing people around me. But my inner rebel is not convinced it is safe to connect on a deep level and I understand her hesitation. I get it. And we will change at her pace.
But my most recent revelation was a particular phrase that hit me hard. “You are too intense.” It was something I heard mainly in intimate relationships, but sometimes in working relationships and friendships. It was always men who said it. I feel anger about it for a couple of reasons. First, of course I was intense! After all that I had been through, I was trying to survive every single day. The world was a very scary place. Survival requires intensity. Second, it brings up the societal issues of how women are expected to portray themselves. Men get to be intense. Women need to be happy, smiley people who know how to have a good time. “You are prettier when you smile” is a phrase most women have heard.
When I move past the anger, I do have to acknowledge the truth of my intensity. I am intense. I approach life in an intense way. As a child, there was no time for play or fun. There was only hyper vigilance and waiting for what bad thing would happen next. On some level, my intensity was learned and it was a survival strategy I needed desperately. But on another level, I know I was born with a propensity to be intense. Trauma doesn’t do this to everyone. I know that. My intensity comes from a very intense controller who I enmeshed with very early in my life. And my controller is me. My controller took their traits from my true self and “traumafied” them.
So based on that understanding, my intensity must come from a strength. All inner parts hold traits that are grounded in strength. So when I look at intensity, it is easy (and my responsibility) to see the good in it. It shows up best in my work. I am constantly asked why I do this coaching. People don’t get how someone could talk about trauma all day long. “How can you immerse yourself in it the way you do?” But I embrace the intensity of this work. Not everyone can hold the space for intense emotions and experiences multiple times per day, but I thrive on it. And this work is desperately needed. There are enough people out there who run away from intensity. We don’t need more of those.
But if there is one thing I have learned in this recovery work, it is that balance is key. I can be intense. And I can be proud of it. I can perform like a pro in any crisis you throw at me (after an initial battle with futility). An E.R. visit? I got it. A broken air conditioner? No problem. A last minute flight cancellation? I will figure that out. But if you ask me to play a game of Frisbee with my kids, I will stand there like a deer in headlights wondering what to do. I know how to be intense in my work. I know how to be intense in my rest. But I never learned to play … not really. There was no time for that. I am working to find that balance that allows me to be intensely passionate about making life happen, but also intensely passionate about the present moment. I want to balance the intense doing with the intense being. Not every moment has a goal and I want to understand that on a deep level.
I see it in my son. He has the same intensity that I have. He reads with intensity (accents included). He works with intensity (when he has to). He plays with intensity. He performs with intensity. He even dances in the grocery store with intensity (and to a chorus from his sister about how embarrassing he is). He is intense about life. And I notice that some people can’t handle him. People will tell him to calm down and be quiet. They will tell him to be less intense, less passionate, less of a clown. I know I’ve said it on my bad days. And I sure hope he doesn’t let it affect him too much. I hope he finds a way to let his intensity shine in this world. We need it. We need the passion and power that comes with intensity. There is truly nothing wrong with being intense.
I love where you say “not every moment needs to have a goal”. I struggle with this one and am often told to be ‘less intense’. That I’m too much 😞 I’m beginning to understand this after 50 years so I guess its progress! The joy of just being is something I have experienced but struggle to embrace.
It is quite a tough one to learn. There is no doubt about it.
SO true!
I can identify with your intensity. People always have something negative to say and it really does suck. Their lives are no shining example, why would they think they can tell us what to do in our lives. I consider them very unqualified. Something I’ve also heard in my life is “you laugh too loud.” Even now I struggle to laugh as I am feeling it and not cover my own mouth with my hand to keep it in. I did that the other night because my grandson was asleep close to me on the couch and that situation is different than when I was laughing at something on TV at my parents house and I was laughing way too loud (and these people are partially deaf!) I don’t think laughter ever needs to be restrained because it is an explosion of joy in the moment. I wish other people could understand that and not be so critical. But yes, people often really, really suck.
Thank you Teresa. That is a great point about laughter.
Thanks Elisabeth,
I too am intense, ex partners have found it difficult to handle my intensity and have made me feel bad about being this way,
I too have found it difficult to handle my intensity and have made myself feel bad about feeling this way !!!!!!!!!!!
I like it when you say, how these parts are born from truth and how there is a power within this intense state.
Thanks,
yvette xxxxxxxxxxxx
Thank you Yvette. Yes! There is so much power in our intensity. And that is a positive thing too.
Thank you for sharing this, Elizabeth. I have definitely heard this from colleagues and former partners alike, yet always wondered why my state of being was the exception and not the norm. Why aren’t people as passionate as I am about things, I always responded when told I was ‘passionate’ – code for intense!
I’ve recently accepted the fact that I am a highly sensitive person and realize that I approach sensitivity with an intensity that counterbalances the hurt I feel about things. Your insights are really helpful in showing me the anger in these feelings. Thank you.
So! sorry for misspelling your name!
This is brilliant awareness Monique. I do think our intensity is often a protection from our pain and hurt. Thank you so much for your comment.
Thank you for sharing this. It’s great to know I’m not alone with it.
I am so glad it helped!
Thank you for so clearly defining what my family saw as my ” problem”. I was always too much. Too happy. Too active. Too emotion. blahblahblah. They made me ashamed of my core self. When they are the dysfunctional ones. It was never me and it took me til age 58 to finally see it. They were jealous of my talents and accomplishments. It never changed me but hurt my self concept.
Thank you K. I am so glad you see the truth now!
“Children are to be seen and not to be heard!” a very common and destructive comment that has been repeated too often including beatings throughout childhood. Hence I’ve had problems speaking up for myself and defending myself; I became a people pleaser, co-dependent and abused wife. It has taken me 60 some years to understand this and now the real work begins; “Who am I? What am I doing here? What do I want?” Sometimes when I drive on the Queensway with the windows up I scream at the top of my lungs and it feels good!! I want to feel whole and worthy and I thank you for your insights. They help.
Thank you Linda. I am so glad you are asking those questions. And I agree with the screaming. I have done it many, many, many times. It is often a part of getting our voice back.
Thank you Elisabeth for creating a safe container for us to explore our feelings and emotions. The word “intense” seems to carry negative connotations in our society. The definition itself is not a negative one – very great in degree; very strong; done with great energy, enthusiasm.
So why do we feel we should not be “intense” if that means we are showing great enthusiasm? why not? If others deem our reaction as too intense then perhaps that is an indication that they are “too numb” and if that is the case, then why feel bad about that?
Isn’t it better to have feelings than none at all?
Isn’t life about feeling/experiencing all that life has to offer? If we feel joy and happiness – don’t we wish to experience it “intensely” since many/most of us have already experienced the intensity of grief, sadness and the like. I say YES!!!! give me as much joy and happiness in all its intensity and if someone has an issue with me feeling that – that’s their issue and I feel compassion for their small capacity to feel.
So let’s all be intense together :)!
I love it Wendy!!
Dear Elisabeth,
I am desperate about not knowing how to play. Recovery is going forward every day but it also exhausts me. My daughter feels very alone with me at times. My husband has aspergers and bad memories, too. Thank you for writing about this. I guess it’s progress to accept my unable-to-play mind in the first place without wanting to solve it right away..
It is the only way forward actually. We must start by accepting these things about us. They exist for a reason and they are valid. Only then will we have the space to listen to ourselves and heal. Love to you Lynn.
Stephen Porges informs us that it’s unreasonable to expect to be in ‘play’ mode when your brain is operating primarily in FIGHT or FLIGHT. I have wrestled with this issue over the past few years. Internal Family Systems is an excellent treatment intervention, but it has its limits as all treatment modalities do. It can help you integrate parts, but it doesn’t adequately calm down your nervous system, in my personal experience. Neurofeedback has helped me calm my ‘fear driven’ brain so that I am no longer triggered or in a state of hypervigilence. Art therapy and drum healing has also helped me get into ‘play mode’ and out of my head. Many survivors need a specialized therapist to facilitate that process. I would suggest that survivors who feel challenged to play, look to their communities for these kinds of workshops and classes. It’s fun when you learn to get out of your head and feel free to express yourself. Your child ‘parts’ need time to feel free to play.
Elisabeth offers great advice and support here. We need to be able to identify parts and be able to work with them in a way that helps us support our goals in life. And, trauma survivors often require more than one treatment intervention to fully recover from complex PTSD.
I have been labelled ‘intense’ and ‘obsessed’ and various times during my life. I have chosen to reframe these labels. I get to chose how I am defined. Others don’t choose for me. I am enthusiastic. I am passionate. I am committed. A male therapist recently said to me, “you’re bubbly” to which I replied, “Yes. Like an effervescent bottle of champagne”. His comment made me feel uncomfortable as it felt sexualized and signalled to me that he wasn’t someone I was choosing to work with. Again, I get to choose who I work and play with. Not everyone is going to appreciate or value your intensity. Not everyone is going to appreciate you or want to be your friend or colleague or lover. That’s how life is. I keep my head up and keep walking. I was not meant for everyone and everyone is not meant for me. Radical acceptance is a useful concept in this regard. Being born a ‘Spirited Child’ is not easy and being traumatized as a child is a Double Whammy in an energetic sense.
Don’t let your fears of what has happened in the past overshadow what could be opportunities in the future. I find David Richo’s book, “How to Be an Adult in a Relationship” helpful. We, as trauma survivors, were never offered a healthy template for navigating love and relationships. We often need healthy therapists to facilitate the process and do the repartive work that enables our brain to rewire and tap in a healthy ‘mother’ and ‘father’ figure to replace the unhealthy ones. Otherwise, we may continue struggling to form healthy relationships despite our best intentions and efforts we make on an individual basis. Trauma survivors can be highly independent and resourceful individuals. And, I do not believe that a survivor can fully integrate on their own or with the help of only one healer. That’s a form of ‘magical thinking’ that our defender types play so that they can continue to feel in control, so they can ward off attack of the younger more vulnerable ones. In actuality, becoming a more ‘flexible’ and ‘open’ person makes you stronger not weaker when this is coupled with a sense of discernment and healthy boundaries. This only can be recognized when you know that you always have a choice if whom you choose to interact and engage with in the world. You always have the power to say NO. If you have complex trauma, it takes a village of healers whether it be a yoga instructor or a art teacher or a shaman – the key here is the person needs to be ‘healthy’ with ‘healthy boundaries’ – someone who has done their own work. Healing from complex trauma does not fully happen from our living rooms or bedrooms or from behind a computer screen. We need to be ‘brave ones’, sometimes, and take the risk to connect with someone in the real world, if only in a coffee shop or a yoga class. It does not happen overnight. It’s baby steps. Baby, baby, baby steps. We learn to “put one foot in front of the other … ” as they say in Rudolph the Rednosed Raindeer. We persist. We don’t give up. That’s why we are survivors.
Thanks again, Elisabeth, for all the healing you bring to the world. You are a source of light and a dear friend to many of us. I will remember our connection on Twitter fondly. Take care. <3
Thank you for your comment Jennifer. You are providing some great information. I agree that we need to use multiple modalities simultaneously to heal and I always recommend that my clients utilize some form of body work while we are using parts work. That said, I would argue that parts work can shift the nervous system. It has for me. If parts work is done at a cognitive level, it won’t. But if we are accessing the emotions as a part of the work, it does. My entire physical and energetic body has changed from the emotional expression and writing associated with parts work.
I am too intense! It is hard for me to just take the time to play with my dog, take her for a walk, or relax. I have too much that needs to be done! I am too busy.
My mother, wouldn’t pay attention to me and did everything in her power to suppress me. She told me that I was over reacting and that I perceived everything incorrectly. Nothing that anybody did to me to hurt me was ever “meant that way”, “she didn’t mean that”, “you are just over sensitive” etc. All that these kinds of messages made me doubt my own feelings and perceptions and intensified my disassociation; I couldn’t trust my perceptions or my feelings. It made connecting with myself that much more difficult.
I find most people tiring and a waste of my time. If there is no agenda, then what is the point of an interaction. I have to have a goal. Are they here to listen to me or to have me listen to them?
I believe that it is the dissociation that causes me such alarm. If I am invalidated or my perceptions are criticized then fear the loss of myself… again.
Yes! There are so many fears that play into our intensity.
Wow! All these years of being told I was “too intense”, “too much”, “too emotional”, and “too sensitive”; I had no idea they were actually positive traits! I saw them as proof of how damaged and different I was. To read that they come from my authentic self, but they’ve been “traumafied”, gives me hope that someday I will know who I am. Someday, I will be able to be me. No masks, no fronts, no need for approval; simply being myself! Yes, I am intense! When I feel; I feel deeply! It comes out in my words, facial expressions, and hand gestures. I scare people away! I thought it was because I was bad, or the way I expressed myself, was wrong. When, in fact, they were wrong. My intensity wasn’t bad; they just couldn’t handle it. Same with my sensitivity. That’s their problem; not mine! Thank you for being so real.
Definitely! That is their problem and not yours.
I am intense person and I fight to hide it at the expense of myself. Always too much, to open, too something is the common complaint. I mask myself and then I’m not enough. Seems like a no win situation. I thank you for your intensity and dedication on helping survivor’s heal from abuse.
Thank you Deborah! It really does feel like we can’t win. I see my son battling that right now in his own young life. People want him to be less of who he is and I have to keep encouraging him. It’s so difficult.
Absolute awesomeness, I so relate to the intensity and have beat myself down for it with shame, I LOVE seeing it in this light and can totally relate. “Not every moment has a goal”, I love that to, I don’t do well without the goal, feeling lost and not fitting in. Again, you’re writing brings new light to understanding and acceptance of self. I applaud your intensity, your sharing of insights and quandaries and continued forward movement. Thank you!
Thank you so much Mary!
This is my truth too – the truth of my intensity. I am intense. I approach life in an intense way. As a child, there was no time for play or fun. There was only hyper vigilance and waiting for what bad thing would happen next. On some level, my intensity was learned and it was a survival strategy I needed desperately.
I am too intense at work – only because I feel responsible for everything because if something falls down – i will be blamed and lose my job. I watch others like a hawk and if they aren’t doing their share I dislike them cause eventually i will get in trouble for their lack of work ethic. I hate this part because it eventually gets me to a place where I am trying to control everyone and people dislike me but I’m glad you put a word to it for me – I am intense. I have a sticky note on my desk that says “You are not responsible”. To remind me i don’t have to watch others and be the keeper of the work. But I know I am avoiding something inside – by criticizing and watching others – I am avoiding feeling something because I’m keeping the focus on the outside. Shame here I come – its time we had it out.
In relationships – what does a good friend look like – how many times should i contact – what is too much – how do i hold on to this relationship – how do i get it right? How much truth can I tell?
I don’t have fun – i don’t know how. Like the game of frisbee – how do i do that am I allowed? What does that look like.
I think so many of us are struggling with these questions. Balance is not something we were able to learn. Fun was not available while we were trying to survive. And everything was our responsibility even when it wasn’t. So it can be so confusing when our parts are still driven by the past survival skills. Over time, as we process our traumatic emotions, we can release some of our trauma responses and find a bit more balance. That is possible.
I have heard this, too. And the gender bias. I hated hearing, “Smile! It can’t be that bad!” from much old men in my youth.
Quite patronizing. I pasted on a smile and kept going, but really wanted to say, “What the hell business is it of yours?”, but I knew that would likely elicit a nasty (unsafe) reaction or ongoing conversation that I didn’t want.
I can be intense when focused on what I’m working on. I may not smile, but I’m happy inwardly. I don’t have a cheerleader personality, though I’ve had a few people wish I did. I’m more reserved, with some exceptions. And, like you state in this post, it’s one of the ways some others expect me to change so they’re more comfortable around me.
I accommodated myself often. But, no suprpise, there was always someone who disapproved anyway.
A few years ago, I remembered this story I learned years ago. It helps when I remind myself of it:
https://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type1215.html
I like that story. It is absolutely impossible to please everyone. There is no doubt about it.
Thank you for this. I hear it all the time; and it’s never in a positive way. It’s frustrating and disheartening to not feel like you can be yourself and express things how you naturally need to because of judgement. I too, have to admit that I AM intense; but finding the balance and the ones who appreciate the good parts about it has been so hard.
It is definitely not an easy journey to balance. And the people who appreciate the good parts can be hard to find. Keep working to love your intensity and others will too. But it is quite the journey.
I hate this about myself. Sure, there are lots of areas of my life where it is useful, but it doesn’t work for me in social situations. It seems like I just can’t help myself. Someone wants to casually talk about something, and I jump in with some intense story that they don’t really want to know. I would like to be less intense, but I do believe my trauma made into this person, and I don’t think I can change it after all these years. To me, life is serious, and it is next to impossible for me to let go of that position…
I do think this comes from our desperate need to be heard. We have spent our entire lives focusing on surfacey, masky stuff while writhing in pain underneath. And we know we can’t sustain it. Even if we do heal all the trauma, we will always be deep. That is who we are. Honestly, we wouldn’t go through recovery if we weren’t.