Negative Beliefs that Didn't Belong to Me: I'm Sensitive

Only a fragile ego would label their child sensitive for calling out their harmful behavior.

Pause. ⏸️ Thank you for reading the second part of my series “Negative Beliefs that Didn’t Belong to Me”. If you haven’t read the first part, please do (see link below). I realized I carry an unworthiness wound, built from 3 different negative self beliefs that started in childhood: 1. I’m ungrateful, 2. I’m sensitive, 3. I’m lazy. After I write about each of these, I will tie them all together in Part 4, where I will explain how these built my unworthiness wound. My goal here is to share how I’ve released these negative self beliefs and the unworthiness wound in hopes of connecting with others who may share, or shared, similar beliefs and wounds. In this article we will go into depth about the second negative self belief projected unto me: I’m sensitive.

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The statement “You’re sensitive!” was something I heard more times than I can count, and honey, I can count. Often times, what would accompany that statement was “You can’t take a joke!”. Like any other child developing, you believe any authority figure, especially the man raising you. I grew up a daddy’s girl. I wanted to be wherever he was. My dad was my best friend. I didn’t go a day without speaking to him when my parents were together and when they split. However, there was a side to him I bore witness to as I grew up, that stunted me until I was 31.

The thing about me being told “you’re sensitive!” is that, it’s actually true. I’m very sensitive. I’m sensitive to sounds. I’m sensitive to touch. I’m sensitive to what people say about me and others. This negative self belief is the most complex of the three, because it’s true. This truth was unfortunately weaponized against me, causing me to 1. silence my true feelings and 2. not stand up for myself because, they’re not the problem, my sensitivity is. Right? Wrong. His covert ways of silencing me through these blanket statements stemming from the shame around his sensitivity, made me the perfect target for the bullies I’d soon meet in school and the dating woes as young woman.

somewhere during the time Cash Money Records took over

Childhood Bullying

I’ve spoke about childhood bullying a time or two on here, but not in depth. Childhood bullying did a number on me, especially during ages 9-12. If your safest space doesn’t allow you to express hurt feelings without resolve and labels you something negative, you can imagine my self esteem outside of the home. Self esteem, according to Merriam Webster, is a confidence and satisfaction in oneself. I was not confident or satisfied with myself. My feelings were negated and even mocked by my God given protector. So when I showed up to school, I did not show up confidently; I showed up hoping to appease people. I was the perfect prey for children who likely did not have control in their home and were seeking control outside of it.

The worst wasn’t the bullying, it was the betrayal; friends who chose the “cool kids” over me. At 32, I understand it was social survival for them, but as a child, I couldn’t understand how they could not only abandon our friendship, but for people who actively sought to hurt me for simply existing. Some of these weren’t just friends, our families were friends, we’d been around each other since we were in diapers... Then they’d try to stick up for my bullies while offering advice as to how I can appease them. News flash - it didn’t work. Not to mention, they never once tried to get my bullies to stop, making me feel at fault for how I was being treated. Furthering the belief that my sensitivity is the problem.

Comedic Relief

At age 12, I did find something that worked. Comedy. I remember praying before going into middle school for a shift, a change as I entered a new chapter. Then God reminded me, I am good at making people laugh. I didn’t know it at the time, but I also had incredible pattern recognition. I would practice scripts in my head of what to say if they said something about me - I still do this.

Pause. ⏸️ That is a real dash. I’m a real human. It’s taken me nearly two weeks to write this, because it’s unpacking pain that I still carry. Just had to put that out there in the age of AI.

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I often could predict who would say what, so I had to stay ready. I even had some “jokes” to say back to them, should it get to that point. Killing them with kindness didn’t work in elementary, but killing them with laughter? It worked, especially if I was making fun of myself, which made middle school a lot easier. I got pretty good at self deprecating jokes, that’s what seemed to work best and honestly, I’d much rather make fun of myself than someone else. You know, the “if you can’t beat em, join em mentality”. Many would laugh and they soon realized, I’m much funnier than them trying to spew hate. Making myself the butt of the joke was great for survival, but I had to unlearn that in my mid twenties.

Not to mention, I got into a scuffle in the spring before middle school and people realized that I could fight. Momma said don’t ever hit someone first, but if they hit you, you hit em back to protect yourself. And when the opportunity presented itself, those hits back weren’t just for the girl who started it, it was for everyone else that hurt me. I suppose that’s why I won, lots of suppressed anger. No one ever said anything to me directly, but I do remember thinking maybe they don’t mess with me anymore - they’re scared of me. Shit, I’d take it!

I got into this fight on picture day (after pics were taken). I did lose one of these earrings in the fight that belonged to my mom; luckily, she didn’t care because I stood up for myself.

New Kid on the Block

My sophomore year of high school, I decided to move with my dad which resulted in me going to a new school. I will never forget that first day of school when lunch time came and I didn’t know a soul. It was scary. Where do I sit? I began panicking. Everyone knew everyone. I wanted a fresh start at a new school, but I realized I was emotionally unprepared for said change. Thankfully, I had a crutch; my dad was a teacher at my high school, so I had lunch with him. I did this a few times, but I was embarrassed, so I forced myself to try going to the cafeteria again. I ended up sitting by myself and a group of girls asked if I wanted to sit with them. I gleefully did for the rest of the semester.

I made friends here and there throughout high school, but it wasn’t until I was a junior that I had friends to go to homecoming with. They weren’t my besties, but they were somebody I could call a friend for the first time in well over a year.

My senior year though, it all changed for the better. I met my best friend and she was new too. We instantly bonded and I remember feeling excited and uncomfortable when she asked if I wanted to hangout over the weekend. I’d gotten used to being a loner and I was scared I was going to fuck it up. She was new too and I hoped she didn’t think I could help her make friends. Everyone knew me as Mr. [Redacted]’s daughter - having no identity of my own, so I feared she would be disappointed in being my friend, considering I had little social currency. Fast forward, I didn’t fuck it up. We are still best friends to this day. I’m her kids’ TT Bri. She is literal family. We even have matching tattoos lol. She made me feel safe, seen and loved and even healed the wound of betrayal I had carried from years prior. I love you ES.

Leaving the Nest

As mentioned in Part 1, I went to college 12 hours away. Despite my dating woes, I blossomed in friendships. There were a few so called friends who tried it, but for the most part, I had friends. Real friends. After college, I continued to nourish those relationships and created more.

Now, I damn near have too many friends. Younger me wouldn’t believe it! It’s hard to keep up with people that I love, go to work, take care of myself and work on my dreams, but I still hear “you’re sensitive!” and “you can’t take a joke!”, even in friendships that I’ve had for over ten years.

Last year, a best friend of mine hurt my feelings. I knew I had to tell her, but I didn’t know how. How do I say, “hey can you like my posts?” It sounds silly and elementary, but I noticed her absence in my posts. On my stories, she was active. On my actual posts, she was not and I was trying to grow my YouTube channel and TikTok presence. After weeks of letting it stir in me, I brought it up and despite the years and depth of friendship, I prepared myself mentally for the friendship to change or stop because I thought “I’m just being sensitive”. I even said to myself, “who would want to be friends with someone who gets in their feelings over social media?” My best friend was so gentle with me and apologized that it was coming across that way and we talked through it like mature adults who value our friendship and feelings. She even followed it up with changed behavior regarding my social media - a real apology.

Afterwards, it healed the wound in me that I cannot speak up for myself without being dismissed emotionally or physically. It also showed me that genuine apologies can exist and aren’t full of the perfect words and empty promises so I can quickly move on and shut-up. I share this story because this is a self belief that I still have to work on, but at 31, my best friend helped me rewrite the story around apologies and speaking up for myself. I love you VM.

Pause. ⏸️ Whew! This one was not easy because I couldn’t write my truth without protecting those who didn’t protect me. I may face backlash or triangulation for this, but I guess that’s the price I’d have to pay. This is the hardest negative belief because it’s not wrong, but it took time for me to acknowledge and release the shame around my sensitivity. I know I’m not ungrateful. I know I’m not lazy. But I am sensitive and that is okay.My sensitivity is what makes my love deeper. My sensitivity is what makes me feel connected in nature. My sensitivity helps me to fully see others and their gifts. My sensitivity is what reminds me that I’m a human having a human experience. I’m honored to still hold my sensitivity in high regard in a cold and volatile world; a strength few have.

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I will leave you with these questions to journal and ponder

1. What is a strength of yours that was once used as a weakness or a negative self belief?

2. Who gave you that negative self belief? Write their name(s) down.

3. Write a letter to those people releasing this negative self belief. Afterwards, store it or burn it. Your choice.

I will be back soon with part 3 of this series with “I’m Lazy”, but as always, thank you for reading. If you feel called to like, comment, or share this with someone this may resonate with, please do. Until next time. 🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨

Originally posted on Substack March 22, 2026 (https://open.substack.com/pub/thebrianadionne/p/negative-beliefs-that-didnt-belong-565?r=2is9ez&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web)