when life gets too loud. pink headphones help.
my office this week #2
I was lost in thought mapping out a brilliant idea for a quiz funnel leading to a low-ticket digital product.
When SMASH.
The violent crash of a cymbal ripped me out of my inspired flow state.
At that point, I was so deep inside my imagination I probably would have been startled by someone whispering next to me.
So you can imagine how jarring it was to be bombarded by the sounds of drums, cymbals, and chanting.
To be fair, I had been warned.
The coworking space had announced they would be hosting a lion dance at 2pm. A celebration of Chinese New Year.
I was actually excited when they said it.
What a convenient, low-effort way to experience a cultural event.
Right from my coworking space.
I pulled out my camera and started filming the purple dragon as it beelined toward me. I smiled and posed with the cartoonish Chinese man.
But after a few minutes, something shifted. It wasn’t a cute cultural ritual anymore. The noise started to overwhelm me.
The drums beat with a vengeance. I winced involuntarily with every crash of the cymbal.
There were moments when the sound stopped.
* dramatic pauses in the performance*
And I could feel my whole body vibrating. My ears still buzzing with the sound that had just been there, confused by the abrupt 180 in stimulation.
I put my earbuds in and tried playing some gentle white noise, but it only seemed to add to the cacophony around me.
I started googling:
“best noise canceling headphones for highly sensitive people”
“electronic stores near me”
Basically hoping for an emergency headphone fairy who could bring me protection from the chaos.
I felt the familiar freeze response wash over me.
That uncomfortable feeling of pulsing adrenaline that makes you want to escape — but with an equal force that paralyzes you from taking any action.
Internally my mind was screaming:
I need to get out of here. I need this to stop.
But I never made the conscious decision to move. So I remained in place, staring at my computer screen eyes glazed over.
When it finally ended, instead of relief, I was exhausted and emotional.
I needed to take a nap and have a good cry.
Okay, I understand being exhausted.
But why was I sad? Why did I feel on the verge of tears?
I put on a meditation track and closed my eyes.
The voice told me that my emotions are a soup.
Let them swirl around you as you inhale.
Release them as you exhale.
Inhale.
The swirl of disappointment.
All the times I had planned for a full day sightseeing, only to get tunnel vision in a crowded market.
Exhale. Release.
Inhale.
The swirl of irritation.
Explaining to people that I need to go lie down because being in crowded spaces drains me. Seeing their confused faces as they pretend to understand.
Exhale. Release.
Inhale.
The swirl of shame.
No one else is reacting like this.What is wrong with me?
Exhale. Release.
The lion dance moment isn’t just a one-off incident. It’s just another day in the life of things that trigger my sensory processing disorder.
Elevators with flickering lights.
Eating spicy food that gives me an out-of-body experience. (that one’s kinda fun actually)
Airplanes when the person next to me has B.O.
Stores that play music at unforgiving decibels.
Sometimes it feels like the world is full of landmines I have to carefully dodge.
I travel with essential oils so I can put them under my nose to cover up pungent smells.
I have a “nausea relief” playlist downloaded on Spotify.
I carry crackers and ginger tablets.
I ask strangers on trains to trade seats with me so I can face the direction of movement.
There’s alot of admin required to exist as a highly sensitive person.
I watch people reading books on buses. (light straight up serial killers)
Strolling through bustling city centers.
Dancing in crowds at festivals.
And it honestly baffles me.
They can just… function in environments that completely dysregulate me.
When I travel, I crave peaceful cafés.
Quiet parks.
Empty beaches.
And actually, when I see that list written out, all I can think is:
Why is that a problem? That sounds delightful.
I like the way I travel. I like my preferences. The only thing making my experience painful is all of the “shoulds”
I should enjoy walking tours through crowded city centers.
I should like nights out in loud clubs with flashing lights.
I shouldn’t be so bothered by noise and crowds and smells.
The bigger problem isn’t the sensitivity, it’s all the times I didn’t accept my sensitivity. All the times I wished I were different.
So this week, I’m waving a white flag.
I’m making a peace offering to my highly sensitive nervous system.
And that peace offering comes in the form of a brand-new pair of pink noise-canceling headphones.
Because I can’t control the world around me.
But I can love myself enough to create my own little cone of silence.