What’s your weirdly debilitating “superpower”?

Be warned, for I am brimming with all manner of superpowers.  One is heightened sensitivity, which if I’m being honest, doesn’t feel very much like a superpower.

For me, being highly sensitive means absorbing other people’s emotions – including those on TV or in films – to the point where I often can’t separate mine from theirs.

I will also ‘wear’ the prevailing atmosphere in a room for hours after being in it, which is draining to say the least.  Socialising and small talk zap my energy, so I can’t do either for too long.  Afterwards, I must actively plan time on my own to recharge, like a worn-out phone battery.

Even being with a group of friends can be difficult, because of the wildly different energies and emotions (even the unspoken ones) all in the same place.  I can be deeply affected by light, sounds, textures, and smells that other people barely register.

(When I was a kid, I was forever being dragged out of cinemas and theatres because the audience’s cheers were too loud, or I found a scene so unbearably sad that I couldn’t stop crying over it.  Even now, there are certain films and TV shows I absolutely can’t watch.  Sometimes I feel like a massive diva).

And the list goes on.

Another superpower I’m blessed with (apparently) is otroversion.

Basically, this means that I don’t get on very well in groups.  I never feel like I fit in.  I’ve written about this particular tendency in the past, but I wasn’t aware it was an actual thing.  I just thought I was strange.

Again, is being an otrovert honestly a “superpower”?  It doesn’t feel like one.  I can always be relied upon to criticise, disagree, and contradict in meetings, even if only in my head.  Meanwhile, never feeling like I fit in means I regularly miss out on bonding with lovely, like-minded people in group settings, just because I don’t get on in group settings.

Actually, it’s more accurate to say I can’t get on in group settings.  Just like it’s easier to say that I can’t socialise for longer than a couple of hours without needing serious re-charging time.  These aren’t really choices.

Sometimes, when I tell people about these “superpowers”, they’ll say “I don’t like being in a roomful of strangers, either”, or “I get nervous in groups, too.”

Nerves and stranger-danger have never been issues for me, though.  I’ve always thought of myself as an introvert (I even wrote an article for Introvert, Dear about business networking), but an introvert who’s OK about making a speech, or striking up a conversation with someone they don’t know.  I don’t love public speaking, but I can do it without worrying too much.

So, the article about otroversion was an interesting read.  It helped me understand a few things about myself, shedding more light on why I never feel moved to join writers’ groups or book clubs, but why I can chat with new people or make a speech quite easily.  Why working for myself is the best possible option.  But just like heightened sensitivity, I don’t see otroversion as a superpower.  I wouldn’t even say it was a gift. It’s just something I seem to be.

One of the nicest things about getting older is knowing yourself better.

I’ve spent year after exhausting year trying to enjoy group events.  I’ve always loved the idea of being the life and soul of the party, but I never will.  I get that now… though it’s a shame I didn’t get it last year, when I thought it’d be fun to have my hen weekend in an enormous ‘party’ house with 18 guests.  I could have saved myself, and them, a small fortune!

I’m not sure that constantly hyping unusual or misunderstood human traits as “superpowers” is all that helpful.  Not when you’ve spent half your life doing battle with them.

I think I’d rather just gently get to know them, instead.