I See the Gift. And I Know the Cost.

My ability to attune to others wasn’t learned in a classroom — it was shaped by a life that demanded I read every room, every silence, every shift. Now I see the gift. And I know the cost.

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Maybe my tutors see something in me.

An ability to attune.
To listen closely.
To notice what isn’t being said.
To sit in silence and still feel someone’s pain.

But I don’t think they see it as something I earned through hard work in the traditional sense.
I think they know — like I do — that this attunement came from something deeper.
From survival.

Because that’s what it was.
A way of being that formed when I had no choice.
When reading the room was the difference between being safe or not.
When meeting someone else’s emotional need was how I avoided punishment, shame, or withdrawal.


It’s taken me a long time to see it as a gift.
And even now, I say that with caution.
Because a gift should come freely.
This one didn’t.

It came from loss.
From absence.
From needing to anticipate danger before it arrived.

But now, in the right spaces —
when I’m grounded, and with people who are safe —
it can be a gift.
It helps me connect.
It helps me hold others with presence.
It makes me a better parent, a better peer, a better listener.

And maybe that’s what my tutors see.


I imagine they’ve been through similar things.
There’s a quiet kind of compassion they carry —
not the kind you perform,
but the kind you feel.
A kind of knowing.

They’re not jealous of the gift.
Because they know the price.
They’ve likely paid it, too.

And in that, there’s something healing.
Something human.
Something true.


I used to think my sensitivity made me weak.
Now I see that it makes me deeply, devastatingly real.

I see the gift.
And I know the cost.

And I’m learning how to hold both.