A book doesn’t care if you fold the laundry “correctly.” A book doesn’t care what time you put dinner on the table. As far as a book is concerned, you never have to sweep the floor.
A book doesn’t expect anything from you. It doesn’t get mad at you if you have other projects to tend to. A book contentedly waits for you to find a moment to return to it. You can give it 100% of your attention, or let it set there, by the bed, for weeks, before opening it up again. Either way, you aren’t in trouble.
A book doesn’t get jealous of your friends or your family or your successes or the other books you’ve read. A book doesn’t continually remind you of your failings, unless it’s one of those preachy self-help books, but it’d be healthier to stay away from those books anyway.
A book never gives you the stink-eye, or the silent treatment.
A book doesn’t mind if you eat while reading it. It doesn’t care if you dog-ear its corners, or smear a skosh of peanut butter on one of its pages, although the thought of that makes me cringe.
A book doesn’t even notice if the TV is blaring in the background.
A book doesn’t care if you are sensitive or take things personally. Hell, a good book wants you to read between the lines and take things personally.
When a book overwhelms you, it quietly waits as you step back and regroup. It doesn’t badger you to keep reading until your stomach hurts from the tension.
A book doesn’t care if you haven’t shaved your legs in weeks.
A book doesn’t steal the covers, or notice when you do.
Speaking of Good Books
I’ve nearly burned up a highlighter while reading The Highly Sensitive Person. I’m reading it slowly, letting the material sink in, doing the work and processing. The “aha” moments are plenty. Many things that I’ve spent years apologizing for and justifying are making sense now. I didn’t need to make excuses for myself; I needed to understand.
Aron frequently mentions that many do not take HSP seriously. If you are HSP, you are well aware that some think being sensitive is an excuse. We know better.
You aren’t handicapped. You aren’t less than. You aren’t especially needy or difficult. You are highly attuned to others and your surroundings. That’s a good thing.
Oh, and one more thing: I wish I’d dived into the Harry Potter Series a long time ago.