I would think, that at my age, I would know myself by now. I mean, I'm me, right, so if I don't know myself, who will? (That sounds rather Pirkei Avos-y.)
But then I surprise myself.
So, long story.
Ma used to be finicky about certain things. She couldn't stand to wear her sheitel over three hours. Sunglasses were carefully selected, as she would feel the weight on her nose. Stockings? Torture. Whenever she walked in the door, her shoes were removed immediately. She even drove with one shoe kicked off.
Then a granddaughter cropped up who, from toddlerhood, couldn't stand socks and shoes. We once took her to a restaurant, where she matter-of-factly removed her footwear, handed them to Ma, and spent the meal happily barefoot.
"Sensory," her older sister explained, about 12 herself at the time.
It was the first time I had heard the term. I'm a child of the '80s, where EI and all that jazz wasn't a "thing." People just . . . had different quirks. Oh, so funny, the two-year-old can't stand shoes! Ha ha!
In my case, for instance, I can't stand having hair resting on my neck. It really really bugs me. That's why I opted for high ponies while I was single. Once I got sheitels it became clear why Ma couldn't stand them. They're so oppressive! When I actually don my wig (which is rarely) I count down the three hours until I've reached my limit. (Han is very sad I wear it so rarely. Tough.)
I was once discussing it with Han, how I can't function when hair is on my neck.
"You're sensory," he said, in a casual, but-of-course tone.
I stared at him.
I remained mute as the realization hit. I'm sensory. Like my mother before me.
I had heard the term before. But I never connected it to me. Sure, Ma was sensory. But me, too?
It's not a major epiphany. But I went from "Oh, I can't stand having hair on my neck" to "I'm sensory, I can't wear a wig every day." "Sensory" gives a validity to personal preferences, rather than my being a pitchetch.
I'm 36, and now I've figured out that I'm sensory. Nice to meet you.
I wonder what traits I'll figure out when I'm 40.
1 comment:
About eighteen months ago, aged thirty-seven, I was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome/high functioning autism. I mention this mostly because it was a late discovery that profoundly changed how I see myself and my place in the Jewish community and the world, and also because it includes sensory sensitivity issues which your post reminded me of. Even though I still probably have not fully adjusted to the diagnosis, it is good to learn more about myself with the possibility at least of living my life in a more comfortable and successful way in the future.
Post a Comment