In our world, being sensitive is seen as a weakness. That’s because we associate sensitivity with the inability to handle hardship — sensitive people are easily offended or made upset.

The fact is, being sensitive doesn’t make you weaker necessarily.

Being sensitive means you can feel life.

When military men and women leave the service, we sometimes gravitate toward helping others, in counseling, the arts, the medical field, or in academic settings where we research life. We re-acquaint ourselves with being in tune with the rest of the world, instead of stuffing our feelings inside so we can deal with the bullshit of the day. In other words, we often find ourselves trying to become more sensitive post-service.

The reality is that having sensitivities is like an antenna that puts you in tune with your fellow human being and the world around you. Like a receiver, you quickly and accurately receive other people’s feelings, allowing you to accommodate them more. Then, you start seeing beauty in simple things, like the petal of a rose. It does not necessarily mean you are easily bruised or take offense easily.

If we separate sensitivity to each other from sensitivity to having an easily bruised sense of self, we can then appreciate that being sensitive can also be paired with the idea of toughness. Imagine being able to feel the world’s hurt, other’s pain, responding to them in the way they need it, yet not being bogged down yourself. You can help other’s burdens without feeling burdened yourself. That’s sensitivity when it’s strong. That’s toughness. Even those who are “manly” and “strong” shatter like glass when they have to deal with their repressed feelings — is that really toughness?

I come upon this topic as I think about my own life’s sensitivities. I was often ridiculed as a child for possessing this trait, especially as a boy, and more as I became a man. Now I don’t give a fuck if I cry when something touches me deeply, whether it is the joy of someone’s accomplishments, the pain of someone’s loss, or appreciating my own growth. Now, I find myself in a place to help others more than ever because of my sensitivity. That’s toughness. Sensitivity is life’s gifts to me, and if I may, I would like to share how sensitivity needs to be heeded today.

Roe vs. Wade. Those gloating about their victory with Roe vs. Wade aren’t imagining the individual depth of pain of having their autonomy taken away; the pain of the idea of millions of children growing up in broken and poor homes; the pain of a society who cares to forget them once they’re out the womb; the pain of mothers who cannot raise their children. With one raised fist for victory among anti-abortion advocates, they smack with their other hand women and mothers across this whole country. I cannot say this is sensitivity to its greatest extent; in fact, those gloating about this victory have shown callousness. “They should have made better choices.” “They shouldn’t have sex.” “It’s their own fault.” That’s callousness to the fact that women can and should have sex outside of marriage.

They proclaim saving a life, while ignoring the consequences of their actions that have greater magnitude. Ignoring consequences, in many ways, is a classic example of insensitivity, and the tell-tale trait of an underdeveloped human being.

The beauty of being sensitive is that it’s a trait we are all born with. We come into the world keen to our caregiver’s ups and downs. Our first footsteps are towards our parents and family, giving them hugs. Our first steps after graduation is towards our biggest supporters. Our first walk down the aisle is to be married to a person. None of these walks can happen without sensitivity; we are born with it. I just ask, as we decide to make laws, are we walking towards the people we should love and care for? Or have we turned our backs on them? Perhaps in smug satisfaction of our victory?