Not to be too sensitive, but I’d like to take a moment to discuss the gendered implications of sensitivity.
We have a lot of nicknames for sensitive people: little girls, sissies, drama queens, b—–s, p—–s. They all have one pretty noteworthy thing in common: they’re derogatory insults for women. Why? Women are known to be too sensitive, an idea that I’ve internalized.
“Women are too sensitive” is something we’re used to hearing. I hear it when I don’t find something offensive funny. I hear it when I get upset with a romantic partner. I even hear it as a reason not to vote women into politics. Until recently, I’ve internalized the idea that women are too sensitive as a bad thing.
I’m a sensitive person. I’ve always known that, probably because it’s been pointed out to me by so many cisgender straight men since I can remember. And ever since I can remember, it’s never been pointed out as a good thing. Sensitivity has implications: weakness, cowardice, vulnerability — all qualities that are inherently feminine, but inherently lowly. This connection isn’t a coincidence. Femininity is a delicate balance, and it often comes at a price.
I know what you might be thinking: women should be sensitive. If not for our sensitivity, we would not be as nurturing, as maternal or as supportive. Sensitivity is a defining feminine trait, and women are socialized to embody feminine traits. Feminine women are socially desirable, but only within the constraints of femininity. What do those constraints look like? Just off the top of my head — being nurturing, maternal and supportive. Emotional intelligence is important in a spouse, a mother and a friend. But when sensitivity extends outside the domestic gates, it isn’t welcomed in the professional arena.
In order to counter this dilemma, women who want to enter managerial positions, public office and the STEM (science, technology, engineering, mathematics) fields leave their sensitivity at the door. But when women sacrifice their femininity, the same gendered insults take on a different meaning. A female boss is still a b—-, just a less desirable one.
So what are women left to do with their womanhood when sensitivity is perceived as weakness, and a lack of sensitivity suggests a lack of femininity?
When it comes to sensitivity, there seems to be no winning. If a woman is too sensitive, she is dismissed as being dramatic and excessively emotional. If she is not sensitive enough, her innate womanhood is put into question.
Perhaps we need to shift our perspective on how we gender sensitivity. It’s not that women are too sensitive, it’s that men aren’t sensitive enough. This claim is not intended to point fingers at any gender nor place sensitivity on a gender binary.
The truth is, sensitivity is not innate — it’s learned. Women and men are socialized to express their emotions differently, and this is an issue that disadvantages everyone involved. It is especially unfair that women are both expected to be sensitive and invalidated for being sensitive. Sensitivity is not a sign of weakness, but rather an indication of emotional strength.
Emotional intelligence is difficult to develop and maintain, and women are socialized to do both. If men are going to rely on women for emotional intelligence, I’d prefer that they give women the credit for having the empathy to provide it.
Of course, however, it is less of a choice and more of an obligation. We can’t expect women to comfort us as much as we can’t expect men to do the same. If sensitivity is going to be demanded, exploited, and then depicted as weakness, I’d either like us to change the way we value emotional intelligence or socialize men to learn sensitivity, empathy and vulnerability in the same way.
Heck, if we’re feeling crazy, we can even do both.
