Why You Take Everything Personally (And What No One Told You About It)
Let’s be real. You don’t just “hear” what someone says—you absorb it.
A sigh? You feel it like a slap.
A short text? Your stomach drops.
If they are quiet? You spiral.
Taking things personally isn’t a flaw—it’s a reaction to what you’ve been through…
Someone trained you to feel this way.
Maybe you were in a relationship like mine—one where your partner, or parents, made sure you were never really safe. Where you had to study their mood the way a sailor studies the sky.
Because one wrong word, one wrong look, could start a storm.
I know what that feels like.
To live in a home that felt more like a test.
To love someone who used your love against you.
To be blamed for everything—their anger, their silence, their outbursts, their boredom.
When you’re with an abuser, especially for years, you don’t just fear them—you become them in your own head.
You start criticizing yourself before they can.
You start shrinking your needs because it’s safer that way.
You start interpreting everything around you as a threat.
That’s why you take things personally.
Because you were trained to see danger in the subtlest shifts.
You were taught that mistakes mean punishment.
That emotions are weapons.
That love means walking on eggshells while setting yourself on fire to keep someone else warm.
So now, when someone gives you feedback, you feel attacked.
When someone pulls away, you assume it’s your fault.
When someone’s upset, you blame yourself.
But here’s the part you need to hear:
It’s not your fault.
You were conditioned to believe that your survival depended on reading people perfectly.
You weren’t being sensitive—you were being smart.
You were protecting yourself.
But now?
Now you don’t have to live like that anymore.
That voice in your head telling you “you messed up,” “they hate you,” “you ruined everything”—
That’s not your voice.
That’s theirs.
That’s the voice of the person who broke you down, not the one who gets to build you back up.
And you’re allowed to question it.
You’re allowed to replace it.
You’re allowed to heal—even if they never apologize.
So if you’re sitting there wondering why you take things so personally, let me say this:
You’re not crazy.
You’re not broken.
You’re carrying a survival instinct that once kept you safe—but it doesn’t have to run your life anymore.
You can learn to breathe again.
To trust again.
To love without fear.
To hear someone’s words without turning them into wounds.
You’re allowed to take your power back.
One truth at a time.
Yoli's Write To Sanity 