The Weight of Sensitivity
She feels everything. And I mean EVERYthing. She feels pain that doesn’t belong to her. Someone else’s sadness can become her sadness. Someone else’s frustration can trigger her own. Even the tone of my voice, if off just slightly, can upset her thinking I am upset or bothered with her, leaving us in a silence that is hard on the both of us.
That kind of sensitivity can be exhausting for her, and honestly, it can often be exhausting for me too. It’s that intense level of sensitivity that makes her one of the most compassionate people I know.
She notices everything: the way I look at her when I’m tired, the sound of my voice when I’m not okay, the way a stranger looks uncomfortable across the room. She sees what most people miss.
Her sensitivity isn’t a flaw. It’s her gift.
She is also a feeler. She is emotionally in tune with everything around her, making life harder for her in ways most people can’t understand. The world isn’t built for people who carry this much emotion. Decisions weigh heavier. Mistakes linger longer. Criticism cuts deeper. She doesn’t just process experiences, she absorbs them. My thought is that she is walking through life without any emotional armor. Yet she still gets up every day and keeps going. That takes strength most people will never know.
Living With ADHD
Her ADHD doesn’t come with a pause button. There are no neat lines or tidy boxes for her to fit into. Her brain is both her superpower and her battlefield. She is constantly fighting to stay on task while also hyper-focusing on multiple things that might not seem important in the moment. She forgets appointments even when they’re on her calendar, and she misplaces items (a lot), like misplacing her “cellular device” at least five times a day; but conveniently, she does this nearly every time she needs to be walking out of the door for work. All while being quite forgetful, she remembers birthdays, anniversaries, phone numbers from 20 years ago and what someone said six months ago that made her feel seen.
She can go from vibrant to overwhelmed in a matter of seconds. From dancing in the kitchen to lying in bed crying. I’ve had to learn not to take that personally and, after 18+ years, I still struggle remembering this. But this is not about me. It’s how she navigates her world. What looks like chaos to others is actually a constant balancing act of trying to stay grounded when her mind is spinning at full speed.
And yet, with all of that going on, she’s managed to do what some people without ADHD could never do.
Her Journey in Education
My wife is the definition of resilience. When I met her, she was a Licensed Practical Nurse (LPN) and a single mother. Most people would’ve stopped there and said, “That’s enough. That’s strong.” But not her.
She decided she wanted more for herself, for her daughter, for the people she would care for in the future. She worked. She studied. She sacrificed. Through moments of self-doubt, through days and nights of exhaustion, through the chaos of parenting, two pregnancies and undiagnosed ADHD and life, she kept going.
She became a Registered Nurse (RN), having a traumatic birth experience with our Timmy in between semesters. After Gracee was born, she earned her bachelor’s in nursing (BSN). Not knowing what to do after her BSN, she studied to become a certified addictions registered nurse (CARN). Then, while working two jobs to support our family, she got her Masters in Nursing to become a Psychiatric Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP). It was during this time that her ADHD had become a real problem for her, and she was “officially” diagnosed. And now? She’s on her way to earning her Doctorate of Nursing Practice (DNP).
Let me sum this up: a Native woman with ADHD, who feels deeply and gives endlessly, is about to be a doctorate-level provider in a field where compassion and understanding are everything.
She didn’t just push herself with her education. She broke generational cycles. She redefined what success looks like—not just for her, but for her family and the people who come after her.
What People Don’t See
To the world, she might come off a little scattered and maybe a little “too much.” Too emotional. Too intense. Too hard to follow. But they don’t see the battles she fights behind the scenes.
They don’t see her replaying conversations in her head, wondering if she said the wrong thing. They don’t see her getting stuck in her own brain, wanting desperately to complete a task but feeling physically unable to focus. They don’t see her on the days she shuts down completely—not because she’s lazy or selfish, but because her brain is literally overloaded.
And they certainly do not see the strength it takes to get up the next morning, brush off yesterday’s chaos, and try again.
They don’t see her in bed at 2 a.m., eyes wide-open, wide-awake doom scrolling because she isn’t tired yet when she knows she is.
They don’t see how hard the emotional drain is on her. There are some days she just stays in bed all day sleeping.
But I do. I see it all. And I love her not in spite of it—but because of it. She’s not weak. She’s a warrior.
What I’ve Learned from Her
What I’ve learned from her goes deeper than any self-help book or podcast ever could. She’s taught me that empathy isn’t about understanding, it’s about action. It means showing up for her, especially when it’s inconvenient, messy, or emotionally draining. I’ve learned that love isn’t about fixing someone. She doesn’t need to be fixed, she needs to be supported, respected, and accepted exactly as she is. I’ve come to realize that sometimes silence is more powerful than advice and just by sitting with her in her overwhelm can be healing.
Why I’d Do It All Over Again
Yes, it’s hard. No one prepares you for what it means to love someone who feels so deeply and thinks so differently. But the truth is that as much as I want easy, I want real. And she is real in a world full of filters.
I’d do it all again—the misunderstandings, emotional overloads, the hard talks, the miscommunications, the curveballs, the breakdowns, and the breakthroughs—because she’s worth it.
Not because she’s perfect. But because she’s mine. And because in loving her, I’ve learned how to truly love at all.
