SENSITIVE OR TOUCHY?

Evening Star, Issue 23113, 12 November 1938, Page 3

SENSITIVE OR TOUCHY?

What is the fine line, invisible to the uninitiated, where sensitiveness ends and touchiness .begins? I have often wanted this explained to me by those people who .speak with a certain mournful pride of their own acute sensitiveness; for it is a peculiarity of this quality that it appears to invest its possessor with a gentle but undeniable superiority complex. I have never been able to understand why, unless it be that super-sensitiveness is presumed to be a sign of high and delicate breeding —rather like not being able to bear the smell of onions or wear wool next the akin. The head master of a preparatory school once told me that more than 90 per cent, of his mothers at a first interview mentioned with deprecating pride the fact that little Peter was an abnormally sensitive child. Thereby, if they had only realised it. proclaiming themselves total failures at their jobthat of bringing up Peter to the age of 10 years,” he finished triumphantly you know the abominable superiority with which these educationists like to pounce upon yet another weakness of the poor .parent. Still. I must confess that I, too, have remarked a tendency in parents to boast of the unusual sensitiveness of their own offspring. Of course, not openly; they make a decent pretence of regret—but it is only a pretence. Beneath it you can see exultation, the calm confidence that this super-sensitiveness is yet/only another proof—if. indeed, proof be needed —that their child is set apart from the lesser breeds without the law. But the painful truth is that these unreasonably sensitive people are nothing but a nuisance—both to themselves and the rest of the world. Their friends feel uncomfortable .in their presence, are always afraid of saying the wrong thing, have to walk circumspectly,' and be Ter ever considering their easily-inflamed feelings, then unduly swollen ego, and no one likes walking circumspectly; it destroys ordinary, easy social intercourse.- Everybody becomes uneasy in their. presence and glances round furtively to see whether ho has said the wrong thing. Curiously enough, this super-sensitiveness very often ceases to function outside their own particular feelings; they are so busy thinking 'of themselves that they do not always spare time to consider the reactions of other people. As, for their own happiness, nothing could possibly be more destructive of it than this undue, unreasonable sensitiveness. Life must become a misery to - such people and social contacts a psnance. Causes of offence lurk everywhere ; insults are thick as blackberries, and unpleasant innuendos leer mockingly from the most innocent words. Their imaginations are so unhealthily stimulated that they are continually miserable for-no reason at all, •ind their whole interest is so fiercely centred upon themselves that they cannot conceive of'such a thing as a harmless generality. But, even so, you mustn t call them touchy. Sensitiveness they will admit, and that not without complacency but touchiness is quite a different quality. There is something ridiculous about a touchy ' person; your sensitive man has a wan dignity, but touchiness lacks all the high-bred distinction that the other confers upon its possessor. A touchy person is usually fust a fool; a •sensitive ono may be unfortunate, but his

Written by MARY SCOTT, jor the ‘ Evening Star.’

suffering has something fine and subtle about it that sets him apart from the 'common herd. It is a fine distinction, and for my own part 1 have novel been able to appreciate it. We are all born sensitive. The aristocracy has no monopoly of feelings. They are the common heritage of all humanity, and it is our destiny to orapplc with them and subdue them To their due place in our scheme of things. Admitting that there are degrees of the quality, the truth yet remains that we can either control it or exploit it, and the controlling power is largely unselfishness. It is only the” egotist who hugs imagined slights to himself and ■ broods over fanned wrongs; tho unselfish - member of society knows that we must all encounter slights and rudeness; it is our job to put these behind us and not to allow our own feelings to affect the rest of the world nor our attitude towards it. When we can forget ourselves, insults or unkindiiess possess no real power to hurt us. But, if unselfishness be the strongest weapon in our struggle against supersensitiveness, a sound sense of humour is its most powerful ally. If you can laugh at yourself, no one has much power to'hurt you. If you would help your child to play its part manfully in life teach it to make light of potty misfortunes, to laugh at itself before it begins to laugh at others. Then it can never grow up an egotist and the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune—and other people’s outrageous senses of humour —cannot really prevail against it. I think that this lesson—the necessity for laughing instead brooding—coines second to non© in helping our children to equip themselves for the battle of life.

The fact was brought home to me f lie other day at a children’s party by watching the conduct of two little girls. Both were handicapped for tho fun of the party—the one by a dress far too long for present fashion, the other by the most outrageous hair cut has ever been ray fortune to sec. There was no comparison between the ludierousness of the two; the child in the long frock looked a trifle old fashioned; the other was simply a figure of full. But did she care? I hoard her exclaim gleefully: “ Isn’t my hair funny? It looks as if the calf had chewed it, doesn’t it? ” Now, what satisfaction could the most .heartless of teases derive from making fun of that child? But the other—ah, there was food lor the tormentor there; for that poor little girl shrank into a corner, conscious of her long frock, the day ruined for her. How one longed for It) minutes alone with her, a pair of scissors and a needle and cotton! All the same, there was no need to make such a tragedy of it; watching her, I felt convinced that she was an only child, centre of many loving grown-ups’ care. Therefore I was not a bit surprised when a devoted aunt appeared to take her home and explained that “ Ailsa inustnl't get overtired ; she’s so terribly highly strung and sensitive.” 'Poor little girl, what a lot of unhappiness love is laying in store for you! By the time you are grown up you will be one of those confirmed egotists who go through life with a grievance because the rest of the world obstinately refuses to move out of your way, to refrain from treading upon your toes. . -