Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: intuition

Using my intuition–or not

Yesterday’s post took off on a tangent from which I never returned. I started out talking about my intuition about people, which I want to continue now. I mentioned how there are two YouTubers on different sites that I have watched and the first time I saw them streaming together, I instantly knew they were banging. Or if they weren’t banging at the time, they¬† were very attracted to each other. When they came out with a tweet that they had been together for a year (at a later date), so many of their fans expressed surprise. Whereas to me, it was so obvious. Take a look at the video below and tell me if you can guess who they are.

Another time, I was talking to my brother about why I don’t like movies. He said of course I didn’t like them because I could see what was happening a mile off and they weren’t authentic enough. I was surprised he had said that not because it wasn’t true because it was pretty perceptive of him to pick up on it. He has made comments since then about my ability to intuit things about people that most people can’t.

Related, there was someone on one of the advice blogs I frequent that said empaths aren’t real. Um, what? Yes, we are. The way she stated it so confidently shook me to my care. If she had said she didn’t think it was real, that would have been one thing. But to state it as if it were a fact when it’s just her opinion? It’s the same when a woman flatly told me that women don’t imagine how strangers would be in bed after I had just told her I did that.

Then, of course there was the classic of what happened when I told my mother I was bi. Why I told her, I don’t know. Unwarranted optimism that since she had just supported my cousin as coming out as gay and she was a psychologist, I thought she’d do the same for me. Nope. She was horrified, to say the least, and she trotted out the classic, “But what next? Animals?” Which, why is it always animals????

When someone denies who you are, it’s hard not to let that shake you. When it comes to the perception thing, I have such a heightened sense of others, it can be intrusive. You know how we all have masks when we’re out and about in the world? It’s a necessary thing and one that I support. Unfortunately, I’m someone who can pierce that veil without even trying. I learned at an early age that I can unerringly know the cruelest way to hurt someone without even really thinking about it.

If I talk to you (general you) for ten minutes, I can find it. 90% of people will hand me the information I need to cut you to pieces. And when I get angry, of course I want to go for the jugular. I try really hard not to do it, but I can’t say that I have never hit a low blow.


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Piercing the veil

I was re-watching a video with two people who are a couple (from different websites), but didn’t announce it until they were together for a year. There were so many messages to them on Twitter gasping in delight (and shock) that they were able to hide it so well.

Except, they didn’t. The first video with the both of them (included in this post)that I saw, I immediately thought, “They’re bonking.” This might have been before they officially hooked up, but it was just so obvious to me. Have a look and see if you can tell. It was just a flash of thought and I did not dwell on it, but something about the way they were bantering screamed ‘couple’ to me.

I’ve always had this ability to read people–and it’s more a negative than a plus. It’s one reason I prefer being on my own The inundation of unwanted emotions from other people was always getting in the way of day-to-day life.

It’s a question of chicken and egg to an extent. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t responsible for my parents’ emotions, which meant that I had to attune my sensitivity radar to eleven to make sure I never made a misstep. My father was the only one allowed to have big emotions whereas my mother couldn’t stop whining in my ear since I was eleven. I really struggle with the concept that we can’t hold the victims of abuse responsible for their own actions when they in turn abuse other people, including their children.

There’s a letter to Ask A Manager about a woman who was being abused, given the name ‘Jane’. In order to talk to the cops, she framed her coworker, named….ah, Mary? Sandra? Let’s say Mary for fraud. The cops came and arrested Mary, who was forced to move out of her house and in with her father because of the turmoil. It was Jane’s manager who wrote in–and it was an investment firm so fraud is a big deal. oh, and the husband, ‘Joe’, worked at the firm as well–and after the investigation, Joe was arrested, but Mary’s life was in tatters. She wanted to know how to deal with the situation.


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Let me tell you about yourself

My brother was over yesterday helping me with my new compy. I ordered Thai to thank him for his help. We were eating yellow curry (chicken and potato–outstanding!) when he said, “I thought about what you said a few weeks ago.” I looked at him expectantly because I didn’t remember what we talked about a few weeks ago. I mean, in general, yes, I could remember, but I wasn’t sure what he meant specifically.

“When you said I was probably somewhere on the spectrum, it made so many things clear.” Oh, damn. Yes, I had said something about him being on the spectrum, but I thought that was obvious. Like, he’s the stereotype of someone on the spectrum and his son was also clearly on the spectrum when he (the son) was very young.

I apologized to him because I normally don’t tell people about themselves. It’s not a nice thing to do and it can really freak people out. I understand that. I don’t like it when people think they know me better than I know myself (but it’s usually because they don’t) and I don’t want to do the same thing to other people (even though I do know them better). But for some reason, I thought he knew. We’d talked about it before, but perhaps it didn’t sink in. Or maybe the other times I didn’t tell him explicitly that he was on the spectrum. I’m pretty sure I have, but it doesn’t really matter.

He cut short my apology and said that he was glad I had said that because it had explained so many things. We recounted the ways it made sense. He’s not aware of feelings. I mean, he can tell broadly if someone is happy or sad, but not the more nuanced things like distraught versus upset. Miffed versus irritated. Giddy versus exuberant, etc. Nor can he always tell why someone is in that mood. He joked that all his sensitivity for emotions was given to me instead, which isn’t really a joke. I have double the dose and he has less than half the dose.

Other ways he looks like he’s on the spectrum: when he was younger, he could not look people in the eyes. Being very interested in mechanical things (taking things apart at a young age), being hyper-focused on one thing for hours. Some others I didn’t mention: not great social skills (though we’ve talked about that ad nauseam), fidgety, and being rigid on how things ‘should’ be done. To me, it was a textbook case.


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