I have a complicated history with the term (psychic) empath.

On one hand, I undeniably am one. I say undeniably, because even though I tried to explain the issue in other terms to myself for years, people close to me pointed out in real time when I was absorbing their pain, and didn’t realize it. It’s been wild to watch it happen, and I’m lucky to have psychic-literate people around me.

On the other hand, I cringe at the way the term seemed to always come with a sticky aura of fragility and of covert narcissism, especially online. 

Plus, in the years since I began to gather data about psychic empathy, I realized that us neurodivergent folks don’t always do “empath” exactly as described in books and websites. 

No surprise there. Our psychic channels interplay with the unique shapes and processes of how our nervous systems are wired, giving rise to flavors completely individual to each person.

(On a rough estimate, at least 75% of my clients are empaths as well, so I’ve had a lot of additional  lived experience information to work with.)

Ultimately, it’s paid off to embrace the phenomenon (and the label as a shorthand) and to develop the correct strategies to live in the world with this particular psychic configuration.