You worked hard for your thick skin: Now shed it.

As a sensitive, soft spoken, empathetic introvert, one thing was clear when I began a career in the corporate world 17 years ago: I had to grow thicker skin.

I’d heard it so many times before that I simply internalized it. Every time my first boss screamed and tore pages out of the proposals I’d prepared because I missed a minor detail. Every time I cried in the bathroom because multiple high level execs openly discussed my ineptitude (a result of zero on the job training in an entry level role) in a meeting, with me present. And every time I tried to search for another job, to find someplace that suited me more, only to be told that “it’s like this everywhere.”

I got the message loud and clear: I was the one who needed to change. The problem was me.

The problem with having to maintain thick skin

You may have been told this, too. You may have learned that the qualities you have that make you highly sensitive, compassionate, perceptive, contemplative, and wise are not valuable, but in fact weaknesses. You may have been expected to shutter them up and cover them with layers of hard and unnatural armor. To make yourself “strong.” But this is not strength, this is hiding. And it takes a toll.

“Thick skin” gives a free pass for other people’s emotional dysregulation, harassment, and unprofessional behavior.

“Thick skin” dulls our innate intuitive senses and makes us less effective (not more).

“Thick skin” forces us to bury and bypass real, valuable emotional responses, labeling them as “inappropriate” or “dramatic”, invalidating them (and by extension ourselves) to the point where they take root in our bodies and make us sick.

“Thick skin” prevents other people from seeing who we really are, our inherent beauty, gifts, and capabilities. And it prevents us from seeing others clearly, too.

“Thick skin” is a weakness. We walk through the world numb and distracted because of it, and lament that we don’t know what will make us feel happy and fulfilled in our lives.

An alternative approach

I will encourage you – if you are walking around with this armor on – to entertain the thought of letting it go. It does not happen all at once, it takes years to peel back the layers we have acquired. But you are a beautiful, vulnerable, highly gifted person underneath. And the people in your life deserve to see that.

You can learn to live in the world with your human skin – but be prepared, it’s not that much easier. You will be triggered, will lose your space, will make mistakes and offend or upset others. And that’s okay.

I’d like to propose an alternative to “thick skin,” which is this: neutrality.

When we feel and process our emotions fully, either in the moment or soon after, we reach a point where we can then respond with greater neutrality.

When we take ownership and responsibility of our own experiences, growth, emotional responses, and limitations, and recognize they are merely lenses through which we see the world, we can have more neutrality.

When we honor the experiences of others but don’t become them, heal them, or take responsibility for them ourselves, we can show up with better neutrality.

What emerges when you let yourself feel

Neutrality doesn’t mean that you’re a completely indifferent robot. It means you’re human, and you can consciously (and with intention) set aside your own homework, your own inner healing and judgments and proclivities, so that you can see more clearly.

I believe that you have this capacity. The more we all stop pretending to be something we’re not, and instead show up as who we really are, the more we can have the careers and lives that bring us joy.

Joy is what’s hidden under your thick skin. They said it would protect us, but instead it buried our joy.

Let’s reclaim it together.