Content Note:
This story includes a brief mention of a suicide attempt. Please read with care.
I’ve always been a sensitive person.
From a young age, I felt things deeply—words, emotions, energy. I didn’t have the thick skin others seemed to develop and for a long time, I thought that meant something was wrong with me. I often felt hurt, misunderstood and alone. That internal struggle sometimes showed up in ways I’m not proud of, pushing people away instead of letting them in.
As I moved into my late teens and early twenties, those feelings followed me. I didn’t yet have the tools or clarity to understand what I was experiencing, so I coped in unproductive ways. Over time, I became isolated, ashamed and disconnected—from others and from myself.
Eventually, I reached a breaking point and attempted to take my own life.
That moment was my lowest but it was also the moment everything changed.
Lying in the hospital afterward, I realized something that stopped me in my tracks: I didn’t actually want to die. I wanted relief from the pain I was carrying. I wanted clarity. I wanted things to feel different, even if I didn’t know how yet. I also couldn’t stop thinking about how many people feel this way and never get the chance to find another path.
Recovery wasn’t instant or easy, but it was intentional. I began rebuilding my life slowly through self-reflection, spiritual practice and learning how to care for myself in ways I never had before. Step by step, I started to understand that my sensitivity wasn’t a weakness. It was a signal. A guide. A strength.
What once overwhelmed me became the very thing that helped me connect, listen and see more clearly.
Today, I use my experiences not as something that defines me, but as something that informs my work. I help people who feel stuck, overwhelmed or disconnected, find clarity, alignment and a way forward that feels true to who they are.
We all have a calling.
Mine is helping others find clarity when life feels heavy and confusing by reminding them they don’t have to navigate it alone.
If I can do it, so can you.
— Wayne Looney
Find Your Way 