For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt things deeply. Whether it was sadness, worry, or a subtle tension in a room, I’d pick up on it. For a long time, I’ve put it down to being emotionally intelligent. But recently, I’ve realised it’s something deeper. I am officially entering my ’empath’ era.

What is Emotional Intelligence?

I’ve known for a long time that I have a high level of emotional intelligence, especially when it comes to self-awareness.

If you’re unfamiliar with the term, here’s how the Oxford Dictionary defines it:

The capacity to be aware of, control, and express one’s emotions, and to handle interpersonal relationships judiciously and empathetically.

I can’t pinpoint exactly when I became aware of this in myself – it feels like something that’s grown over time.

As much as I pride myself on having emotional intelligence, it can also be exhausting. People seem to naturally open up to me, and it’s taken (and still takes) a lot of work to manage my boundaries so that I don’t get pulled under by other people’s emotions.

My First Encounter with the Term ‘Empath’

You’re probably thinking, ‘That’s all well and good, but what about the empath stuff?

Bear with me, it’s coming.

The first time I heard the word empath was during a conversation with my reiki healer, Emma. We met back in 2023 when I went to my first Soundbath. After chatting for a while, we discovered we lived on neighbouring streets. I could practically see her house from my garden! I’d been looking for a reiki healer for a while, and it turned out she was one. It felt very much a case of being in the right place at the right time.

During our first session, Emma mentioned being an empath and casually referred to me as one too. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I don’t think I really understood what it meant, and I was probably too polite (or awkward) to ask.

Feeling Too Much

There have been so many times in my life when I’ve had a strong gut feeling about something. It’s almost like a sixth sense. When something’s off, I usually sense it, even if I can’t explain why (and don’t worry, it doesn’t mean I can read minds!).

At the start of this year, I found myself surrounded by other people’s grief. One of my clients, someone I really admire, suddenly lost her dad. Just days later, a close friend lost hers too. Although I’d only met one of the dads briefly and never met the other, I was overcome with sadness.

I never want to assume I know how someone feels, especially when the grief isn’t mine. But the emotional weight I carried during those weeks was overwhelming. And that’s when I started to question it: why was I feeling so deeply, when technically, this wasn’t my loss?

Grief in the Air

While I was still processing that sadness, I noticed something shift in my flat. The energy felt heavy. I started to feel disconnected from my usual grounding rituals. There’s a particular spot in my flat where, when I place my feet flat on the floor, I feel rooted – like invisible roots are anchoring me to the earth. But it had stopped working. And I hadn’t even realised it was gone.

A couple of weeks ago, I found out that my upstairs neighbour had passed away. I didn’t know him well, but we always said hello, and when you hear someone’s footsteps every day, you start to feel a kind of unspoken connection. After he passed, there was a lot of movement in his flat. I often heard furniture being shifted. It sounded like his husband was processing grief in the only way he could, by having a clear-out and re-arranging stuff. But the energy in my own flat became increasingly unsettled.

Looking back, I think that shift had been building since the start of the year.

A Surge of Energy and a Realisation

Then, last week, something changed. I sat down at my desk, and all of a sudden, I felt my feet plant firmly into the ground. The surge of energy was so intense, it made me feel emotional.

For the first time in weeks, maybe months, I felt grounded again.

At that moment, I had a flashback to my sessions with Emma. I recalled Emma referring to me as an empath. I even had a free guide Emma had created on how to cope with being an empath.And I remembered all the times I’d brushed off being an empath.

But now, it made sense.

So what is an Empath?

Being an empath often overlaps with emotional intelligence, but not always. Emotional intelligence involves managing your own emotions and responding to others with empathy.

Being an empath goes a step further. It’s like feeling other people’s emotions in your own body.

On the Healthline website, there’s a great article called “15 Signs You Might Be an Empath”. A few of the headline signs include:

• You feel emotions deeply—even if they’re not your own
• People often confide in you
• You’re highly intuitive
• You need regular time alone to recharge
• You’re sensitive to noise, smells, or bright lights
• You don’t like conflict and prefer harmony
• You often feel overwhelmed in crowded or emotionally intense spaces
• You have a hard time setting boundaries

When I read that list, it was like reading a description of myself. Things I had always felt but never had a name for.

Learning how to work with being an Empath

So here I am, realising I’m not just emotionally intelligent, I’m also an empath. I’m still working through everything this year has brought up for me, and I’m curious to explore the energy surge I experienced when I felt grounded again. It was so powerful, and I’d love to understand it better.

For now, I’m gently exploring what it means to live as an empath. How to protect my energy, how to use this sensitivity in a way that serves me and others, and how to believe that this is a superpower and not a burden.

I’m not quite there yet. But I’m on my way.