By Joanne Ostler

She suggested meeting for coffee, to get to know each other and talk about life, work, and things.

We met and it was lovely. She was thoughtful, curious, and, it seemed, genuinely interested in me and my work. We were newly acquainted, I was flattered, and I was looking to expand my network.

The conversation flowed, and I offered ideas, tools, contacts, whatever seemed useful. She was newly out on her own, and though I had only a few years under my belt at that time, I understood how that felt.

We met a couple more times.

She had an idea for an event to help her get off the ground, and I was happy to talk it through, even though the event and the topic were not quite my niche. We were enjoying our catch-ups, or so I thought.

But it changed.

Through messages, she began talking about how to market the event. How to find people to come.

I did not take the hint. Or perhaps I did, but I did not yet understand what it meant. 

Then came the direct ask, during a phone call one day: “Could I invite my network?”

There was an awkward pause. I felt my face redden, my breath quicken, and my system begin to flood. I managed to say that I was not comfortable with that.

She was not happy. Her temper flared, which startled me even more. I did not understand what was happening.

That was the last conversation we had.

SPS is real and can be an asset in supportive environments, fostering connection, creativity, and learning (Aron & Aron, 1997; Greven et al., 2019; Pluess, 2015). Yet the capacities that help sensitive people notice subtleties, read a room, and stay curious and open can also carry relational risk. They can make our care, openness, and willingness to contribute visible, and sometimes easier for others to draw upon.

By good faith, I mean honesty, respect, genuine interest, and a basic orientation toward mutuality. Good faith is not the problem. The trap is assuming that everyone else shares it. 

That does not mean walking around expecting disappointment or manipulation. Good faith is not binary: a person may be generous in one context and self-protective or self-interested in another. 

Even so, there is value in questioning our hidden assumptions: the beliefs beneath awareness that shape how we interpret others and what we expect in return. I assumed that if I showed up generously and openly, something would flow back, professionally or personally. And even if not, I expected the relationship to remain pleasant and respectful. 

What we may mistake for mutual good faith

Part of why this happens may lie in how HSPs are wired. SPS is a temperamental trait involving heightened sensitivity to environmental information, including sensory and social cues. It is associated with deeper processing of stimuli and stronger responsiveness to both supportive and adverse environments (Aron & Aron, 1997; Greven et al., 2019).

Many HSPs recognise a pull toward curiosity, care, harmony, and perspective-taking in their own lives. Research on SPS points toward related patterns of empathy, openness, and responsiveness to emotionally meaningful social information, though HSPs are not all the same (Acevedo et al., 2014; Greven et al., 2019; Bröhl et al., 2022).

For HSPs whose style includes strong care, openness, and reflection, similar signals in others can look like evidence of good faith, even when they mean something different.

I might think: I would not offer this much care unless I meant it. So, I assume a base level of the same in my friend.

But that is my projection, and perhaps my self-protection too. It is not necessarily what another person is experiencing, intending, or able to offer.

Research on reciprocity suggests that people vary in the strength of their personal norms around returning care, support, and generosity (Perugini et al., 2003). Social interaction also involves tension between reciprocity and self-interest: people may value fairness while still choosing convenience, comfort, or personal goals (Greco et al., 2024).

Much everyday care is conditional: people may be generous while still letting context, cost, or personal goals shape what they give.  

This does not make people bad. It means that warmth, interest, or appreciation should not automatically be treated as evidence of equal investment.

People also engage in impression management: consciously or unconsciously shaping the impressions that others form of them (Leary & Kowalski, 1990). Someone may present as caring, generous, curious, competent, or vulnerable for many reasons. That presentation may be sincere, strategic, or a mixture of both. Its meaning becomes clearer through patterns of behaviour over time.

For some HSPs, this may create a particular vulnerability. We may interpret expressed interest as proof of deeper mutuality, extend trust or care readily, and only slowly recognise that the relationship is more strategic, one-sided, or limited than we had assumed. 

That is the pattern I am calling the good-faith trap.

You may be thinking that some of these dynamics resemble experiences often discussed in relation to narcissism or emotionally manipulative relationships. Those are important topics, but they require more care than this article can give them. Here, I am trying to shine a light on these patterns more broadly, and with an open mind.

Why a mismatch can feel harder for HSPs

Environmental sensitivity also feeds into the equation. High sensitivity is not simply about noticing more; it is also about being more affected by what is noticed. The environmental-sensitivity framework proposes that some people are more affected by stressful, conflictual, or chaotic environments, and benefit more from supportive ones (Greven et al., 2019; Lionetti et al., 2018; Pluess, 2015).

In a reciprocal relationship, sensitivity can support connection, depth, creativity, and care. In a tense, ambiguous, or one-sided relationship, the same sensitivity can make mismatch feel exhausting and disorienting.

When relational tension feels difficult to bear, we may try to regain safety through more explanation, empathy, or accommodation. These are not bad strategies. They may have developed for very good reasons, often outside conscious awareness, and sometimes in earlier relationships or environments where maintaining connection, reducing threat, or keeping the peace felt necessary.

I do not want to shame, discard, or override these responses in any way. These strategies make perfect sense. They may still serve us in some contexts, and we may choose to keep them. What I am offering is simply a compassionate lens through which to understand them. And, where there is enough safety and choice, to pause long enough to ask whether the other person is also invested in genuine and mutual repair.

The trap, then, is not only cognitive: I assumed they cared. It can also be deeply embodied.

A developmental lens

Adult-development theory offers one further lens. Robert Kegan (1994) proposed that adults differ in their capacity to reflect on their own assumptions, hold competing perspectives, and make meaning amid complexity.

This is not about intelligence, moral worth, or whether someone is good or bad. It recognises that people differ in their capacity to notice blind spots, own contradictory motives, tolerate discomfort, and hold another’s perspective. It also recognises that these capacities can continue developing across a lifetime, often unevenly and in different areas of life. 

That matters for HSPs because we may overestimate others’ willingness or ability to reflect. We may assume that, if we explain ourselves carefully enough, the other person will become curious about their impact, recognise complexity, and meet us somewhere in the middle. Sometimes they will. Sometimes they will not.

The developmental lens does not excuse harm. Nor does it mean we accept conduct that is disrespectful, exploitative, or unsafe. It simply helps us stop treating relational mismatch as evidence that we are “too much,” that we have failed to explain ourselves properly, or that another attempt at understanding will necessarily create mutuality.

Instead, we could ask a different question: What kind of mutuality is possible here, given what this person consistently shows me?

Seeing more clearly

Once you see these patterns, they can be hard to unsee. 

One useful shift can be relatively small, but incredibly powerful. Pause before deciding what another person’s intentions are, either way. Stay curious rather than certain. Let time and behaviour reveal the shape of the relationship.

Notice what is actually being offered, not only what is being asked for. Effort is not always evidence of connection. 

Notice whether interest is sustained when you have little to give. Notice whether care moves in both directions. Notice how someone responds when you say no. Notice whether they take responsibility for their own discomfort, or hand it to you to manage. 

Then ask yourself what you want to offer in return.

The turning point comes when we realise that no amount of over-explaining, empathy, or assumed good faith can guarantee a mutually satisfying relationship. That does not mean others are inherently bad. It may simply mean that the relationship is different from what we assumed. Keeping our eyes open is part of how we protect our capacity for good faith.

References

Acevedo, B. P., Aron, E. N., Aron, A., Sangster, M.-D., Collins, N., & Brown, L. L. (2014). The highly sensitive brain: An fMRI study of sensory processing sensitivity and response to others’ emotions. Brain and Behavior, 4(4), 580–594. https://doi.org/10.1002/brb3.242

Aron, E. N., & Aron, A. (1997). Sensory-processing sensitivity and its relation to introversion and emotionality. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 73(2), 345–368. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.73.2.345

Bröhl, A. S., Van Leeuwen, K., Pluess, M., De Fruyt, F., Bastin, M., Weyn, S., Goossens, L., & Bijttebier, P. (2022). First look at the five-factor model personality facet associations with sensory processing sensitivity. Current Psychology, 41(8), 5034–5047. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12144-020-00998-5

Greco, C., Esposito, A., Cordasco, G., & Matarazzo, O. (2024). Reciprocity versus self-interest in a competitive interaction context: An experimental study. Psychological Reports, 127(2), 827–850. https://doi.org/10.1177/00332941221129137

Greven, C. U., Lionetti, F., Booth, C., Aron, E. N., Fox, E., Schendan, H. E., Pluess, M., Bruining, H., Acevedo, B., Bijttebier, P., & Homberg, J. R. (2019). Sensory processing sensitivity in the context of environmental sensitivity: A critical review and development of research agenda. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews, 98, 287–305. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neubiorev.2019.01.009

Kegan, R. (1994). In over our heads: The mental demands of modern life. Harvard University Press.

Leary, M. R., & Kowalski, R. M. (1990). Impression management: A literature review and two-component model. Psychological Bulletin, 107(1), 34–47. https://doi.org/10.1037/0033-2909.107.1.34

Lionetti, F., Aron, A., Aron, E. N., Burns, G. L., Jagiellowicz, J., & Pluess, M. (2018). Dandelions, tulips and orchids: Evidence for the existence of low-sensitive, medium-sensitive and high-sensitive individuals. Translational Psychiatry, 8, Article 24. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41398-017-0090-6

Perugini, M., Gallucci, M., Presaghi, F., & Ercolani, A. P. (2003). The personal norm of reciprocity. European Journal of Personality, 17(4), 251–283. https://doi.org/10.1002/per.474

Pluess, M. (2015). Individual differences in environmental sensitivity. Child Development Perspectives, 9(3), 138–143. https://doi.org/10.1111/cdep.12120

About the author

Joanne Ostler is a PCC coach supporting highly sensitive people through burnout, complex transitions, relationships, leadership, careers, and meaningful living. Her approach integrates trauma-informed, evidence-aware coaching with adult-development perspectives and a deep respect for sensitivity as a human strength. Learn more at joanneostler.com.