Many years ago, a boyfriend of mine discovered that he could tickle me by tickling (or even pretending to tickle) his own body. When he did this, I felt the creep-crawl of tickly fingers on my own skin, and it made me shudder and squirm. Neither of us understood why.
I’ve had many other instances in my life when I could feel the touch on someone else’s skin, or the shock of pain at seeing a wound on another person’s body. But I’ve only learned in the past few years that this is a real thing that happens to some people, and it has a name: mirror touch synesthesia.
From Wikipedia:
Mirror-touch synesthesia is a rare condition which causes individuals to experience a similar sensation in the same part or opposite part of the body (such as touch) that another person feels. For example, if someone with this condition were to observe someone touching their cheek, they would feel the same sensation on their own cheek. Synesthesia, in general, is described as a condition in which a stimulus causes an individual to experience an additional sensation.[1]
There’s some research suggesting that mirror touch synesthesia is connected to sensory processing disorder and/or being on the autism spectrum. Jenara Nerenberg, author of the book Divergent Mind, argues that synesthesia in general is one form of neurodivergence, along with ADHD, sensory processing disorder, being autistic and being highly sensitive. I suspect there are a lot of overlaps among these various differences.
Mirror touch synesthesia reminds me a bit of Earthseed protagonist Lauren Olamina’s hyperempathy syndrome. When something pleasant or harmful happens to someone around here, such as a hug or a stabbing, she can feel it as though it were happening in her own body. This becomes difficult when she has to defend herself against attackers. Several critics have called Olamina’s condition "fictional” or even “delusional.” It’s not clear whether author Octavia E. Butler knew about or had experienced mirror touch synesthesia when she was writing the Earthseed books. Did she borrow the idea from real-life experiences? I wonder.
Olamina considers whether her hyperempathy is a positive or negative thing. "But if everyone could feel everyone else's pain, who would torture? Who would cause anyone unnecessary pain? I've never thought of my problem as something that might do some good before, but the way things are, I think it would help. I wish I could give it to people.”
Although I don’t enjoy unexpected touch, and mirror touch synesthesia can sometimes feel that way, it doesn’t feel like an illness or disability. Mirror touch synesthesia isn’t the only type I experience; I also occasionally have color-gustatory synesthesia, where certain colors (particularly intense colors) will also have a flavor. I’ve known a lot of synesthetes in my life and, for the most part, most of them were glad to have this additional conduit of sensation — as long as it didn’t become overwhelming. But many people go through their lives not realizing synesthesia exists, or that there are so many different kinds. Either they grow up believing everyone experiences this (and later find out they don’t), or they feel like they’re the only ones experiencing this strange sensory crossover (they aren’t).
I try to talk about this stuff year-round, but April is autism awareness month, which is one reason I’ve been blogging about sensory-related issues this month. You might also be interested in following my Instagram account for sensitive folks, @sensitiveenough.
Do you have synesthesia? What kind? Does it feel like a blessing, a hindrance, both, or something else?