Too much

A story of learning that being too much is actually a good thing

You know that song, “it’s so easy to fall in love” by Olivia Dean? Yeah, I wanted to be that girl. Easy to love. Effortless. Soft. Light.

Instead, I became a lot.

Too loud. Too quiet. Too emotional. Too detached. Too soft. Too hard. Too much.

Always too much…

Pick a version. I’ve been accused of all of them.

So naturally, I did what any self-aware, slightly unhinged, healing woman would do. I started shrinking. Dimming my light. Watering myself down like I was a strong drink people couldn’t handle.

And for what?

To stay in spaces that were already choking me? To be loved by people who only liked me in pieces?

I stayed in a marriage that slowly convinced me love was supposed to hurt quietly. Smiled through emotional abuse like it was something to be grateful for. Grieved a loss that rewired me forever, carrying love for someone I never even got to meet.

And then, because the universe clearly thought I needed character development, I kept dating people who never actually chose me.

Oh, you like me? Cool. Do you respect me, choose me, show up for me?

Silence.

Exactly.

So yeah, of course I thought I was the problem. Like maybe if I was a little less intense, a little less aware, a little less me, things would finally stick.

But here’s the plot twist:

I was never too much. I was just over-giving to people who were under-capable.

Read that again.

I had to unlearn the habit of overextending myself just to feel chosen. Had to evict the inner critic that was living rent-free in my head. Had to stop romanticizing bare minimum behavior like it was love.

And listen… I still have days where I’m like, …am I a lot?

Because I am. I feel deeply. I love loudly. I notice everything. I carry stories, grief, softness, fire…

All of it.

But the difference now?

I’m not asking anyone to make me smaller anymore.

The right people? They don’t get overwhelmed by your depth. They match it. They hold you when it’s heavy. They hype you when you forget who you are. They don’t make you question your worth every five business days.

They choose you. Consistently. Clearly. Loudly.

So no, I’m not too much.

I’m just not for people who lack capacity.

And honestly? That sounds like a them problem.

I’m not too much.

I’m just enough, with a little sparkle, a little chaos, and with all the audacity to take up space.