By all accounts, I am “too much.”
Complicated, as a dear friend has often called me. Too driven, too intense, too feeling. Too wild, too free, too deep. Unable, if not incapable of, settling into the ways of being most people expect or desire.
I am too much.
I am complicated.
I am intense.
I am someone who many people do not want all parts of (I know this, because they’ve told me). What makes me who I am is not fully desired or welcome in relationships and spaces of all kinds. Because it’s triggering and different and chock full of emotion. It’s uncomfortable and consistently challenging to all that is familiar and known.
It has taken years, but I can finally say to you with my whole heart: I’m at peace with my too-muchness, and I hope that you are too.
The problem isn’t that we’re too much, friends… but rather, that we decided to agree with the ones who said it as if it was bad and wrong. We decide to give those people and their opinions more weight than they deserve, rather than responding with, “yes, and?”
Of course you and I are too much. That too-muchness is all things necessary to being who we’re here to be and doing the work we’re here to do. It is needed right now in a way that we’re only just beginning to understand and appreciate.
My too-muchness is my gift, just the same as yours. And I, for one, will never allow someone to throw it in my face as if it’s bad or wrong again. Maybe it’s unwanted or unwelcome, and that’s okay. It’s simply not for them. But I will never be less than who I am for the sake of someone else’s comfort again. Not ever.
I hope you won’t either.