I got told today that I was too much, too intense and required too much effort to be friends with. I nearly gave the guy a big F you but what I actually did was thank him for his honesty, leave, and cry on my friend’s shoulder.
I cried because sometimes, when someone inadvertently stabs at a wound, we question whether we should hold our head up high and be exactly who we are, no apologies….or look deep within ourselves to see if we’re triggered because they’re right, and we really are what they say.
I cried because I have been told many times, in many ways, that I am too much.
And then I cried because I realised that I had handled the situation less than gracefully, and less than I might have wanted.
Instead of being true to myself and speaking out about how I was feeling, I shrunk away and became uncomfortable in my own skin. I made myself small to make someone else feel more comfortable, and in the process, they felt my energy and determined I was too much effort to be friends with.
Being anything less than 100% yourself is a lose lose situation. It makes others just as uncomfortable as you are.
I learned such a valuable lesson today. I learned that, even though I knew it already, I could no longer suffocate myself for the sake of someone else. It just suffocates all of us.
I am a lot. I am intense with a big presence and I talk a lot about feelings and sometimes I get triggered and uncomfortable and it’s ok if that’s too much for some, but from now on, I will respect the other as well as myself by honouring myself, and letting them go the moment we feel it.
And for more inspiration….here’s the words I read which prompted me to speak out today….
“There she is. . . the “too much” woman. The one who loves too hard, feels too deeply, asks too often, desires too much.
There she is taking up too much space, with her laughter, her curves, her honesty, her sexuality. Her presence is as tall as a tree, as wide as a mountain. Her energy occupies every crevice of the room. Too much space she takes.
She is dangerous.
And there she goes, that “too much” woman, making people think too much, feel too much, swoon too much. She with her authentic prose and a self-assuredness in the way she carries herself. She with her belly laughs and her insatiable appetite and her proneness to fiery passion. All eyes on her, thinking she’s hot shit.
Oh, that “too much” woman. . . too loud, too vibrant, too honest, too emotional, too smart, too intense, too pretty, too difficult, too sensitive, too wild, too intimidating, too successful, too fat, too strong, too political, too joyous, too needy—too much.
She should simmer down a bit, be taken down a couple notches. Someone should put her back in a more respectable place. Someone should tell her.
Here I am. . . a Too Much Woman, with my too-tender heart and my too-much emotions.
A hedonist, feminist, pleasure seeker, empath. I want a lot—justice, sincerity, spaciousness, ease, intimacy, actualization, respect, to be seen, to be understood, your undivided attention, and all of your promises to be kept.
I’ve been called high maintenance because I want what I want, and intimidating because of the space I occupy. I’ve been called selfish because I am self-loving. I’ve been called a witch because I know how to heal myself.
And still. . . I rise. Still, I want and feel and ask and risk and take up space.
Us Too Much Women have been facing extermination for centuries—we are so afraid of her, terrified of her big presence, of the way she commands respect and wields the truth of her feelings. We’ve been trying to stifle the Too Much Woman for ions—in our sisters, in our wives, in our daughters. And even now, even today, we shame the Too Much Woman for her bigness, for her wanting, for her passionate nature.
And still. . . she thrives.
In my own world and before my very eyes, I am witnessing the reclamation and rising up of the Too Much Woman. That Too Much Woman is also known to some as Wild Woman or the Divine Feminine. In any case, she is me, she is you, and she is loving that she’s finally, finally getting some airtime.
If you’ve ever been called “too much,” or “overly emotional,” or “bitchy,” or “stuck up,” you are likely a Too Much Woman.
And if you are. . . I implore you to embrace all that you are—all of your depth, all of your vastness; to not hold yourself in, and to never abandon yourself, your bigness, your radiance.
Forget everything you’ve heard—your too much-ness is a gift; oh yes, one that can heal, incite, liberate, and cut straight to the heart of things.
Do not be afraid of this gift, and let no one shy you away from it. Your too much-ness is magic, is medicine. It can change the world.
So please, Too Much Woman: Ask. Seek. Desire. Expand. Move. Feel. Be.
Make your waves, fan your flames, give us chills.
We need you.” Ev’Yan Witney