You were never “too much.” They simply brought measuring tapes designed by cowards.
Being told you’re too much is the socially acceptable way of saying, ‘I lack the bandwidth for depth, intensity, or anything that might force me to evolve.
But it still stings.
Too loud.
Too sensitive.
Too opinionated.
Too emotional.
Too intense.
Too honest.
Too alive.
As if your soul should’ve come with a dimmer switch.
As if your light was a fire hazard.
As if your joy needed a permit, your grief a warning label, your truth a translator.
But let’s be clear about one thing:
You weren’t too much.
They were under-equipped.
They brought rulers carved from repression, measuring tapes stitched with generational shame and institutionalized obedience.
They mistook volume for vanity.
Vulnerability for instability.
They weren’t measuring you.
They were just terrified you’d make them feel something real.
The Myth of “Too Muchness”
Being “too much” was never your flaw.
It was their threshold.
They were taught to fear what they couldn’t manage, especially in women.
Especially in artists.
Especially in people who love too hard, speak too loudly, cry too openly, or laugh like they don’t owe the room an apology.
You didn’t intimidate them.
You illuminated them.
You showed them where they were starving.
And they hated you for it.
Not because you were wrong—
but because you made them look.
People who don’t understand fire will always try to put it out
before they learn how to sit beside it.
What If the Problem Was Their Ruler, Not Your Radius?
Here’s a wild thought:
What if you were never here to fit inside the lines?
What if you were never designed for calibration, categorization, or compliance?
What if the whole point was to take up the space you were taught to fear?
You weren’t meant to be palatable.
You were meant to be true.
You were told your softness made you weak.
It didn’t. It made you trustworthy.
You were told your rage made you unhinged.
It didn’t. It made you holy.
You were told your tears made you unstable.
They didn’t. They made you fluent in truth.
You were told to shrink.
But shrinkage is not a virtue.
It’s a survival tactic, and you, my dear, are done surviving.
From Wound to Wisdom
If you’ve been called too much,
you’re probably the person others go to when their world collapses.
When the mask cracks.
When the silence gets too loud.
You’re the one who remembers things.
Who listens beneath the words.
Who still believes that brokenness isn’t a flaw—
it’s an opening.
So here you are.
Still alive.
Still too much.
Still not backing down.
You’re not too much.
You’re the whole damn truth in a world built on polite lies.
This is your reminder:
You are not a problem to be managed.
You are a pattern-breaker. A map-burner. A walking permission slip.
If someone calls you “too much,”
hand them a smaller plate.
You're not shrinking for anyone this year.
🔥 Feel like this was written in your bones?
Good. That’s how you know you’re home.
Come sit with the rest of us over at www.chaoticgoodisms.com—
the ones who got tired of being measured by broken rulers
and decided to build an entirely new system.
Come as you are. Stay as your whole self. Loudly.
We’ve been waiting for you.
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