Being 'Too Much' Was Never Your Problem

You Were Never Too Much

Since the beginning of time (or at least since school assemblies), I’ve been told I’m too much. Too loud, too opinionated, too emotional, too sparkly for someone who wasn’t even wearing sequins. People suggested I tone it down, take up less space, maybe try being a little more beige. And I tried. Oh, I tried. The early days of this blog is testament to that. I contorted myself into quieter, smaller shapes, thinking that if I could just be a whisper instead of a whole damn song, I’d finally be loved. But plot twist: the problem was never me. The problem was a world built for whispers, not symphonies.

Sound familiar? If you’ve ever been told you’re too enthusiastic, too deep, too excitable, too anything, then welcome to the club. Membership includes spontaneous crying, passionate rants, and wild dreams that make spreadsheets weep. But here’s the thing: what if those very traits that made people squint at you in confusion are your superpowers? What if you weren’t too much – just too bright for dimly lit rooms?

The whole ‘too much’ nonsense? That’s not your weight to carry. It’s a reflection of a world that doesn’t know how to hold all that gorgeous, glittery you-ness. So let’s be clear – you’re not too much. You’re just more than some people can handle without short-circuiting.

Society’s Expectations To Dim Our Sparkle

Oh, society. That not-so-charming little voice that tells you to be confident but not intimidating, expressive but not loud, radiant but not too shiny. None of this tall-poppy-syndrome nonsense. It hands us a checklist of contradictions and expects us to perform an interpretive dance called ‘palatable womanhood’ (yeah, nah). But the truth is, the world doesn’t need more women cosplaying Barbie. It needs real people. The kind who show up with their full selves – messy, magical, and marvellously unpredictable.

From a young age, we learn to zip ourselves up in personality Spanx (Skimms?) to make others more comfortable. Don’t laugh too loud, don’t cry in public, and for heaven’s sake, don’t be the only one in the room who still believes in magic. But the cost of dimming your light? Disconnection. Exhaustion. Losing the plot of your own story.

Undoing this conditioning is a bit like unlearning the lyrics to a song you’ve been singing your whole life. Awkward at first, but eventually freeing. You begin to realise how many of your quirks were actually your charm, how many of your ‘flaws’ were just facets of your brilliance. You weren’t the problem – the expectation to be small was.

The World Needs Your Fullness

Every time someone said you were too much, what they really meant was, “Your sparkle is giving me a migraine.” And that’s okay – not everyone can handle fabulous. But their reaction isn’t your responsibility. You weren’t made to be digestible. You were made to be a feast.

The right people? They’ll never flinch when your emotions spill out like confetti. They’ll love the way your thoughts zigzag and your heart roars. They’ll match your energy or sit with you quietly while you radiate. They won’t tell you to quiet down – they’ll turn the volume up and dance with you.

Stop squeezing into places that shrink you. Stop bending for people who only love flat-pack versions of humans. You were born to be full-size, full-souled, and absolutely unforgettable. Let that be your standard from now on.

Reclaiming Your ‘Too Much’

Reclaiming yourself means swapping out your apology playlist for one titled Here I Am, Deal With It. It means letting your emotions take up space and your passions make noise. It means remembering that trying to be less won’t make you more loveable – it’ll just make you tired.

You don’t need to be understood by everyone. Some people prefer their tea lukewarm. Let them. You’re a spiced chai latte with a kick. Your job is not to be everyone’s cup. It’s your job to be your own overflowing, chaotic, steaming mug of realness.

When I stopped filtering myself through the lens of acceptability, everything changed. I found my people – the ones who loved me for my tangents, my lost cabooses, my big feelings, my laugh that could summon Cthulu himself. Your people are out there too. But they can’t find you if you’re busy hiding.

Let Yourself Take Up Space!

Taking up space doesn’t mean grabbing a megaphone and announcing your presence in the fancy cheese aisle (unless that’s your vibe). It means showing up without folding yourself in half. It means saying what you mean, loving how you love, and refusing to apologise for existing in technicolour.

Sometimes it’s as subtle as a no. Sometimes it’s a full-body yes. It’s reclaiming your right to rest, to rage, to cry during John Lewis Christmas commercials if you need to. It’s choosing to be your whole self – the loud bits, the soft bits, the chaotic brilliance in between.

There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re not too much, you’re just not beige, and that’s a good thing! The right people won’t just tolerate your sparkle, they’ll cheerlead you on while you bedazzle the whole damn room.

Self-Compassion

Some days, you’ll still feel like hiding. You’ll catch yourself wondering if you should edit your enthusiasm or water down your joy. That’s okay. You’re not broken, you’re just healing. Those doubts? They’re echoes from a world that wanted you in mute. Let them pass.

Self-compassion looks like whispering kind things to yourself when the world feels sharp. It’s giggling through your mistakes and loving your too-muchness on the days it feels like a burden. It’s giving yourself the grace to be a masterpiece and a work-in-progress all at once.

You don’t need to be fearless. You just need to be you, even in small, slightly unhinged ways. Especially in small, slightly unhinged ways.

You weren’t made to be digestible. You were made to be devoured.

Final Thoughts

If you’ve ever been told you were too much, here’s your permission slip to call that out for the nonsense it is. You are not too much. You were just never meant to be dimmed.

You are powerful. You are vibrant. You are the plot twist in an otherwise boring room. And you deserve to be loved for all of it – the tears, the tangents, the tenderness, the fire. The people who get it? They’ll get you. Completely.

So here’s your invitation: take up space. Be loud. Be messy. Be magnificent. The world is better with your full, unruly, glorious self in it.

We Need to Stop Clapping for Basic Decency – Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity

In today's episode of Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity, we're unpacking why we need to stop clapping for basic decency. You know the script. A man texts back within twenty-four hours and we're screenshotting it to the group chat. A man plans a date more than three hours in advance and we call him a unicorn. A man manages to listen, pay attention, and behave like a fully formed adult, and our nervous systems short-circuit because we genuinely don't know how to receive it.Here's the truth nobody is saying out loud. The bar has been dragged so low that Satan himself needs a chiropractor after a competitive round of limbo. We've been culturally trained to be grateful for behaviour that should not require gratitude. We've been told these things are bonuses when they're actually the entry requirement. And in the meantime, women have been quietly doing the basic decency thing forever, without applause, while men get standing ovations for outputs we generated for them.Today we're talking about why a great man is genuinely just an average woman, who benefits when the bar stays low, the invisible labour women have been performing for free for centuries, and the friend-test that cuts straight through every excuse we've ever made for mediocre men. Let's get into it.For more visit BryJaimea.com or follow over on IG @BryJaimea

If this post helped, inspired, or made you smile, you can support my work with a tea or tip over on Ko-fi. Every bit helps keep the chaos flowing.