Sorry For Being Too Much.
I’m learning to embrace all the parts of me.
Before I begin, I want to make one thing clear: if there’s anything you take from this, it’s that you are never ‘too much.’ No matter what anyone tells you, you are enough—no less, no more. Your presence, your feelings, and your voice are valid, and you deserve to be seen and heard for who you truly are.
That being said, I’ve had my own struggles with feeling like I wasn’t enough… or perhaps, I was too much. A few years ago, a close friend of mine told me that she “felt like she was walking on eggshells around me.” She said it in a fit of anger, and those words have stayed with me ever since. It stung even more because she knew how deeply I feared being “too much.” She had comforted me whenever I voiced those fears, only for her to slap me in the face with those words. It made me question our friendship for a long time, and although we’re still friends now, I can never fully trust her again. I highly doubt she remembers saying it, but those words are forever ingrained in my mind.
There was also a time in one of my old friendship groups when I realized they purposefully blocked me from seeing their stories, so I wouldn’t find out they’d all met up without me. The only reason I found out was because they forgot to block my spam account. That moment took me back to when I was a young girl, feeling once again like I didn’t belong. K, one of them, later apologized and said they didn’t mean to make me upset. I would’ve been sad had they gone out without me, but I wouldn’t have minded too much if they’d just been honest. What hurt even more was the fact that they felt the need to hide it from me.
The same group did it again another time. We usually walked into town together after school, but this day, two of them walked ahead of me and H (another friend). I didn’t think much of it because I was talking with H, but then she told me her dad was meeting her, and she had to go. This was unusual, so I tried to ask her about it, but she brushed me off. By the time I noticed, the others had already walked off. Later, I found out H had lied to me, and they’d walked away on purpose so I wouldn’t follow. It felt like they just didn’t want me with them. I ended up walking around town by myself, then went home. I still remember that day clearly, and as I write this, tears well up in my eyes.
I never understood why I was being excluded, nor why they had to lie. It would’ve hurt far less if they’d just told me the truth. But it left me wondering, what did I do wrong? Was I too much? I had plenty of friends back then, but these incidents made me question myself. It made me feel insecure, as if maybe others saw me the same way. Were people pretending to enjoy my company? Did they really want to be friends with me? Were there conversations I wasn’t part of?
For a long time, I craved validation. I wanted to know what people thought of me so I could adjust, dial down my personality, and stop being “too much.” But that desire to fit in eventually made me lose sight of who I really was. Sometimes, I wonder if I even know who I truly am anymore.
I can be a loud person. I tend to talk fast and want to get everything out. I often relate to others by sharing my own experiences, but I worry that it may come across as me making everything about me. The truth is, I only want to show I’m listening by connecting on a deeper level. But maybe it’s misunderstood. Maybe people think I’m too much when that’s never my intention.
I’ve been told I’m “too much” by both family and friends. It stings even more when it’s from family. There are times when I’m excited to share something, and someone tells me to “calm down. In that moment, all the energy and joy drains out of me. I shrink. I go quiet. I curl back into myself.
I know they’re not being malicious. They probably don’t even realize the weight of their words. But it hurts all the same.
All of this has made me question whether or not I actually fit in. I’ve always thought of myself as extroverted, but now I think I may have just come across as obnoxious the whole time. As I’ve grown older, I tend to second-guess myself even more. I’m constantly analyzing my words and actions, wondering if I’m being too much or too little, if I’m too loud or too quiet. It’s exhausting. But what I’ve come to realize is that fitting in isn’t about molding myself into something I’m not. It’s about finding people who accept me, as I am—loud or quiet, enthusiastic or calm, imperfectly human.
But then there’s my best friend. She’s the one person who has shown me what it truly means to be loved for who I am, without reservations. She never thinks I’m too much, even when I’m talking a mile a minute or sharing every detail of my thoughts. In her presence, I don’t have to shrink or second-guess myself. She embraces my loudness, my quirks, and my sometimes messy emotions with open arms. With her, I’ve learned that real friendship isn’t about fitting into some mold—it’s about accepting each other’s full selves, no matter how big or small, loud or quiet.
In the end, I’ve learned that the people who truly matter will love me for all that I am, and I don’t need to change for anyone. If you’re struggling with feeling ‘too much,’ I hope you find your own circle of love and acceptance, where you can be unapologetically yourself.
Thank you for reading the tides between 🌊 !! I don’t have much to say about this because I feel like everything has already been said, but you are enough :) This newsletter is currently free, however please consider subscribing or buying me a bubble tea. I would really appreciate it 🫶🏼
I relate to this. But in my case, I wonder if I'm too quiet and might come across as boring to some people who would rather hang out with people who are louder. But I can be more open and talkative when given the chance. My voice is just drowned out in groups where people are too wrapped in their conversations to give me a chance to speak.
this is so relatable, but it takes strength to share. i'm proud of you 💗