Too Much for Who?

I have learned that “too much” is rarely about volume.

It’s about comfort—specifically, someone else’s comfort with your existence.

When people say a woman is “too much,” they usually mean she has not made herself small enough to fit inside the narrow silhouette they have drawn for her. She laughs too loudly. She dresses too boldly. She speaks with too much certainty. She loves herself in ways that leave no vacancy for their control.

And so, “too much” becomes a warning label—one meant to make you second-guess your power. To sand down the edges of your brilliance so you can be placed neatly on the shelf of someone else’s comfort zone.

But comfort has never changed the world.
Comfort has never spoken the hard truth.
Comfort has never built anything worth keeping.

So I ask again: Too much for who?

If my voice is “too much,” may it echo until it rattles the windows of complacency.
If my ambition is “too much,” may it blaze a trail so bright that others can find their way in the dark.
If my joy is “too much,” may it spill into every empty cup I encounter.

Because the truth is, I am not too much.

There are simply not enough.

And here’s what I know: the moment you stop apologizing for your presence, you stop living for their permission. You stop negotiating the terms of your existence. You start showing up as the full, unedited version of yourself—and that is the version the world actually needs.

There will always be people who find your fullness inconvenient. People who will try to hand you their discomfort as if it is your responsibility to carry. But it is not your weight to bear.

You were not born to make yourself smaller so others can feel bigger. You were not created to dim your light so theirs can shine unobstructed. You were not sent here to take up “just enough” space to keep the peace.

You were meant to take up your space—fully, deeply, and without apology.

And if that makes you “too much,” wear it like an honor badge. Let it remind you that your presence, your passion, your laughter, your certainty, and your love for yourself are acts of quiet rebellion in a world that still asks women to be less.

Too much for who?
For the ones who prefer women muted. For the ones who fear what they cannot control. For the ones who do not know what to do with a woman who refuses to be folded into their comfort zone.

And if that’s the case, let me be far, far too much.