To Any Woman Who Ever Thought (or Was Told) That She Was “Too Much”
To Any Woman Who Ever Thought (or Was Told) That She Was “Too Much”
Nature's reminder to embrace the spectrum of our identities
“Look deep into nature and then you will understand everything better.” –Einstein
In a world where women are often told they are either too much or too little, we find ourselves walking a delicate tightrope, striving to become a perfect in-between.
Throughout most of my life, I've felt like I was too much for men. Perhaps it got reinforced by the statements that were shared with me by those I dated:
“I wish I was ready to be with someone like you... It’s a lot.”
“You’re my dream girl, but this is too much for me.”
“I’m not going to be able to keep up with you.”
Most of the men I’ve dated have had some type of girlfriend blueprint in mind, and my personality seems to go beyond their ideal specs. It’s like there’s a blank paint by numbers canvas for qualities in an “ideal partner,” but I bring more colors than there are numbers available to fit.
When it comes to romantic relationships, we oftentimes mute a lot the qualities that we feel won’t be accepted by others, the ones that feel a bit too much. Especially when the sentiment has been reinforced. In my case, I’d only show romantic partners certain parts of myself, the parts that I thought they wanted to see, versus the traits that were within me.
In psychology, this is called “emotional self-concealment,” and it involves the act of hiding or withholding aspects of our thoughts, feelings or traits from a partner, typically due to a fear of how they might react or perceive these characteristics. This often happens when people are afraid that their truth might be rejected, criticized, or viewed negatively. Other times, there’s a desire to maintain a certain image in the eyes of our partner. Emotional self-concealment can also be a result of wanting to avoid conflict or discomfort.
Over the past few years, as I’ve been diving into my inner work, I’ve learned to not only appreciate the different aspects of my being, but to openly share them with those around me. I no longer want to conceal important parts of myself, for fear that they might be rejected or not align with someone’s blueprint. More on this, in another post.
Though I’ve learned to share more of myself with those around me, I’ve continued to carry an internal story that who I am, and my spectrum of thoughts, emotions, and personality traits won’t be appreciated by a romantic partner. This narrative says something like this: I’m too much. And someone won’t be able to handle all of it.
A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to spend a week in the Austrian Alps with a group of like-minded men and women. This little part of the world looked just how I’d pictured it — outfitted with rolling green hills, dense forests, and little wooden chalets. It was our personal Sound of Music backdrop.
The retreat celebrated time offline (aside from the film and iPhone photos I took, I stuck to this protocol). We focused on connecting to the Earth and its elements, opening our senses to admire the beauty surrounding us, and becoming quiet enough that big questions could surface. Many hours were spent with the elements: hiking through forests, bathing in the alpine lake, watching the sun inch its way over the horizon, and feeling the crispness of the wind against our faces.
Decelerating in nature reminded me of the spectrum of characteristics that Earth encompasses. Not only are there multiple elements (Earth, Wind, Fire, Water, and some schools of thought also include Space), but these elements also bring about different, oftentimes contradictory experiences. For instance, Earth has volcanos that are fiery, lakes that are placid, and hurricanes that change decision at a moment’s notice. Sometimes there’s a free-flow, like the river, and other times there’s a more approximate schedule, like the moon and her phases.
Being in the elements can serve as a reminder of the dynamic nature of Earth— the range of elements and contradictions that are present within each one of us.
We can be intellectual and laugh at stupid jokes; logical and grounded and also spiritual and woo-woo. We can appreciate taking care of our homes and cooking meals for friends and love creating beautiful businesses. We can be empathetic and kind and angry and resentful; emotional and even-keeled.
Whenever I go back to the story of, “I’m too much,” Earth reminds me that she, too, is a lot of things. And those things are never too much. We celebrate the Earth and her elements. We want the diversity of experiences she brings us, because we know that they all ultimately contribute in different, meaningful ways. It’s time I fully appreciate the spectrum of elements within myself, as well.
We’re all complex, contradictory, and don’t fit particular molds. We’re navigating life's symphony in bodies that adapt to a dance of contradictions. I’m learning to hold space for the range of characteristics that I embody, respecting the polarities that exist in me.
I have a new story on loop these days. It goes something like this: “Yes, I’m a lot. And that’s a wonderful thing.”
Whenever I question this simple truth, I go outside and spend time in nature. I’m reminded how beautiful and pure, and oftentimes messy and chaotic she is. Her own characteristics are mirrored in me, in each of us. How beautiful is that?
