Ever felt like you were too loud for some rooms, too quiet for others? Like you're always teetering between being overwhelming and underwhelming?. Yeah - me too.
There's this invisible tug-of-war I've lived in for as long as I can remember.
Sometimes I talk too much, feel too deeply, care too intensely. Other times I go silent because I think maybe I've taken too much space already. And in that silence, I hate myself for not speaking up, for disappearing when I really wanted to be seen.
It's the fear of overwhelming others with all that I am, while also fearing I don't bring or contribute enough. Like being too loud and invisible at the same time.
On one side, the fear of being "too much" - too emotional, too opinionated, too intense. On the other, the fear of not being "enough" - not interesting enough, not smart enough, not lovable enough, not good enough to stay.
It's a weird space to live in.
Sometimes I open up and wonder if I've said too much, if I shared too much. Other times I hold back and feel like I've said nothing and contributed nothing at all. And both leave me questioning myself.
I shrink myself sometimes.
Talk softer. Feel smaller. Smile when I don't feel like smiling. Other times, I pour out everything - every thought, every feeling - just to sit later in the aftermath, wondering if I came across as "too intense".
It's exhausting - constantly shape-shifting (if I can call it that), never knowing where you truly stand in someone's life or in your own skin, adjusting yourself based on who's around, hoping this version will finally be one that's "just right". But deep down, the thought still lingers: What if no version is ever enough?
This internal battle shows up in the smallest ways. I replay conversations in my head. Overthink texts. Apologize when I shouldn't. Try to read between the lines of silence, thinking I've crossed one somehow. Sometimes, hide what I consider the best parts of myself, thinking it'll be easier that way.
It's like no matter how much I give, it feels like too much. And yet... somehow still not enough.
I didn't create these thoughts alone. it came from moments - big and small - that taught me love could be withdrawn if I was too messy, too honest, too real. It came from silent treatments when I spoke too much. From being told I was "too sensitive" for simply feeling.
This feeling doesn't grow out of nowhere. It's watered by people who made us feel like our feelings were "too heavy". By people who made us feel like our emotions were "too dramatic", our silence was "cold", our truth was "too heavy", or our presence wasn't "light" enough. By relationships where we were either "too clingy" or "too distant". By spaces that made us feel like our presence was a burden, or worse -- unnoticed.
And so, you stay stuck. Caught between trying to be palatable and wanting to be fully known.
I start believing it. I start thinking maybe I am too much, and I carry that thought everywhere I go, wearing it like invisible armor.
And so I keep shifting. Trying to find the version of myself that will finally feel "just right". But that version never really comes, does it?
Here's what I'm slowly learning though:
The right people won't make you feel like you have to shrink or stretch just to be accepted. You won't have to overthink each word. You won't feel like a burden for simply being yourself. Like you're some burden to manage. They won't treat your depth like a flaw. You won't have to shrink or break yourself down into bite-sized, easy-to-digest pieces just to be loved.
Somewhere out there, there are people who will meet your full self without flinching. People who will be grateful you didn't water yourself down. People who will hear your silence and your noise - and stay for both.
And maybe you've been "just right" all along. Maybe, you're already exactly what someone else is hoping to find - flaws, fire, and all.
Tell me... have you ever felt this way too?
IMAGE WAS GENERATED USING META AI
