’There she is. . . the “too much” woman. The one who loves too hard, feels too deeply, asks too often, desires too much.
There she is taking up too much space, with her laughter, her curves, her honesty, her sexuality. Her presence is as tall as a tree, as wide as a mountain. Her energy occupies every crevice of the room. Too much space she takes.
There she is causing a ruckus with her persistent wanting, too much wanting. She desires a lot, wants everything—too much happiness, too much alone time, too much pleasure. She’ll go through brimstone, murky river, and hellfire to get it. She’ll risk all to quell the longings of her heart and body. This makes her dangerous.
She is dangerous.’’
Hey, you looking at me?! Am I too much for you? Do I speak too loudly for you? Do I dress too loud? Do I take up too much space? Am I not being the perfect sister, daughter, employee? Am I not being the perfect woman? The one who looks a certain way and behaves impeccably?
What happens when it all crumbles away? The looks, the mask that we hide behind? When the triggers of trauma and collective pain rear their heads, can we keep denying it and suppressing it? No, I don’t think so. As I stand up and let myself be seen, warts and all, I know I do so in the hopes that my nieces and nephews, never ever feel too much. Then I know my job is done.
I thought I had got over this feeling of ‘feeling too much.’ Recently I was brain dumping my fears out. I wrote ‘I feared what X thought of me, was I too much?’. Oh dear, what did I just write?! Worse still, I actually meant it. No No No No No! I genuinely thought this was long healed.
This fear has sort of followed me, like a shadow. It has caused me to play small. The times when I have stood up and let myself be seen, has had a backlash of vulnerability. Or as Brene Brown calls it a ‘vulnerability hangover.’ I have really put myself out there, in 2021. With people, conversations, writing and I do feel proud of myself. Honestly, I do! I do feel like this feeling too much, has been quietly lingering in the background. I would have thought pushing myself out of my comfort zone would have finally got rid of it.
Here’s the thing I realised. This feeling runs deep. It’s more than just my feeling. It’s collective, it’s generations deep, it’s a cultural trauma. When the farmers protest happened in India in 2020, it highlighted many feelings that had been suppressed collectively. It also crossed my mind, all the trauma Sikh people had gone through over the years.
Let’s take that back further as lots of people worldwide have felt this. The quiet unspoken way women just know to behave a certain way, to fit in, to play small, to mold to others. Women belonging first to their family then to their husband and his family. This belonging to others but never to yourself.
I think of the women in my family, moving to a different country in the hopes of a better future then molding to society, to fit in, be safe. All with the background of racism and that you don’t belong. All this trauma being suppressed, emotions getting buried, fear of speaking up, of rocking the boat, the desire to be safe and to be hidden.
Often growing up I heard that girls don’t do certain things or that I was too loud, too sharp, too angry, too clumsy. In reality, I was a passionate, feisty young girl who needed a creative outlet. I was not too much for anyone. Some things are in our bones, right? Like collective trauma and a feeling of too much, passing down unknowingly from one generation to another.
How to stop this? By one person saying no, not on my watch. I break this cycle. I hope I am. I hope I do enough work on myself to be an example to my nieces and nephews. I hope they never feel too much and that who they are, is just perfect. They are safe to become themselves and express themselves. I hope I hold that space for them. Really, isn’t that what we all need? Space to be held, be seen for who we really are and loved unconditionally. Warts and all.
If you are wondering, but Amerdeep how do I actually break these cycles myself? Well, I am still doing it. My way has been to enlist the help of professionals, having a support team and like-minded people who are walking a similar path to mine. I read lots and immerse myself in different practises to hold space for myself such as breathwork, Qi Gong, walking and being creative.
A fantastic book is Women who Run with Wolves by Clarissa Pinkes Estoles. Also, self-awareness is key. So if we have got this far, we deserve a huge pat on the back. Being aware of anything is the first step. The biggest actually!
We are not too much and never have been. I am sure there are men that feel this too. In healing our personal beliefs and breaking generational patterns, helps us all. Healing oneself has a domino effect on those around you, especially children who learn from all we do.
* I would highly recommend googling this piece. It is beautiful and powerful, and a lot more to it then what I could include. Also i know i've used the term Woman. However this piece is dedicated to all as this feeling is something i think we can all feel.
#toomuch #emotions #feelingtoomuch #womenwhorunwithwolves #The Too Much Woman #Ev’Yan Whitney #selfawarenessiskey #collectivetrauma #traunaandfeelings #traumaandemotions #trauma #breakingcycles #beingyourself #beingauthenticallyyou #paintingtheworldwithyourtoomuchness #standupandbeseen #brenebrownvulnerabilityhangover #amerdeep #youretoomuch #areyoutoomuch #embracingyourtoomuchness