I’ve noticed that when people say someone is “too much,” what they usually mean is: You’re making me uncomfortable by having needs, feelings, or limits.
That message lands early for a lot of us. So early that we don’t even question it. We just adapt.
We get quieter. More agreeable. Better at explaining ourselves. Better at holding things together. Better at making sure everyone else is okay before we even check in with ourselves.
And eventually, we start believing the problem is us.
But I don’t actually think most people are “too much.”
I think they’re just carrying too much.
When Being “Fine” Is a Survival Strategy
Trauma doesn’t always look like chaos or dysfunction. Sometimes it looks like being very good at functioning.
Very calm in a crisis.
Very responsible.
Very aware of other people’s moods.
Very careful with words.
You learn to anticipate. To smooth things over. To manage the emotional temperature of a room without anyone asking you to.
From the outside, it can look like strength.
From the inside, it often feels like constant vigilance.
When surviving has required you to stay regulated for everyone else, “being fine” stops being a feeling and starts being a role.
The Kind of Exhaustion That Doesn’t Go Away With Sleep
A lot of people are tired.
But there’s a specific kind of tired that comes from always being the container.
The one who:
- Thinks things through for everyone
- Holds the emotional weight of situations
- Notices problems before they’re named
- Absorbs stress so others don’t have to
That kind of exhaustion doesn’t disappear with rest, because it’s not physical.
It’s relational.
It’s the fatigue of being over-relied upon.
And no one was meant to do that indefinitely.
Why Boundaries Feel So Hard
If you learned early on that other people’s emotions were your responsibility, boundaries can feel wrong.
Not just uncomfortable—wrong.
Like you’re being selfish. Or cold. Or cruel.
But boundaries aren’t punishments. They’re not ultimatums. They’re not about controlling other people.
They’re about deciding what you can realistically carry without disappearing in the process.
You are allowed to have limits—even if other people don’t like them.
Especially if other people don’t like them.
What If You Don’t Have to Carry Everything?
Here’s something I’m still learning myself:
Not everything is mine to hold.
Not every problem needs my attention.
Not every feeling needs my containment.
Not every situation needs my fixing.
Sometimes the most compassionate thing you can do—for yourself and for others—is to let things be awkward, unresolved, or imperfect.
Healing isn’t about becoming tougher.
It’s about letting yourself be supported instead of constantly self-abandoning.
A Quiet Truth
You don’t need to be smaller.
You don’t need to be easier.
You don’t need to justify your existence.
If you feel like “too much,” it might be because you’ve been doing too much for too long.
And it’s okay to start setting some of that weight down.
