Dear Woman: You Were Never Too Much. He Just Wasn't Enough.

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Everything he claimed was too much for him is what makes you who you are.

Oh, you.

You're just... too much.

Too loud.

Too determined to be heard.

Too direct.

You ask too many questions.

You tell too much inconvenient truth.

You take up too much space.

You're too unapologetically you.

You're too passionate.

You're too emotional.

You're too sensitive.

You listen to everything I say, not just the things I want you to hear.

Your laughter is always the biggest thing in the room.

Your tears make me feel too inadequate.

Your heart makes me feel too inadequate.

You're just... too much.

***

Is that what he told you? Is that why you folded in on yourself, a complicated origami of clipped wings and skin so thin a breath could tear through it?

Is that why you won't laugh with your mouth wide open anymore? Why you can't stand the sound of your own joy?


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Is he the reason you built boulders up into walls around your heart, planted thorns all around the border, so nothing could get into, and nothing could escape from, the softest, sweetest part of you?

Is it what he said that convinced you to stitch your voice up along the seams of your throat, a whisper the only way you have left to communicate? Did the earnest way he cut your emotional legs out from underneath you leave you with a permanent limp?

Is it the ghost of his words that haunt you on the nights you can't sleep, hanging just over your shoulder, insisting you listen, not letting you see just how transparent they are in case you catch on?

Was it after he said what he did that you started searching in the mirror for all the ways you could make yourself smaller — thighs, nose, spirit, soul?

Was it his lies that persuaded you to stop telling your truth? To lock it up tight behind your lips and only nod in agreement when asked anything at all?

Were these the things he told you to try to justify why he was so afraid of how bright your light is?

Because he lied. You were never too much. He was never enough.


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So shrug off his bullsh*t, friend, and stand up straighter. He made chains from his insecurities and wrapped them around you, but the key has been on your tongue all this time. Spit it out and set yourself free from the weight of his words.

Your heart is exactly the size it should be.

Your passion is perfectly proportioned.

The space you take up is better for you being in it.

Asking questions is the only way to learn anything at all.

Part of being brave is telling the truth even when it isn't wanted.

Your tears are how you refresh your spirit.

Do you see how this works? Everything he claimed was too much for him is what makes you who you are, and who you are is someone worthy of love. Unconditional love, not love that comes with caveats, not caring that comes attached to a laundry list of ways to dim your shine.

Flip the tables on his falsehoods. Rewrite the script. Drag his words from the darkest parts of you, kicking and screaming, and shove them into the sunlight of your smile.

Watch them go up in smoke and dance in the ashes.

 

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