I Used to Think I Was 'Too Much.' Then I Realized I Was Just in the Wrong Room.
I recently came out of a relationship that didn't work out. And I've been sitting with something that feels important enough to say out loud:
I didn't just lose someone. I found myself.
Not in a cliché way. In a very specific, very real way. Let me explain.
The Old Pattern
For most of my life, vulnerability terrified me. Not because I didn't feel deeply—I've always felt deeply—but because every time I let myself be seen, something went wrong. Cheated on. Lied to. Left.
So I built a system: hold it in, shut down, don't ask for too much, and whatever you do—don't let them see you need anything.
It kept me safe. It also kept me alone, even when I wasn't.
What Changed
This relationship broke the pattern. Not because it was perfect—it wasn't. But because I made a different choice.
When my nervous system flared up and every instinct told me to pull away, to hide, to protect myself... I didn't.
I took a breath. And then I said the thing I'd never been able to say before:
"I'm really struggling with trust right now. I need your help. Maybe that just looks like extra reassurance for a little while."
That's it. That was the moment.
I asked for what I needed. Out loud. To another person. Without performing strength or pretending I was fine.
And my whole system shifted.
The Unlock
Here's what I discovered: vulnerability doesn't make you weak. It makes you powerful—because you're no longer controlled by the fear of being seen.
In this relationship, I let myself:
- Be affectionate without apologizing for it
- Ask questions because I was genuinely curious
- Express my emotions fully, even when it felt like "too much"
- Stay present when things got uncertain instead of running
And yes—my partner called me dramatic. Said I was doing too much. That I was too expressive.
You know what? I love that about myself.
I love that I care enough to communicate. I love that I ask questions. I love that I want to understand how my partner experiences the world. That's not a flaw. That's my gift.
The Reframe
The relationship ended. He wasn't able to hold space for the version of me that was finally showing up. And that hurt.
But here's what I've landed on:
It's not that what I'm doing is wrong. It's where I'm placing it.
My emotional depth isn't the problem. I was just depositing it into an account that couldn't hold the volume.
The right person? They're going to celebrate this. They're going to meet my expression with curiosity instead of resistance. They're going to feel lucky that I care enough to show up fully.
What I Want You to Know
If you've ever been told you're too much—too emotional, too intense, too expressive, too anything—I want you to hear this:
Don't shrink.
Your depth is not a liability. It's a language. And the right people will be fluent in it.
The unlock you're chasing isn't about becoming less. It's about finding environments that can nurture what you already are.
When you do? Watch how it grows. Watch how it heals you. Watch how it gives other people permission to be fully themselves too.
The Part I Almost Forgot
I almost didn't give myself credit for how I showed up in this relationship. I was so focused on the ending that I nearly missed the miracle in the middle:
My heart healed. My voice unlocked. My nervous system expanded.
Even in uncertainty, I showed up for myself. Even when I was afraid, I decided I still deserved love.
That's not a failed relationship. That's a successful experiment.
The people in your future will be honored to meet the creative, expressive, "dramatic" version of you. And they will celebrate it. I believe that now.
I hope you will too.
— Malik