“Girl… you are just too much!” I’ve been told that many times in my life. There were times when it was said with great amusement, and there are also times when it was not. No matter the emotion behind it, over the years I have come to understand that there are varying degrees of “much”, and that all of those degrees are what make me who I am – my “muchness” if you will.

I can be loud and energetic in a way that will make your head spin – like a colony of squirrels on crystal meth… not that I know what that looks like because I just feed them peanuts.

When I am very amused, my laugh comes from the deepest part of my core, and it puts Julia Roberts to shame. That joyful noise fuels my soul… and it could likely wake someone from a long term coma. See photo below.

I feel things very deeply. I have been accused of being “too sensitive” countless times over the years, dating back to when I was a very little girl. I used to try to buck up and grow that thicker skin that everyone used to talk about. Guess what… that didn’t work for me, and I choose to feel all of the things. Do I wish that the hurtful things didn’t affect me as much as they did? Yep. But they do. And I know that is what it means to be human. I’d rather be a sensitive, empathetic soul than a cold hearted bitch any day of the week.

Lest anybody think I eat valium like tic tacs to stay calm, yes there are also days where I am just plain pissy. Nothing seems to be going well, I’m pretty much over it all before it even begins. If you are clueless enough to poke me when I am in this mood, then you should be prepared for me to blow quicker than Mt. Vesuvius. Congratulations, you may pick up the deed to your plot in Pompeii on your way out.

Some days, especially since perimenopause arrived (more about that in another post), I feel like I am all over the map. ALL. OVER. THE. MAP. Not necessarily crabby like you always hear about, but it feels like every emotion is cranked up about twenty notches. For someone who already feels things deeply, this being amplified can be a tiring thing to manage. I should probably also thank my husband for not divorcing me… yet… he might be a saint.

Could I or should I perhaps tone it down a bit? Maybe. Am I going to? No. Changing my muchness would change who I am – a loving wife, caring dog/cat mom, loyal and protective friend, generous bonus mom (I don’t like the term “step”), fun aunt, hard working entrepreneur, and so much more. That, and I like who I am. It took me many years to realize that what others may see as a weakness or as “less than” was not accurate or true. I have embraced my muchness. Whether you choose to or not is entirely up to you.