Learning to Live at Full Volume

For a long time, I carried the quiet belief that I was too much. Too expressive. Too emotional. Too excited. Too intense. Too curious. Too sensitive. Too honest. Too joyful. ETC. I didn’t always have language for it in adolescence, but I can remember a familiar tightening in my chest when I felt myself light up or take up space, followed by the instinct to dial it down or make myself more palatable. To be less… me. As I’ve gotten older (and maybe a little braver), I’ve realized something freeing: I probably was too much for some people, and that doesn’t mean there was ever anything wrong with me.

To be perfectly clear, this is not about being obnoxious. I’m not advocating for disregard, entitlement, or moving through the world without care. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, unsafe, or unseen. I believe deeply in relational responsibility, which doesn’t mean taking up all the air in the room. Full expression means being in integrity with yourself while remaining in relationship with others.

One of the most important distinctions I’ve learned is that someone else’s discomfort is not always a signal that you’ve done something wrong. Sometimes it’s just good information. Your joy may highlight places where someone else feels constrained. Your confidence may activate someone else’s self-doubt. Your freedom may press against someone else’s unexamined rules. That doesn’t make them bad people. It also doesn’t mean you need to become smaller. What it does mean is that not everyone knows how to make room for that level of aliveness! I should probably name here that this is all very closely tied to people pleasing (I say this as a recovering people pleaser myself). I could write an entire post (or several) about that, but for now, it feels important to say that full expression and people pleasing rarely coexist peacefully.

Through a mix of paying attention, maturing, and getting a degree or two in psychology-related fields, something became really clear to me. There ARE people who don’t just tolerate my fullest expression, they love me harder when I’m in it. They feel energized, not threatened, by my aliveness. They don’t need me to dim so they can shine. With these people, there is a sense of ease. Not because I’m perfect (none of us are, obviously), but because I’m not performing. And those relationships feel spacious, mutual, and grounding in a way that no amount of self-editing ever did.

There is a quiet grief in accepting that you will not be for everyone, but there is also enormous relief! When you stop trying to be digestible to everyone, you become recognizable to the people who are actually meant to find you. Your fullest expression is the BEST filter.

So instead of asking myself: Will this make everyone comfortable? I try to ask: Is this aligned with who I want to be? Aka did I show up with care? Did I act in alignment with my values? Did I stay connected to myself while staying respectful of others? If the answer is yes, I can usually tolerate someone else’s disapproval without turning it inward.

If this resonates, you’re not alone. And if it doesn’t,this piece might not be for you.