Doing too much…

“Doing Too Much”

I remember the first time someone told me I was “doing too much.”

At the time, I genuinely didn’t understand what they meant.

Too much what?

Too much caring?
Too much excitement?
Too many ideas?
Too much effort?
Too much imagination?

I understand the phrase now. I know people usually mean someone is being excessive, extra, overwhelming, intense, complicated, emotional, or trying too hard.

But I’ve also realized something important:

I think “doing too much” is just part of who I am.

I don’t really know how to approach life halfway. I don’t naturally move toward minimalism or simplicity or “just enough.” I like options. Layers. Tools. Possibility. Texture. Meaning. I like environments that feel alive and immersive. I like creating experiences, not just completing tasks.

When I care about something, I tend to build entire ecosystems around it.

A project becomes a vision.
A room becomes an atmosphere.
A conversation becomes a doorway.
Healing becomes art, ritual, connection, story, movement, memory, community.

I don’t think in straight lines very often. I think in webs.

And honestly, I think that intensity is part of my charm.

Not because it’s always easy. It absolutely isn’t. Sometimes “doing too much” turns into overextending myself. Sometimes it means carrying worlds I was never meant to carry alone. Sometimes it comes from survival, hypervigilance, or feeling like I have to create safety through preparedness and possibility.

But other times?

It’s creativity.
It’s devotion.
It’s imagination.
It’s love.

I think there’s a difference between performative excess and genuine abundance.

I’m not interested in “more” because I want to impress people. I’m interested in depth. Richness. Aliveness. I want things to mean something. I want people to feel something. I want spaces to hold people fully.

I think a lot of us were taught that being “too much” was something embarrassing. Something we should shrink, soften, minimize, or apologize for.

But maybe some of us were never built to be small.

Maybe some of us are meant to create, feel, imagine, build, dream, and love in large ways.

And maybe learning discernment is important. Maybe sustainability matters. Maybe rest matters too.

But I no longer think my expansiveness is automatically a flaw.

I think it’s part of my magic.

Does this resonate with anyone else?