Stop Giving People an Exit Before They've Chosen to Stay

Have you ever told someone everything about your past, only to watch them pull away?

Maybe you've called it honesty, or you've called it vulnerability.
Maybe you've convinced yourself that if they're going to leave, you'd rather know now.

But what if sharing your deepest wounds too early isn't connection?

What if it's self-protection?

In this episode of Dating on High Alert, Ilja explores the hidden difference between intimacy and intensity, why so many people with trauma, ADHD, autism, and complex life experiences find themselves oversharing too soon, and what it actually costs when we hand someone our entire story before trust has had a chance to grow.

You'll discover:

• Why oversharing is often a nervous system strategy, not a personality flaw

• The difference between signposting and flooding

• How trauma, ADHD, and autism can create the perfect conditions for premature disclosure

• Why consent matters in emotional conversations too

• The hidden link between oversharing and over-giving

• How to stop short-circuiting genuine connection

• The "Drip Feed" approach that builds intimacy without overwhelming yourself or others

Most importantly, you'll learn why your story isn't a warning label and why not everyone has earned the right to hear it yet.

Because real intimacy isn't built through urgency.

It's built through trust.

If you've ever wondered whether you're "too much," this episode is for you.

🎙️ Need support in the moment?

Explore Dear Ilja Voice Note Support:
https://iljaabbattista.co.uk

🌿 Ready to understand your patterns more deeply?

Work with Ilja:
https://iljaabbattista.co.uk

If this episode made you think of someone, please share it with them.

These conversations matter because so many people are quietly living through the same patterns, wondering if they're the only one.

And if you'd like to help keep Dating on High Alert going, there's a support button in the show notes.

Every contribution helps me continue creating honest conversations about dating, trauma, ADHD, autism, relationships, and everything in between.

Whether you share the show, leave a review, or buy me a coffee, thank you for helping this work reach the people who need it most.

Until next spiral...

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Welcome to this week's episode of The Flood and the Drip. When to share, how much, and what it costs when you get it right. Because this one is something that happened recently from real life, from a real conversation. And from sitting on the other side of something that I recognise so deeply, it stopped me in my tracks. Because I've been on both sides of it now. And somebody came into my life recently through a dating app, as these things go. And within a few days I was holding more of their story than most people who've known them for years probably know. They knew exactly what they were doing. And they even said so. And that's what made it so hard to witness because knowing you over share and being unable to stop two very different things. And perhaps you're listening to this as something and it is landing a little bit too close to home. You might be the one who floods. Or you've been on the receiving end and holding something enormous from somebody you barely knew, not sure what to even do with it. Somebody might have drifted away, or you watched a connection. Perhaps you still don't fully understand why. And if any of that resonates with you, then this episode is for you. So this is Dayty on Higher Earth. I'm Ilya Abbotis, your host. I'm not a therapist, and what I have is a brain that has spent decades trying to understand myself. And a history that has given me more material than I ever asked for. So I'm Audi HD, which is autism and ADHD combined, and I carry complex trauma. I have lived through things and I am still trying to make sense of it all. And somewhere along the way, I became genuinely deeply fascinated by how our brains are wired and how they protect us and how they sometimes protect us so hard that they get in the way of the very thing, yeah, the very things that we want the most. And that's what this um podcast is built on. And it's not theory handed down from a textbook, it's lived experience met with real curiosity about the science underneath it. And I've definitely been the one who told somebody their whole story in the first few months of getting to know them. I know exactly why I did it. And I've been on the receiving end now too, holding something enormous from somebody I barely knew, not sure what was being asked of me. Now I'm not here to tell you what to do. I'm I'm here because I've walked this road. I've taken some wrong turns for sure, and I've definitely found a way through that works for me. And I think it might help you too. And here's what I know. You want real connection, not surface-level small talk. You don't want performance, you just want real, honest, I see you connection. And you're done with the pretending. You're done with people who can't handle the truth of who you are. And at the same time, something keeps going wrong. People keep pulling back. Conversation that felt electric go quiet, and you find yourself wondering whether you said too much, or you find yourself on the other side, suddenly holding something so heavy from somebody you've only just met, and you just don't know where to put it. And underneath all of that, there might be a question that you haven't even said out loud yet. Am I too much? Is this just who I am? Can I even change any of this? And I really want to tell you something that uh I really hope that you get to hear it. You are not too much, but the strategy that your nervous system has been using to protect you that might need a second look. The external problem is is visible, you share too much too soon, and people withdraw. And the connection that you were hoping for just doesn't materialize or it starts fast and burns out just as quickly. Um, but that's not the real problem. The real problem, the internal one, is the belief underneath that behavior. Because it's not a recklessness, but it's a nervous system that has learnt through real experience that attachment is is very risky, that being truly known leads to being hurt, that people leave. And so it tries to get a little bit clever, it tries to, you know, jump ahead of the plan, of the of the plan of the pain, sorry. And then there's also this once you start developing feelings for somebody, the stakes go up considerably, and the window where it feels relatively safe to lose them starts to close. So an urgency starts to emerge. Tell them now, while it won't break you. And the logic makes complete sense when you've lived through what many of us have lived through. It kept you safe once, and the question is whether that is still serving you now. And then there's also the philosophical problem, which I still a conversation that I don't hear that is being talked about anywhere near enough. We live in a world that mistakes intensity for intimacy, that treats radical disclosure as the same thing as genuine connection. And they are definitely not the same thing. Intensity can happen in a moment. Intimacy takes time. And if you have ADHD, the filter between your thoughts and uh your words is slower, or sometimes not even there at all. The impulse fires before the break catches up. There's often a pull towards radical honesty that can feel like integrity, and in some ways it is. But integrity and timing are not the same thing. And if you're autistic, the unwritten rules around what's appropriate to share and when don't come automatically. Neurotypical people absorb these rules without being taught them. And for many autistic people, deep disclosure is connection, it's how you bond, it's how you signal trust, it's how you say, I see you, see me too. And the impulse isn't reckless, the calibration just works differently. And if you carry trauma, and in this community, so many of us do, there's something else happening entirely. When we're dysregulated, the part of the brain responsible for judgment and social calibration goes partially offline. Trauma triggered, oversharing isn't always a choice in that moment. It's the body saying that I cannot hold this alone. And when you put all three of those together, the ADHD, the autism, and the trauma, you just get a perfect storm. The impulse fires fast, the filter isn't wired the same way. And underneath it all, the nervous system is scanning for safety and not finding it. And there's something else that I uh, you know, want to mention at this point because it lives in the same neighborhood as oversharing, and again, it doesn't get talked about near enough. And some of us don't just overshare our story, we we over give our energy too. We help everybody who needs it, we drive hours for strangers, we give our very last resource, and we make ourselves indispensable. And then we wonder why the people we helped disappear when they're stable and only come back when they need something again. And this isn't a generosity problem, but the same nervous system strategy that's just wearing a different outfit. And if I make myself useful enough, needed enough, helpful enough, then you won't leave. You have a reason to keep me around that isn't just me. And just like oversharing, it attracts people who need to be rescued rather than people who want to know you. It creates relationships built on need rather than choice. And yeah, it definitely costs you emotionally every single time. Both oversharing and overgiving come from the same route. The belief that just being yourself without the story, without the help, without the offering, just isn't enough to make somebody stay. And when you share too much too early, there are real consequences for you and for them. But let's start with you first. So oversharing costs more than you realize. There's for one, there's the mental exhaustion that of that constant calculation. When is it the right time? How much is too much? Will this be the same thing that makes them leave? And then there's that vulnerability hangover, that horrible feeling after you've said more than you meant to, when you just can't take it back and you just don't know what you know what they're going to do with it. And then there's the pattern itself: flooding, watching somebody pull back, taking it as confirmation of the worst thing that you believe about yourself, and going into the next conversation with the walls, even higher, and the urge to get everything out even faster. You short circuit the possibility before it's even had a chance to be, you know, to become real. And you never find out what would have grown slowly, and somewhere that belief gets a little bit more solid. See? I knew it, just too much. They can't handle it. Now for them, and this is what I really want you to because, you know, what I actually need you to consider, you don't know who you're talking to. You have absolutely no idea what they could be carrying. And you don't know whether what you've just shared has landed in the body that has its own wounds, its own unprocessed material, its own places that haven't healed yet. And if they have no experience of trauma, they might read what you've shared as instability or it's too much for them, and they withdraw, exactly as we predicted anyway. And that has absolutely nothing to do with them being unkind, but because they just absolutely have no framework for it. They may never even tell you why they've gone quiet. But if they do have their own trauma, and in this community, that is more likely than not, something else can happen. Your disclosure can trigger theirs. It can pull them into their own unprocessed material without any warning. And that's not fair. And it can activate a form response in them, which you know, a feeling of obligation to match what you've just shared, to hold what you've handed them, to become a container because that's what they've always done for people who need them. And now you have two people, neither of them regulated, in a conversation that neither of them consciously chose to be in. And that's why consent matters here. And it's not just in the ways that we usually talk about it, but in this way too. Before you hand somebody something really heavy, they deserve the chance to know that it's coming, to check whether they have the capacity right now to choose. And something else. Sometimes oversharing is dressed up as honesty, as authenticity, as this is just who I am. And sometimes it is those things, but sometimes if we're really, really honest with ourselves, it's just armour, you know, like a form of self-sabotage with good branding, a way of confirming the story that we already believe. I'm too much. I knew it, see. And the question worth asking, and I say this with complete compassion because I've had to ask it myself, is who are you actually protecting when you share that early? And I need you to really look at that. Uh what you're choosing, if you choose to stay here, because the pattern does not change. It will keep repay, it will keep repeating or showing up in similar ways until it changes. So picture this: you're 53, you know yourself, inside out. You can name every pattern, every trigger, every reason why you do what you do, and you still can't stop. And you've had people teach you techniques, you've tried, you know the theory, but the impulse fires before the pause arrives every single time. And so that cycle continues. You meet somebody, something feels possible, and you flood them with your story, your pain, your history, your absolute everything, because it feels like honesty, because it feels like connection, because you can't bear the thought of them finding out later and then and then leaving. Because at that point it will cost you so much more, and they leave, or they pull back, or they stay, but they start to use what you gave them because you handed them ammunition before you knew whether they were actually safe. And when you finally defend yourself, somehow you're the one in the wrong, and so you help instead. You give your last resource, you drive for hours, you pour yourself into the people that need you, and when they don't need you anymore, they disappear. And some of them come back, you know, maybe even years later when they need something from you again, and you let them in again because the alternative, being alone, being unchosen, feels worse. It's the cycle of my life, somebody said to me recently. And the sadness in those words stayed with me for days. And here's what the cycle actually costs. It isn't just the connections that don't work out, it's not just the emotional exhaustion either. It costs you the evidence that something different is possible. Every loop of that cycle adds another layer to that belief. This is just how it is for me. Too much. Nobody stays. And I should be grateful for whatever I can get. And the loneliness that lives inside that belief that particular loneliness of being somebody who gives so much and is known for so little, that is a very heavy thing to carry. And you don't have to keep carrying it. So here's when I'm going to speak to you directly. Because everything I've just described, the cycle, the exhaustion, the loneliness of giving absolutely everything and being known by nobody that does not have to be your story forever. But it will keep being your story if you don't decide right now to do something different. And I do want to be very open with you about that. Um, and about what doing something different actually requires. And it doesn't require you to become a different person at all. Neither does it require you to stop being honest or open or real. Those things are gifts, and the world needs more of them, not less. But what it does require is this a pause, a moment of genuine curiosity about what is driving you, a decision to treat your story and the person you're sharing it with, with more care than fear has been allowing you to. And that's it. That's the choice. And you can keep on flooding, oversharing, you can keep giving your very last resource to the people who just disappear. You can keep confirming that belief that you're too much, that nobody stays, that that that cycle is just how it is for you. Or you can try something different. But don't do it because somebody told you to. Because the connection that you want, the real, honest, I see you connection, is actually available for you. You just have to stop short-circuiting it before it has had a chance to grow. And if right now, this very moment, you're sitting with something that's already happened, you've already sent that message, you've already said too much. Your thoughts are completely looping inside your head, and you don't know whether to say more or to go quiet. That's exactly what the dear Ilio is for. You just send me your voice note through WhatsApp right in that moment before you react, before that spiral takes over. And we slow it down together. And I help you understand what's actually happening underneath all of that noise, whether it's fear, whether it's pattern, whether it's rejection, sensitivity, or something else entirely. So you can respond from clarity instead of impulse. Because there is a difference between the real you and the reactive version of you trying to protect yourself. And the people across from you feel feel that difference too. You'll find dear illya at um illyaabatista.co.uk. Dear Ilya. The link is in the show notes. And if you want to go deeper than a, you know, that single moment, if you want to actually understand your patterns, work through what's been driving this and build something different from the ground up, then please head over to my website, iliaabatisa.co.uk, and go to the work with me page. There are several ways that we can do that together, depending on where you are and what you need. Something there will fit. And if any part of this or any part of you is ready to try something different, stay with me because I'm gonna, you know, talk about how and what you could um what you can do instead. And I want to give you something practical, you know, not a rule or a rigid timeline, just a way of thinking about it that puts you back in the driving seat. Um, I actually call it a drip feed. And the idea is very simple, you just give a little, just enough for them to get a sense of who you are beneath that surface. Definitely not the whole story, not even the chapter headings. Just a just a little drop. Something honest that doesn't cost you everything to say, and then you just wait. Not hours, but maybe just a few more weeks. Just see how they hold it, and you notice whether they lean in, ask a gentle question, or quietly change the subject. You get an inkling, not a certainty, but just an inkling of what this person might be able to receive. And if it feels okay, a little while later, you give another drop. Still not the flood though, but just enough. And this does something really important. It creates space for them to get feedback. You're not just testing whether they can handle your story, you're building something together. A shared sense of what's safe between you, what you can each hold, what the pace of this wants to be. There's a distinction I want to make that I think is one of the most useful things that I can give you. So signposting sounds like this. I have a complex history. That I'll share more of as we get to know each other. That's honest. That's fair. It gives them context without giving them the weight. It says there's more to know about me, and I trust that the right moment will come. And flooding is handing them everything at once and calling it honesty. And both can come from the same impulse. The need to be real, the to not pretend, to not waste anybody's time. But they land very differently in somebody else's body. Also, not everybody deserves to hear your story. And it's not because your story isn't worth telling. It is, and it's it's important, but it's also precious. And it's the most real thing about you. And handing it to somebody before they know whether, well, before you know whether they can hold it, before you know whether they're safe, or even whether they're honest, whether they have the emotional capacity to meet you where you are. Because that's giving something sacred to somebody who hasn't yet shown you that they deserve that. And when somebody truly loves you, when somebody is genuinely in your corner, they can carry so much more than you think. The right person at the right time, the route, the right foundation between you will not be frightened off by your history. They will lean in and they will ask questions and they will stay. But you have to give it time to find out whether this is that person. So how do you know when you're ready? I think it's less about how long you've known somebody and more about whether these things are true. Have you processed this enough that you're sharing information? Not handing somebody weight that you can't carry along? Is there enough between you that they know who you are beyond your history? And do they have context for you as a whole person, not just somebody with, you know, with a painful past? And can you share it genuinely and you know, I mean, and genuinely be okay with how they receive it without bracing for rejection, without needing them to stay. And you have to ask yourself this honesty, honestly, why now? Is this connection or is this self-sabotage? And if you can sit with those questions and feel settled, you don't have to feel certain, but you just need to be settled. That's the signal that you're looking for. Now it could be weeks, it could be months. There is no universal answer. The timing isn't the point, but the intention is. And I don't want to just leave you with ideas. Um, I want to leave you with things that you can actually do. So here's what I personally would suggest. I would find somebody that you trust to talk through, you know, to talk it through. And it can't be somebody that you're dating, really. It it needs to be somebody outside of that, a friend, a coach, you know, a therapist, if you know, of course, that is accessible to you. It needs to be somebody who can help you process what you're carrying before you bring it into a new relationship. Having somewhere safe to put the big stuff means it's less likely to come flooding out at the wrong moment with the wrong person. And ask yourself the urgent question before you share. When you really feel that pull, that urgency to get it out, to you know, tell them now, just just say it and pause just for a moment and just ask yourself, why do I feel so desperate to tell them this right now? And this is definitely not coming from a judgment, but as genuine curiosity, the answer will tell you everything about whether this is the right moment or whether your nervous system is just frightened. Look at how how they handle the smaller things first, because you're before you share your biggest chapters of your life, watch how this person shows up in those smaller moments. Are they curious about you? Do they ask any follow-up questions? And when you share something light and slightly vulnerable, do they lean in or do they deflect? And how do they handle their own difficult moments? You know, do they handle them with reflection or with blame? You're not testing them, you're getting to know them. And what you learn in those ordinary moments will tell you whether they have the capacity for the extraordinary ones. Notice whether you can communicate with each other at all. This one is absolutely fundamental. If you can't have a difficult conversation about something small, you know, whether it being a misunderstanding, a difference of opinion, a moment of hurt, then you won't be able to navigate the bigger conversation safely. Communication has to come before disclosure. And if you don't have that foundation yet, it's not a reason to give up. It's a reason to slow down and just carry on building. And remember, you get to choose who hears your story. And this is the reframe that I want you to take away from this episode. Your history is not a liability to be disclosed as quickly as possible. It's not a warning label. It's not the thing that will make people leave. It's it it's part of what made you who you are. Complex, layered, and capable of depth capable of depth of connection that most people never ever get to experience. And you get to decide who earns the right to hear it. And that decision, making it consciously from a place of choice rather than fear, is one of the most powerful things that you can do for yourself. And here's what becomes possible when you change this. You stop short-circuiting connections before they have a chance to become real. You find out what happens when you let something build slowly, when the other person gets to know you as a whole person before they know your hardest chapters. You stop giving your nervous system evidence that you're too much. Because instead of flooding and watching somebody withdraw, just drip feed and watch somebody lean in slowly, safely at a pace that works for both of you. And you start to experience the difference between intensity and intimacy. Intensity is a rush, but intimacy is the foundation. One burns bright and fast, and the other has patience. You stop overgiving to people who take and disappear. And because you slow down enough to see who someone actually is before you've handed them everything, and you start to notice the difference between people who want to know you and people who want to use you, and most importantly, you start dating from choice rather than from fear. You share when you're ready, not when your nervous system is carrying or is is trying to get the worst over with. You give your story to people who have shown you that they can handle it. And that changes everything about how it feels and what it builds. And I have to tell you, this version feels so much better. And I want to leave you with this, right? The person whose conversation started this episode and said something that has stayed with me at their age, knowing everything that they know about themselves, having tried everything that they've been taught, they still couldn't stop the pattern. And they started to believe that was just how it would always be. And I understand that feeling. I've been there, and I want to say this as clearly as I can. Knowing your pattern is not the same as being trapped in it. Awareness is the beginning, it's not the destination for sure. The gap between knowing what you do and being able to do something different, that gap is where the work is. And yes, it's definitely work, but it's also worth it. You're allowed to have a story, a complex, painful, layered, extraordinary story. And of course you are allowed to share it. The goal was never to keep yourself hidden. And the goal is to share from choice, not from fear, to share from connection, and not as hard or self-sabotage. And with enough care for the person across from you that you're thinking about what it might land in, not just what it might get off your chest. And with enough respect for yourself to know that not everybody has the right to hear it yet. You never know who you're talking to. Their body has a history too. So be kind to yourself. Be kind to them. And please drip feet. Don't overload, please. And please share this podcast. Somebody else might really need to hear this. And if you're ready to go deeper, you can find me at illyahabatista.co.uk. Or if you'd like to support the work that I do, there is a button in the show notes where you find out how. And I'd like to say, as always, until next spiral.