You're Not Too Much- You're Just Giving Depth to the Wrong People

There’s a kind of loneliness that doesn’t come from being alone—but from opening your heart and realizing no one is really there to hold it.

In this episode, we explore the pain of craving deep, meaningful connection in a world that often feels surface-level. If you’ve ever felt like people pull away when you finally show up as your real self, this conversation is for you.

You are not “too much.”
You’re just offering depth in places that don’t know how to receive it.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

There's a kind of loneliness people don't really talk about. Not the kind that comes from being alone, but the kind that comes from opening your heart and realizing no one is really there to hold it. I've been sitting with that feeling lately. The ache of wanting something deeper, something real, something with substance, and instead of finding something to hold on to, I find myself teetering, like I'm standing on the edge of something, and there's nothing steady beneath me. There was a time in my life where I felt like I belonged in this world. But somewhere along the way, that feeling faded. And now it's like I'm searching for a place or a person that feels like home. But every time I try, every time I open up, people seem to pull away. And after a while, you stop calling it coincidence. You start calling it proof. Proof that maybe you're just not someone people choose. And that thought, it sticks. Because it doesn't just sit on the surface. It sinks into how you see yourself. You start questioning your worth, your voice, your place in the world. And for me, I think that's why I turn to animals. Because they don't do that. They don't pull away when you show up with love. They don't make you feel like you're too much. They just receive you. I poured everything I had into those three little birds. Every ounce of care, every piece of my heart, they became more than just something to take care of. They became my proof. Proof that I was still capable of something good, something meaningful. Because when the world around you makes you feel like nothing, you start searching for anything that reminds you that you're not. But even with that, the loneliness doesn't fully go away. Because deep down, it's not just connection you're craving, it's human connection. The kind where someone hears your story and decides to stay. Not out of obligation, not out of convenience, but because they see you and they choose you anyway. And that's where it hurts the most. Because when you keep offering that kind of depth to people who don't know how to hold it, it starts to feel like the problem is you. Like maybe you're too emotional, too intense, too much for people. But I've been thinking about that a lot. And I don't think that's the truth. I think the truth is not everyone is capable of depth. Not everyone knows how to sit in real conversations, in uncomfortable emotions, in honesty that doesn't come with filters. So when you show up like that, fully open, fully real, it doesn't invite everyone in. Sometimes it exposes them. And not everyone is ready for that. So they pull back. And from where you're standing, it feels like rejection. But what if it isn't? What if it's not that you're too much, but that you're offering something they were never equipped to receive? That doesn't make you unworthy. It just means you've been giving something rare to people who don't recognize its value. And if you do that long enough, you start to forget that it has value at all. But it does. Your ability to care deeply, to show up fully, to love without holding back. That's not something to shrink. That's something to protect. Because not everyone deserves access to that part of you. Connection like that, real connection, it isn't built in a single moment. It's built slowly, in consistency, in trust, in small moments that prove someone is safe to open up to. And maybe that's where things need to change. Not in who you are, but in who you allow to see you. Because the right people, they won't run from your depth. They might not understand all of it right away, but they'll stay long enough to try. And until those people show up, it's okay to hold your story a little closer. It's okay to stop handing your heart to people who haven't shown you they know how to care for it. You are not too much. You are not unworthy. You are someone who has been offering something real in a world that often settles for less. And one day, that depth won't feel like something you have to prove. It will feel like something that's finally been received. And if you needed to hear this today, I hope you remember. Just because someone couldn't hold your story doesn't mean it wasn't worth telling.