Reclaiming 'Too Much': How Our Greatest Liabilities Are Our Strengths
Tonight, Lorde’s Liability played on a loop in my mind, stirring memories of a chapter I thought I'd closed. Her haunting lyrics echo a truth many of us know too well: being "too much" for someone else. It brought me back to the attorney—polished, driven, and meticulous—who sat across from me one evening, his words calculated yet trembling. “You’re a distraction,” he said. “I can’t focus on my work with you around.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d been cast as the “too much” woman—the siren pulling men from their ships. My presence, my power, my love, was overwhelming, an inconvenience they couldn’t carry. For years, I wore those moments like a scarlet letter, but Lorde’s words tonight remind me: being “too much” for someone else isn’t a flaw—it’s a call to stand even taller in who we are.
Writing Cherry Pie was my reckoning with that truth. I poured my heart onto every page, crafting a memoir that was raw, honest, and unflinching. But as I neared the finish line, the weight of my own liability became clear. How do you tell your truth without tipping into harm? Editing felt like walking a tightrope, balancing honesty and grace, vulnerability and self-preservation. Each word begged the question: Am I too much?
As women, we are taught to shrink. To make ourselves palatable. To carry the burdens of others while shelving our own needs. Yet what Liability taught me—and what writing my book cemented—is that our power, our presence, and even our messiness are what make us extraordinary.
If we are “too much” for someone, it’s not our job to lessen ourselves; it’s their responsibility to grow. The attorney couldn’t see past his own limitations, and in hindsight, his words weren’t a condemnation of me—they were a confession of his inability to meet me where I stood.
To the woman reading this who has ever been called “too emotional,” “too intense,” or “too much,” let me tell you this: You are not a liability. You are a force. Let your strength challenge the world around you. Let your passion ignite the lives of those brave enough to stand beside you.
Our liabilities, as we see them, are often our greatest strengths in disguise. They are the cracks where the light gets in, the fractures that let us transform. So play Liability on repeat. Cry if you must. But let the tears nourish the seeds of your own self-worth. Because being too much isn’t a weakness—it’s a revolution.
If you haven’t heard Liability by Lorde, I invite you to listen to it—really listen. Let the melody and the lyrics stir something deep within you, as it did for me. Let it remind you that being "too much" is never a flaw but a mark of authenticity, courage, and fire. And if this resonates with you, I’d love to hear your story. What does being a "liability" mean in your life? How have you turned it into a strength or struggled to embrace it? Share your journey with me—I believe in the power of connection and shared vulnerability to transform our collective understanding of what it means to be unapologetically ourselves.
