Someone once told me I was “too much.” Truthfully, I’ve heard variations of that all my life.

Pushing through the pressure to agree, stay quiet, or “not make things difficult,” I earned labels like sassy, too bold, opinionated, even weird—all for simply having questions and convictions.

In high school, I was “weird” for asking a teacher why Columbus was credited with “discovering” a land where millions already lived. Later, in a nonprofit board meeting, I quoted our mission statement while we debated closing a program that served people experiencing poverty—and was told they “didn’t need” to hear it. At home, I was expected to laugh along when an uncle teased a nephew for “running like a girl.”

Over time, the message was clear:

Too vocal.
Too questioning.
Too passionate about what made other people uncomfortable.

So I did what so many of us do—
I turned down the volume on myself.
Made myself smaller.
Softer.
More palatable.
And slowly, I disappeared.

The Quiet Moment I Reclaimed My Authentic Voice

The shift wasn’t dramatic. It was quiet.

I was rereading an unpublished newsletter column I’d written years earlier—before I learned to shrink—and I barely recognized the voice. It was alive. Unfiltered. Unapologetically itself.

My CEO liked that column so much that he published a version under his name, using my ideas without attribution and taking over my column for that month. I’d tucked the original into a forgotten file. Revisiting it all those years later sparked something in me. I respected that writer. I missed her.

It wasn’t the only moment of restoration, but it straightened my spine and loosened my tongue.

That voice knew things.
Researched and reexamined her conclusions.
Believed in her abilities and original ideas.
Wrote and spoke from her values.

And I realized: being “too much” was never the problem.
The problem was a power structure that preferred I stay quiet—or at least hidden, trotted out when my visibility served those in charge.

🔥

What “Too Much” Really Means About Your Authentic Voice

Here’s what I know now about authentic voice as an employee, an educator, and a writer:

→ When you’re told you’re “too much,” you’re often brushing against someone’s comfort—or someone’s control.
→ Your wild voice—the unedited one—is where your deepest wisdom lives.
→ The world doesn’t need one more dimmed-down, agreeable version of your best self.

Authenticity isn’t about being loud for the sake of noise. It doesn’t mean you never listen. It means you refuse to edit your truth to keep others comfortable. It means being fierce with empathy—speaking what matters while staying fully human.

This journey toward reclaiming my own authentic voice is what ultimately shaped my upcoming memoir. It’s complete now, and soon I’ll begin the search for the right agent and publisher to bring it into the world. It’s a vulnerable, exhilarating part of the writing life, and I’m grateful to share that process openly with those walking their own path toward courage and truth.

Your authentic voice?
The one you’ve been told is “too much”?
That’s exactly the voice someone needs to hear today—if you are safe to share it.
Is your workplace, home, or community safe enough to hear the truth you’re carrying?

Tell Me

When were you first told you were “too much”—and what part of your authentic voice did you silence because of it?

Journaling Prompts to Help You Reclaim Your Authentic Voice

If this essay stirred something in you, here are a few gentle prompts to help you listen for the parts of your voice that were muted, minimized, or misunderstood. Use them without pressure—just follow what rises.

1. The Moment You Dimmed Your Light
Write about a time you made yourself smaller to avoid conflict, judgment, or discomfort.
What did you hold back? What stayed unsaid? How did it feel in your body?

2. The Voice You Miss
Describe a version of yourself who spoke freely—before shrinking became a habit.
What was she able to say? What did she believe? What part of her do you want back?

3. A Truth You’re Ready to Tell
What’s one thing you know—deeply—that deserves to be spoken aloud?
Where might you begin safely? With whom?

4. A Promise to Yourself
Finish this sentence:
“Going forward, I will no longer shrink when…”      

Explore more Journaling Exercises.