Much too, much too, much too much!

That’s me; I’m “too much”.

For the past year or so I’ve had countless men tell my girlfriends or me that I’m “too much”. What the hell does that mean?

For the longest time I took it as an insult, which it was probably meant to be-insecure guys can be douchebags*. It was said as if I was the one in the wrong; I had too much personality and verve for those guys (spun with a negative connotation) and they couldn’t “handle” it and I’m ashamed to admit, tears were shed as a result**. No one likes being told that, but I’ve come to realize that the deficiency lies with them not me and it should be taken as a compliment not an insult.

I am too much for these guys. I have too much personality, spunk, sass, intelligence, talent and am definitely too sexy for them. It’s no wonder most guys that I meet or know don’t ask me out.

Now I’m not trying to be vain, I have insecurities about my attractiveness just like all girls (even hot girls need to be told they're hot). In fact for the past week I have been in a depressed mood brought about by some comments made by someone that has exaggerated (in my own mind) my own physical inadequacies. Some things I cannot change, but thanks to Leah and listening to a little AC/DC I have learned that being “too much” is a blessing. Take a look at the lyrics to “Touch too Much”:

It was one of those nights
When you turned out the lights
And everything comes into view
She was taking her time I was losing my mind
There was nothing that she wouldn't do
It wasn't the first
It wasn't the last
She knew we was making love
I was so satisfied
Deep down inside
Like a hand in a velvet glove
CHORUS: Seems like a touch, a touch too much
Seems like a touch, a touch too much
Too much for my body, too much for my brain
This kind of woman's gonna drive me insane
She's got a touch, a touch too much
She had the face of an angel
Smiling with sin
A body of Venus with arms
Dealing with danger
Stroking my skin
Let the thunder and lightning start
It wasn't the first
It wasn't the last
It wasn't that she didn't care
She wanted it hard
And wanted it fast
She liked it done medium rare
CHORUS
Seems like a touch, touch too much
You know it's much too much, much too much
I really want to feel your touch too much
Girl you know you're getting me much too much
Seems like a touch
Just a dirty little touch
I really need your touch
Cause you're much too much too much too much

I might be “too much” for most guys, but why would I want most guys? I’m blessed; someday I will find a man that can “handle” me. Can handle my personality and can keep up with my energy, can handle the stares and jealousy from other men and can handle my wit and talents instead of being insecure by them. I won’t be “too much” for him-I will be just right and because of that, he will be extraordinary.

*Julie, not the person that told you, it was said with no animosity towards me.
**Note to reader, I feel it all. You know like the Feist song, I truly do feel it all. Emotions come easy for me, and with that-crying. Now I’m not some big baby wailing at the drop of a hat, but purging your negative (or positive) feelings through tears is very cathartic. I once even cried on command in effort to create a better final for my Sign Language class. I signed “You Were Mine” by the Dixie Chicks and half way through shed those show stopping tears. It did create the added “oomph” to my performance, but also caused much concern from my teacher who thought I had been greatly scorned by some boy. Not the case, I’m just a good actress.