Loud. Flirtatious. Fancy. Assertive. Bossy. Crazy. Angry. Bold. Sensitive. Noisy. Clumsy. Provocative. Flighty. Dreamy. Curious.
[Insert adjective of your choice here]
Why, oh why, does “You’re too…” invariably precede another word that’s less than flattering? Why does the person saying it to you feel the need to even utter the words in the first place?
I have been told too many times to count that I am too “something.” Loud is usually the word. Long ago, when I was interviewing for the make-or-break job of my 21st year on the planet, the coveted role of a Resident Assistant during my college days, the interviewer asked me what one word would I use to describe myself. Loud was the first and only word to come to mind. If there’s anyone in a room that will be heard, it’s me. Frankly, I am pretty proud of that fact. I have a laugh that booms and turns heads. Sometimes that laugh is met with nods and smiles, sometimes it is met with an eye roll or two. I notice. Don’t we all notice?
In addition to “loud,” the rest of the words above have also been uttered to me with a fair amount of frequency. I am too fancy apparently, because I like good hair spray and getting my nails done. Too bossy because I happen to enjoy my work as a project manager. (Yo, that’s what I do for a LIVING.) Too angry when I reach the breaking point we women seem to hit after being pushed around and taken advantage of REPEATEDLY. Too sensitive when I am pushed to the point of tears… again. And the old fall back that small-minded men seem to go with, usually when they are in the wrong… “you’re too crazy.”
So, again, the question I must ask at this point is “why?” Not why does the person feel that way, because frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass.
The real question is why the hell say it in the first place? What’s the damn point? If the point is to try to get me to be LESS loud/sexy/flirty/bossy, you’ve pretty much guaranteed that I am going to do the exact opposite when you say that I am “too much.” You don’t like the way I look/act/talk/conduct myself? Get in line with the rest of these bitches over there that think I am “too” much. In the meantime, I’m going to entertain the rest of the people that think I am a damn good time. You’re just going to be left feeling a little like a fool.
As a woman of a certain age, I have reached the point where I have heard this too many damn times to ignore it and I certainly will not apologize for it anymore. In my 20’s and perhaps even in my 30’s, I may have lacked the assertiveness and confidence to tell the person to, well, go fuck themselves and may have laughed it off. No more. You tell me I am too loud? You’re going to get treated to a very loud, very throaty laugh. I’m going to then proceed to take that shit to 11. You better know what the hell I’m talking about when I say I am going to take it to 11. If not, we definitely cannot be friends. Kidding. Just Google it, honey.
Side bar… do you know how much I love a good pop culture reference? Almost as much as drinking a cold beer on a hot summer night on a patio. Or a good looking man in a uniform. Or a trip to the salon. Or singing at the top of my lungs in the car. In other words, a lot. Someday, when I am old and addled, all that’s going to be left in my noggin is pop culture references and Duran Duran song lyrics.
So today, we flip the script. See the positive. Who’s with me on this? Let’s have some fun with this and turn it around. Remind the world that you are indeed “too.” I am too. Too smart, too beautiful, too funny, too sexy. I am too much for people who think small and dream small and live small. So buckle up people; stop trying to put me in a box of your own limited imagination. You’re going to be sorely disappointed if you think your opinion is going to change my behavior in any way.
Keep on resisting, ladies!