“You’re being dramatic.”
“Why do you have to make everything so complicated?”
“Can’t you just be normal for once?”
If these phrases hit a nerve, you might be one of the millions who grew up being told you were “too much.”
Too loud, too sensitive, too intense, and too everything.
I spent years thinking I’d outgrown those childhood criticisms.
Then, after a particularly brutal breakup, I found myself in therapy unpacking why every relationship felt like I was walking on eggshells.
Turns out, I’d become an expert at apologizing for my own existence without even realizing it.
The thing about being labeled “too much” as a kid is that it morphs into subtle behaviors that seep into every interaction, every relationship, and every connection you try to make.
You think you’ve moved on, but your nervous system remembers.
Here are eight behaviors that people who were constantly criticized for being “too much” often display in their adult relationships, usually without any awareness they’re still trying to make themselves smaller:
1) Over-explaining every emotion or decision
Ever catch yourself writing a novel-length text to explain why you’re feeling upset about something minor? Or spending twenty minutes justifying why you chose one restaurant over another?
This constant need to provide context, evidence, and a full dissertation for every feeling or choice comes from years of having your reactions questioned.
When you were told your emotions were “too dramatic” or your preferences were “too picky,” you learned that everything needed a defense attorney.
I once spent forty-five minutes explaining to a date why I didn’t want to see a particular movie because, somewhere deep down, I felt I needed to prove my preference was valid.
He finally interrupted me and said, “It’s okay, we can just see something else.”
The relief I felt was immediately followed by embarrassment.
The exhausting part? Most people don’t need or want these lengthy explanations.
They’re perfectly fine with “I don’t feel like Italian food tonight,” but when you’ve been conditioned to believe your feelings need justification, simple statements feel dangerous.
2) Constantly monitoring your enthusiasm level
Remember the last time you got really excited about something? Did you immediately dial it back when you noticed others weren’t matching your energy?
People who were told they were “too much” become expert enthusiasm regulators.
We’ve developed an internal meter that constantly measures the room’s energy and adjusts accordingly.
Get too excited about your favorite band? Quick, tone it down.
Passionate about a work project? Better add some self-deprecating humor to balance it out.
This behavior is so automatic that we often don’t realize we’re doing it.
We’ve become chameleons, matching whatever energy level seems “appropriate” rather than expressing genuine excitement.
The tragedy is that the very passion and intensity that makes us unique gets buried under layers of calculated restraint.
3) Apologizing for basic human needs
“Sorry to bother you, but…”
“I hate to ask, but…”
“I know this is stupid, but..”
Sound familiar? When you’ve been told you’re too needy, too demanding, or too high-maintenance, you start apologizing for having any needs at all.
Hungry? Sorry for suggesting dinner.
Need emotional support? Sorry for being a burden.
Want to spend time together? Sorry for being clingy.
I realized I was doing this when a friend pointed out that I’d apologized four times while asking if she wanted to grab coffee.
With someone who had literally just texted me saying she missed hanging out.
These constant apologies are a form of self-betrayal.
Every “sorry” reinforces the belief that your needs are an inconvenience rather than a normal part of being human.
4) Becoming the emotional caretaker
Here’s an interesting paradox: People who were told they were “too emotional” often become the designated emotional support system for everyone else.
We learned early that our emotions were problems, but we also became incredibly skilled at reading and managing other people’s feelings.
We know exactly when someone’s mood shifts, what might trigger them, and how to smooth things over.
We’ve become so good at emotional labor that we do it automatically, often at our own expense.
The irony? We can hold space for everyone else’s feelings while constantly minimizing our own.
We’ll spend hours helping a friend process their anxiety while dismissing our own stress as “not a big deal.”
5) Testing relationships with small vulnerabilities
Instead of opening up naturally, we’ve developed a careful system of testing the waters.
Share something slightly personal and watch for reactions.
If it goes well, maybe share something a bit deeper next time; if not, retreat immediately.
This tentative approach to vulnerability comes from learning that being “too open” or “too intense” pushes people away.
So, we parcel out pieces of ourselves in carefully measured doses, always ready to pull back if we sense we’ve shared too much.
A friend once described this as “emotional trial balloons,” and she was absolutely right.
We’re constantly gauging whether it’s safe to be ourselves, treating every relationship like a scientific experiment where one wrong variable could blow everything up.
6) Preemptively rejecting yourself
“I know you probably don’t want to…”
“You don’t have to if you’re busy…”
“It’s fine if you’d rather not…”
We reject ourselves before anyone else can.
It’s a protective mechanism developed from years of being told we’re too much to handle.
Rather than risk actual rejection, we build it into our invitations and requests.
This self-rejection extends beyond words.
We might not apply for jobs we want, not pursue relationships that interest us, or not share ideas we’re passionate about.
We’ve internalized the message that we’re “too much” so deeply that we exclude ourselves from opportunities before anyone else has the chance to.
7) Alternating between oversharing and complete withdrawal
There’s no middle ground when you’ve been labeled “too much.”
Either you’re spilling everything in a desperate attempt to be understood, or you’re locked down tighter than Fort Knox because you’re terrified of overwhelming someone.
This pattern is exhausting for everyone involved.
Partners and friends never know which version they’re getting.
Will today be the day you share every thought and feeling? Or will you be completely shut down, insisting everything is “fine”?
The push-pull dynamic creates exactly what we’re trying to avoid: Relationship instability.
But when you’ve never learned what “just enough” looks like, finding balance feels impossible.
8) Intellectualizing emotions instead of feeling them
Can you explain attachment theory but struggle to identify what you’re actually feeling? Do you analyze your emotions like a research project rather than experiencing them?
When emotions were labeled as “too much,” many of us learned to approach them academically.
We can discuss the neuroscience of anxiety, the psychology of anger, and the sociology of loneliness.
But actually feeling these emotions? That’s terrifying.
A professor once told me I “wrote like I was afraid to have an opinion,” and it completely changed how I approached not just writing, but emotions in general.
I realized I’d been hiding behind analysis to avoid the vulnerability of actually feeling and expressing things directly.
Final thoughts
Recognizing these patterns was both devastating and liberating.
Devastating because I realized how much energy I’d spent trying to make myself smaller, more palatable, less “too much.”
Liberating because awareness is the first step to change.
If you see yourself in these behaviors, know this: The people who told you that you were “too much” were really saying you were too much for them.
Your intensity, sensitivity, passion, and depth are strengths that the right people will appreciate.
The work is to find people who can handle all of you and, more importantly, to learn to handle all of yourself.
Stop apologizing for existing.
You’re not too much, you never were.