You’re Not Too Much

As a kindergartner sometimes I tagged along to my mom’s work as a hotel housekeeper. While my mom worked, I played in the recreation room. Her boss checked on me and always had something fun to play with or a story to share.

One day, in a burst of excitement, I shared something special that happened over the weekend with the supervisor. The words bounded from my mouth like a puppy ready to play in the morning.

The boss chuckled. “Whoa, motor mouth! Slow down!”

In a split-second, my 5-year-old heart crumbled and the lie that would follow me for the next 34 years was born. You’re too much.

This lie would sometimes change its costume—You’re not good enough. No one likes the unedited version of you. But its barb plunged deep into my heart and would threaten to pull me under again and again.

Read the rest of my article on Her View From Home.