There’s this quiet pressure—especially on women—to shrink our desires. Be reasonable. Be realistic. Be low-maintenance, easy to love, easy to keep. Wanting too much is treated like a flaw. Wanting too much love, too much life, too much adventure, attention, success, softness. We’re told to tone it down. To not take up so much space with our dreams or our feelings. To not ask for more than what’s handed to us.
But why not want it all?
Why not be the kind of person who refuses to settle for the bare minimum—in love, in friendships, in the way you walk through the world? Why not want big love, real joy, a career that lights you up, and mornings that don’t feel like survival mode? Why not be the one who risks embarrassment for honesty? Who loves hard and loud and without shame?
I’ve been told I feel too deeply, want too openly, care too much. I used to take that as criticism. Now I see it for what it is: proof that I’m awake. Proof that I’m not afraid to live with my whole chest.
Because what’s the alternative? Numbing yourself down into something more palatable? Cutting pieces off your personality until you fit into a version of life that never even fit you to begin with?
No. I’d rather be too much than not enough for the rest of my life.
So why not want too much?
The people who get it won’t be afraid of your hunger—they’ll match it. The life that’s meant for you won’t ask you to tone it down.
