From the time we are young, we are told we are too much . . . something. We’re too quiet, too loud, too big, too small, too weird . . .

There is always something. Something we should change, fix, shift, transform. So that then the world can shout us down for being a poser, conformist, weakling, sheep.

Then they do it all over again.

My feet kicked this thought process off today. Yah. My mom gave me a set of shoes to try on because she didn’t like the way they fit her, but returning them isn’t worth it after shipping and all. So I put them on and was legit surprised they fit, because they’re a 9.5M. Lately the only shoes that fit are a 10W.

And the thought that has followed me my whole life followed . . . “I have huge feet.” Generally this isn’t something I’ve ever been embarrassed by. In fact most of the time I’ve been kind of proud of my big feet, except that it was often hard to find the cute girls’ styles in them. (Thank you, all women’s shoe makers and shops that carry up to size 11!) Even when other girls tried to tease me about my feet, that was one thing they just couldn’t hurt me over. There is only one time I can remember being enraged over someone making me feel like my freaking foot size was out of line, but that’s a can of worms I won’t open right now.

But the point is that people have TOLD me I have huge feet. People have been WOWed by my feet. People have asked if it’s hard to find shoes. People have told me I have pretty feet and should go into foot modeling – or the fetish world. So this is an idea that has followed me my whole life.

And today I looked at these snazzy new shoes and thought “I have huge feet.” but for the first time it was followed by “Says whom?”

. . .

Cue moment of confusion. Sure, other people have mentioned my foot size, especially since I’m average size otherwise. But . . . really, who set the standard for foot size? In fact, why is 5′ 6″ considered “average” for a woman when some days I feel like it’s short (married to a 6′ 6″ guy, keep in mind) and other days when I’m around some of my friends, I’m startled to be the tallest woman there.

I know there’s a whole discussion on societal standards and how they’re bullshit, etc. But aside from that, humans seem to have a NEED to standarize and average people. We have to have this set of rules for people to be weighed and measured against, and when someone falls outside that, there are consequences.

And this stretches into everything else as well. Apparently we can be “too loud” and “too quiet.” Instead of being left to our devices, people have to fix this. They have to try and adjust our volume. I once had a couple dingbats try to slip sleeping pills into my soda at a sleepover because I was “too much.” (And shall I note here that the “too quiet” girl saw it happen and threw out my soda and then came and told me?)

Too much. What does that even mean? What is a 12 or 13 year old supposed to think when their peers say they are “too much?” Especially when they don’t like these peers and already think they should go to hell?

How do these ideas follow us into adulthood?

“You’re too . . .

“You’re too weird.”


You know what? You’re fucking right. I’m too goddamn much. I have a lot of muchness. And this pathetic world can’t even begin to handle it.

And it’s awesome.

When the world tells you you’re too something, run toward it. Unless it’s someone very close to you who is honestly concerned about your state, chances are you’re just becoming too much for the world to handle, and so you’re going to be told to shut that shit down before you make someone uncomfortable.

Instead, run to it. Embrace it. Hold it up and see how it fits. Roll around in it until ecstasy infuses every cell of you.

This is where your Higher Self lives, and she will help you on your path to muchness. It’s what she fucking excels at.

If you want more info on your Higher Self, including how to have a face-to-face meeting with her, grab the meditation by clicking HERE.

FURTHER READING: Why Your Higher Self is Dangerous As Fuck