It’s Time to Stop Apologizing for Existing (And Yes - I’m Still Learning It Too)

I can’t remember a time when I didn’t feel too much.
Too loud. Too emotional. Too opinionated. Too big.

Like many women — and many of my clients — I’ve carried that invisible script that says: “Tone it down. Don’t upset anyone. Don’t take up too much space.”
It’s funny how deep those scripts run. They show up in meetings, in relationships, in the gym (where I’m always concerned about my water bottle being “too close” to another machine — the audacity!).

Somewhere along the line, I learned that if other people were uncomfortable, I must have caused it. That if someone pulled away, it was because I was too much. And if someone was stressed or distant, it must be something I did.
It’s a exhausting way to live — constantly shape-shifting into the most palatable version of yourself.

But I’m learning something different now. You can’t shrink yourself into being loved. You can’t apologize your way into peace.

The Psychology of Shrinking Ourselves

People-pleasing isn’t a personality flaw. It’s a nervous system response — a survival strategy that once kept us safe.
For many of us, “being easy” or “being helpful” was how we stayed connected. Maybe growing up, love and approval were tied to how well we behaved, how calm we were, or how much we made others comfortable.
That pattern doesn’t disappear in adulthood. It just evolves. It becomes over-apologizing. Over-performing. Over-analyzing.
We call it the fawn response — your brain’s way of saying: “Connection feels safer than conflict.”

So instead of setting boundaries, we smile. Instead of resting, we prove our worth. Instead of speaking up, we shrink down. We tell people to let us go, because that will somehow cause less stress in their life.
It’s not weakness — it’s wiring. But it’s wiring that can change.

Reclaiming Space

One of the most powerful things I’ve learned — both in therapy and my own life — is that taking up space doesn’t make you selfish or dramatic. It makes you human.
You deserve to exist without apology. You deserve to have needs, opinions, and desires — even if they make others uncomfortable.

And here’s the wildest thing: the more I practice that, the more I realize people want me to take up space. The right people aren’t threatened by your fullness; they’re inspired by it. They don’t flinch when you speak with passion. They don’t run when you have boundaries. They bend, adjust, and meet you halfway.

Nature is a perfect reminder of this.
Trees don’t apologize for how tall they grow. Flowers don’t ask if their colours are too bright.
No one tells the ocean to “quiet down” or the stars to “stop shining so much.”
Every part of nature just… exists — fully, unapologetically, perfectly itself.
And we are nature.

So, why do we keep trying to fit into smaller and smaller boxes?

What Taking Up Space Looks Like

It’s not always grand gestures. Sometimes it’s:

• Saying “no” without a dissertation explaining why.

• Letting your smile take up space in a photo.

• Sharing your opinion in a meeting, even if your voice shakes.

• Leaving a relationship or job where you’re constantly shrinking.

• Wearing what makes you feel good — not what makes you disappear.

I’m still learning this myself. Some days, I nail it. Other days, I find myself whispering “sorry” to the barista for forgetting what it is I get everytime when it’s my turn to order. But I’m catching it faster. I’m choosing to show up anyway — fully, awkwardly, beautifully me.

Because the truth is: your too much-ness is someone else’s “oh my god, thank you for being you.”

Healing the “I’m Too Much” Story

If you’ve spent years (or decades) people-pleasing, it can feel terrifying to take up space. Your body might even interpret it as unsafe — your heart races, your chest tightens, your mind floods with guilt.
That’s because your nervous system learned long ago that shrinking equals safety.

Therapies like EMDR can help shift that wiring. They work by targeting the old memories and beliefs that created the pattern in the first place — those moments your brain learned “it’s not safe to be me.”
Over time, your body learns something new: that you can speak up, stand tall, and still be loved.

So if you’re tired of apologizing for existing, start here:
Take up one inch more space today.
Speak one truth.
Hold one boundary.
Wear the outfit. Send the message. Take the photo.

And when guilt whispers that you’re “too much,” remind yourself — trees don’t apologize for reaching toward the sun. Neither should you.

xoxo