“Too much.”

A phrase that girls hear too often.

I was told, preached,
and gently commented that I was
too tall,
wanted to do too much,
my face was a little too big,
that I felt too deeply,
my thoughts are too different,
that I look too mixed
and not 100 percent Korean,
too loud,
too quiet,
too serious,
too silly,
too weird,
too bookish,
too intimidating,
too dramatic,
too opinionated,
too poetic,
too foolishly optimistic,
too darkly pessimistic,
too big of a forehead “you should stick with bangs.”

I’ve been and am so tired of it.
If I was to try to be a little less of everything, I may as well be a small gray blob. But then I would be
too small,
too grey,
and too blobby.

There’s no sense in trying to be what everyone says you should be. They have no business obsessing over the details of your life anyway. They haven’t lived your life, seen what you’ve seen, wrestled with the monsters you battle.

You are the sum of a life unseen. And so are they.

It’s enough. You’re enough.

Believing that you are enough
is one step closer to believing that others are as well.
I’m going to start loving my big ole forehead.

I hope you can love whatever forehead you need to. And love it a little too much.