cultural traditions

darnold1975

When ‘Too Much’ Meets ‘Not Enough’: A Survival Guide for the Spirit They Couldn’t Resize

“Let them call you too much. Some people only say that because they’ve never met someone who refuses to live on mute.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Let the smoke rise like it’s clocking in for its shift. Like it’s ready to escort every dusty opinion, every unsolicited critique, and every generational expectation straight out the front door. The moment somebody decides to inform you that you are either “too much” or “not enough,” that’s when the ritual begins. That’s when you cleanse the room. Clear the energy. And prepare yourself for the comedy of errors that is other people trying to regulate a spirit they did not create. And once that sage hits the air? The truth comes out like it’s been waiting backstage with a mic and a spotlight.

You know that moment when your family, your friends, and the entire Southern social order gather around like a committee of porch‑sitting elders. And they proceed to inform you, very gently, very prayerfully, that you are either too much or not enough? That’s the moment you realize you were never the problem. The problem was the committee.

It always starts with someone holding a casserole like it’s a moral authority. They pull you aside and say, “We’re just worried.” Worried about what? Your volume? Your opinions? Your refusal to shrink yourself into a polite, beige, church‑approved silhouette?

They’ll say, “You’re too loud,” “You’re too emotional,” “You’re too confident,” And “You’re too honest.” And then, without even inhaling, they’ll pivot to, “You’re not grateful enough,” “You’re not humble enough,” “You’re not patient enough,” And “You’re not quiet enough.” Am I a Category 5 hurricane or a lukewarm drizzle? I cannot be both the storm and the drought.

There is nothing like being raised in a culture where people will literally say, “Bless your heart,” while handing you a personality correction like it’s a church bulletin. They want you to be authentic, as long as, your authenticity fits inside their emotional carry‑on bag. They’ll warn you “Tone it down,” “Don’t rock the boat,” “Don’t embarrass the family,” and “Don’t say that out loud.” Meanwhile, the family has been embarrassing you since 1986.

One day, you wake up and realize you are not auditioning for the role of “Acceptable Human #3” in someone else’s life. You stop editing your personality for people who don’t even proofread their own lives. You stop shrinking your joy to fit someone else’s comfort zone. You stop apologizing for existing at full wattage. And suddenly the same people who said you were “too much” start whispering, “She’s changed.” No, you haven’t. You just stopped offering the discounted version of yourself.

People call you “too much” when they’ve built their lives around being less. People call you “not enough” when they want you small enough to manage. People call you “intimidating” when they’re used to being unchallenged. People call you “dramatic” when they’re used to you swallowing your feelings like communion wafers. You are not too much. You are not, not enough. You are exactly the right amount for the life you’re meant to live.

Let’s start by rewriting the script. If they say you’re too loud. Maybe they’re too quiet. If they say you’re too emotional. Maybe they’re emotionally constipated. If they say you’re too confident. Maybe they’re allergic to self‑esteem. And if they say you’re too honest. Maybe they’re used to lies dressed as manners. You are not a problem to be solved. You are a whole person with a whole personality or many. And if that rattles the folding chairs at the family reunion, then let them rattle.

The next time somebody tries to hand you a personality correction like it’s a bulletin from the usher board, just smile. Adjust your crown. And keep walking. Because if being fully yourself shakes their table. Flips their pew. And rattles their casserole. Maybe the problem isn’t your volume. Maybe it’s their weak foundation. Opinions are like buttholes. We all have them. And they all stink. Thanks for reading! And keep letting your light shine no matter what they say.

Affirmation: I honor the fullness of who I am. I expand anyway, shine anyway and take up the space my spirit was built for.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

darnold1975

Mardi Gras: The Only Holiday Where Glitter Becomes a Personality Trait

“Mardi Gras: the only time of year when getting hit in the face with a flying Moon Pie is considered a blessing.”

-Unknown

 Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Because Mardi Gras is here, and if you’re not ready, it will eat you alive and spit you out covered in beads, powdered sugar, and regret. If we’re going to talk about Mardi Gras, we need spiritual protection, electrolytes, and possibly a lawyer. This is the only holiday where you can see a man in a feathered cape riding a ladder, a toddler holding a string of beads longer than their body, and a grandma yelling “THROW ME SOMETHIN,’ MISTA!” like she’s summoning a demon. And somehow it’s all completely normal.

“Laissez les bons temps rouler.” Translates to “Let the good times roll and let your dignity roll away with them.” Mardi Gras started thousands of years ago as a celebration of spring, fertility, and “we survived winter, let’s party.” It traveled through Europe, hit France, and eventually landed in Louisiana where New Orleans said: “Cute idea. Let’s crank it up to 11.” And then, Mardi Gras became the only event where grown adults fight over plastic beads like they’re Olympic medals.

Mardi Gras parades are run by krewes, which are basically

  • Social clubs
  • Party planners
  • Costume designers
  • People who take themes way too seriously

Each krewe has a King, a Queen, and at least one person who spent $600 on a cape they’ll wear once. Their job? Throw things at you from a moving vehicle. Your job? Catch them without getting hit in the face. Teamwork.

King Cake is a cinnamon‑swirled, icing‑covered, purple‑green‑and‑gold masterpiece that contains a tiny plastic baby. If you get the baby, you buy the next cake. If you swallow the baby, you now have a story for the ER. It’s festive. It’s delicious. It’s mildly dangerous. Just like Mardi Gras.

Mardi Gras is:

  • Brass bands so loud your ancestors feel it.
  • Costumes that look like a craft store exploded.
  • Glitter in places glitter should never be.
  • People dancing like they’re being electrocuted by joy.
  • A man dressed as a banana arguing with a woman dressed as a pirate.

It’s beautiful. It’s chaotic. It’s spiritual. Purple = Justice Green = Faith Gold = Power Also, they look great on literally everyone, including dogs, babies, and confused tourists.

 Mardi Gras Survival Tips:

  • Hydrate like you’re preparing for battle.
  • Never trust a bead thrown with too much enthusiasm.
  • If someone hands you a Moon Pie, accept it. It’s a blessing.
  • Don’t bend down to pick up beads unless you want to get trampled by a grandma with lightning‑fast reflexes.
  • Glitter is forever. Accept your fate.

Mardi Gras is loud, messy, joyful, historic, spiritual, and slightly dangerous. Which is exactly why it’s perfect. It’s a reminder that life is meant to be lived boldly, colorfully, and with at least one slice of King Cake. Go ahead and dance, laugh and catch beads like your life depends on it. And let the good times roll preferably without rolling yourself into a ditch. Thanks for reading! And party on!

Affirmation: I allow joy, glitter, and powdered sugar to guide my path.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife