When Doing Too Much Becomes “Too Much”

 

When Doing Too Much Becomes “Too Much”
By me

Today, I feel the need to share something deeply personal—a reflection that has lingered with me and stirred a mix of emotions I’m still trying to understand.

Recently, a former administrator said something to me that caught me off guard. It wasn’t just feedback—it was a wound wrapped in words:

“Other people don’t want to have anything to do with you because you do too much. You pull others into work that isn’t theirs. You say, ‘I do this, I do that,’ and it makes others feel bad or guilty for not doing the same.”

Hearing those words stung in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I didn’t respond immediately. I just felt something tighten in my chest, and later—yes—I cried.

It was a hurtful moment. Not because I believe I’m perfect or immune to criticism. I welcome growth. But because the pain came from the feeling of being misunderstood.

I have always believed in stepping up, in doing what needs to be done—not for recognition, but because I care. Because I believe in community. Because I want things to be better for others, especially for those who don’t always have a voice at the table. I never wanted to make anyone feel guilty or inadequate. My intention has never been to shine over anyone else, but to shine a light on what’s possible when we work together.

And yet… here I sit with this deep ambivalence.

On one hand, maybe this moment is a gift in disguise. Perhaps it’s an opportunity to grow—to look at how my enthusiasm and drive might unintentionally overwhelm others. Maybe I can learn how to better pace myself, how to lead with presence instead of pressure.

But on the other hand, the message hurt.
It hurts to think that my commitment might make others turn away.
It hurts to realize that what I thought was helpful could be seen as intrusive or overbearing.
And it hurts most of all to feel that your contributions—your heartwork—are not only unappreciated but quietly resented.

I never asked to be compared. I never wanted anyone to feel “less than.”
I just wanted to be useful. To uplift. To bring people together in service of something greater.

This reflection doesn’t come with a neat ending or easy resolution. I’m still processing. I’m still learning how to hold space for both the hurt and the lesson.

What I know for sure is this: I will not stop caring. I will not stop doing. But maybe I will begin to do so with a softer edge, with more intention, and with deeper awareness of how it’s received.

Growth is never comfortable. But discomfort often carries the seeds of wisdom.

If you’ve ever felt misunderstood for giving too much… you’re not alone.