Do I have to dilute my love so that it is not too much?

Always Hold Back a Little? No Thanks!

Someone once told me, "Always hold back a little when you fall in love." That was over 30 years ago, and I’ve spent way too much time trying to decipher that cryptic piece of advice. At first, I thought it meant something logical, like: Don’t lose yourself in a relationship. Sounds reasonable, right?

Right. For someone else. But absolutely wrong for me.

You see, I have finally cracked the riddle, and here’s the truth: I only know one way to love, and that is with every single cell in my body. I don’t do half-measures. I don’t ration affection. When I love, I love. I fall hard, and I fall fast. There’s no holding back, no strategic pacing, no "playing it cool." I am all in, heart first, head second (if at all).

For some people, that’s too much. And in my past relationships, I’ve been made very aware of that fact.

My enthusiastic "I love you’s" became too frequent for some. My "Tell me how you’re feeling" was interpreted as an interrogation. My constant touching? Seen as an invasion of personal space. My deep emotional connection? Rebranded as "needy." And let’s not forget the all-time classic: being told there was something wrong with my head.

Needless to say, those relationships didn’t last. But in their wake, they left behind something insidious—doubt. Doubt about whether my love was wrong, whether I was too much, whether I needed to dim my light so I wouldn’t scare anyone away.

But here’s the thing: the problem was never my love. The problem was that I was giving my love to people who weren’t equipped to receive it.

Now, I’m in a long-term relationship with a man who can hold all of my love. He doesn’t flinch at the intensity. He doesn’t recoil when I reach for his hand for the hundredth time that day. He’s not intimidated by the strength of my emotions. In fact, he welcomes it. And now I finally understand:

My love is not a burden. My love is a gift. A rare, beautiful, wholehearted, no-holds-barred kind of gift.

So why do we keep getting told to hold back? Why are we so afraid to be vulnerable? Why do we shrink ourselves so we don’t scare someone off?

Here’s what I’ve learned: If someone perceives my love as "too much," that is not a reflection of my worth. That is a reflection of their capacity. And I refuse to believe that love—true, unfiltered, deeply felt love—is something that needs to be measured in teaspoons.

For those of us who love intensely, here are some reminders:

1. Your love is not "too much." It’s just right for the right person. If someone sees it as overwhelming, it simply means they’re not the right container for it.

2. You are not needy—you are expressive. There is nothing wrong with wanting to connect, to feel, to share.

3. If someone makes you feel ashamed for loving deeply, walk away. Shame has no place in love.

4. Stop apologizing for being yourself. The world needs more people who love deeply, not fewer.

5. The right person will never make you feel like you need to hold back. Love should feel expansive, not restrictive.

   
   

So if you, like me, love with the intensity of a thousand suns—own it. Be proud of it. You don’t have to dilute your love for it to be valuable. The right person won’t just handle your love; they will cherish it. And they’ll never, ever ask you to hold back.