Every time someone said this to me, I learned to pull back a little more. To speak quieter, feel less intensely, take up less space. Be less myself.

But what happens when an entire generation grows up being told they’re “too much”—usually with rolling eyes?

We end up shrinking ourselves and forget who we truly are. Our mind and our heart become so disconnected that we end up feeling like strangers in our own body. And then we walk around wondering why we are not able to connect to each other anymore. Why, even if our life is packed with things to do, we still feel the void.

Over the years I’ve realized how writing has always been my therapy for that crippling feeling of rejection in my chest—a small ritual where I could be alone without feeling lonely.

It pulls the mess out of your head and brings you back to the raw intensity of your true self. You feel it under your skin, and it finally makes you reconnect with your body.

It just came naturally at some point in my life. I think it was around the early days of social media. I think it sparked from a deep necessity to be heard. Because, as a young man in the real world, nobody really wants to listen to what you have to say.

But you still feel it all, and writing is my way to say what I have to say without anybody telling me “Diego, don’t be too much.” Because here whoever reads me is free to stay or simply turn and keep going on their path.

Maybe my style won’t be perfect but writing is my way to reconnect to my real self and do it without anybody else and their stinky judgment standing in the middle. 🙃