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A post shared by Giulia Rosa (@giuliajrosa) on Mar 31, 2020 at 10:35am PDT

I explained to someone yesterday that I think I’ve become a “coaching slut.”

Yep. I’m addicted to the process—to the feeling—of reaching out to someone to ask for candid advice.

I’ve spent a lot of time doing that these last few months—reaching for the crusty parts of my soul, the parts most people guard carefully.

I’ve run full force at my old self, asking awkward questions. Why are you doing that? Why do you think that? Is that really true?

Am I a good narrator? A good actress? A good person? We’re all flawed, so what am I not seeing that everyone else sees?

Am I too much? Too loud? Too sure of my opinions? Do I interrupt people too much and not give the quiet kids a chance to talk? (I was called in to the school principal’s office with my mother when I was eight so that they could explain to me that I shouldn’t raise my hand all the time, that I needed to be quiet and give the shy kids a chance.) Does that make me a selfish person?

I’ve spent decades dieting, trying to shrink myself so I could be “normal,” or so I could be so thin that all my “sins” would be absolved.

The sins of being too loud, wanting too much, being hungry.

The sins of being too much and taking up space in a world that only wants to accommodate the image of a certain type of girl—a world that had no space for big, brilliant, messy, loud, “too much” girls like me.

I’ve found answers to a lot of these questions, and in some ways the answers haven’t been what I wanted to hear. Quite often, I am too much.

The thing is, I’ve had a long talk with myself and I don’t think I have any interest in changing that. I own it.

I’ve found that those crusty bits of my soul might in fact be ugly, but I no longer think they’re shameful.

I started this journey telling myself to be honest and open to change, and I have changed some awkward, niggling habits. I have questioned a lot of assumptions. I’ve grown up a lot on this journey and as a result, I’m a happier, less neurotic person than I was before all the coaching.

But somewhere along that path I’ve also befriended my “too-muchness.”

I’m not the kind, caring friend who listens and provides comfort. I am, however, the friend who moves planets to help you fix things. I’m the friend that calls bullsh*t when you put yourself down and would go beat up even the biggest of bullies for you.

I’m not the girl who spends my days diligently researching and studying, but I am a quick learner and can figure almost anything out. I also allow room for people who are the polar opposite.

It’s a strange feeling, finally just accepting yourself.

We all know it’s impossible to be liked by everyone all the time, but we tend to still try. We have this human need to be liked, but what about liking ourselves? I’ve spent my whole life trying. I was working on my mindset and visualization before they were even “things.” I diligently pored over self-help books from the tender age of eight. So determined was I to be the best that I could be.

So now, post epiphany, I’m going to forget the diets and relish in the fact that everything about me is big. I have a big heart, a big soul, and a big mouth. And that’s okay. I’ve decided I’m still going to try too hard and overdo everything. I’ll still probably talk too much and be too much and even occasionally interrupt people.

I’m going to do myself, and I’m going to do it with style. As if being me is the most delicious secret that only I know about.