On Being “Too Much”

Milli Fox Toronto based self-help and motivational blogger. Oh she’s just too much.

How often do you worry about being “too *insert adjective here*?

I have been living under the illusion that I am unapologetically myself. I have this nice idea that because i’m outspoken and I’m not afraid of confrontation or conflict that somehow that automatically means that I am also true to myself. Don’t ask me how I put that one together….

Anyway, Instagram has definitely shined a light into some of my darkest corners. So as much as I love to hate so many aspects about it, ultimately I am grateful for the questions it has brought up for me.

Why am I posting this?

Really, so many questions go through my head before I decide upon what to post. Today I had this idea that I should start a post series called #whatimreallythinking and share the TRUE thoughts that go through my head while I’m thinking about whether or not to post something. But I’ll come back to that idea.

What I’m really getting at here is how often I second guess myself before I share something. Even on this blog. I actually have a super deep fear of being viewed as “too much”.

I’ve actually had this fear for a long time. I’m afraid that people will think I’m too bitchy, too bossy, too forceful, too goofy, too un-ladylike,

I’m also very concerned that people are going to think that if I share the deep, painful parts of me that people will automatically think it’s because I’m looking for attention.

And you know what’s so interesting and sort of funny? The other day, I was watching The American Meme on Netflix and Kendal Jenner of all people responded to that criticism with: “I just really don’t see what the problem with attention is”.

I sat with that for awhile. I’m still thinking about it.

Why are we so concerned about people wanting attention? I guess it all comes down to the why (as in most things). Why do you want the attention to begin with?

In my case, I know a lot of it has to do with wanting to feel seen, heard and validated. (By the way, we all want to feel seen, heard and validated). I personally didn’t get much of that from the people in my life who are “supposed” to give it to you- so I guess now I am seeking it. Admitting that in itself seems like something I’m supposed to be ashamed of.

But why? Why am I supposed to feel bad about the fact that I suffered in many ways as a child and now I’m trying to figure all that shit out, air my pain out to dry and to take control of my own story?

Why should I feel afraid that my shit is going to make someone else uncomfortable?

Why should I swallow my painful memories in attempts to keep it kosher?

I keep seeing this quote around the internet that says something along the lines of: If you’re too much for someone, they just aren’t your people.

I think that’s it. I think we just need to stop worrying about making those people uncomfortable and start shining for the people who DO need to hear our shit. For that ONE person who needs to hear what we’re saying, in the specific way that we’re saying it, on that specific day that we feel like saying it.

I am so afraid of people thinking I’m looking for sympathy, it makes me feel so uncomfortable sometimes when people offer me words of encouragement or tell me I’m doing a great job. I feel like they are just being nice or even that they don’t really know allllll of me, so their compliments or encouragement is somehow not applicable.

So, as I sit here trying to embrace allllll of me- I am gonna take a step into this uncharted territory of revealing my “too muchness”. Some of which isn’t even about ME, but more-so about things that happened TO ME that I’ve been too afraid to share for fear of making my family uncomfortable.

I realize I’ve been trying to protect people that never really even tried to do much to protect me.

I think I’m ready to throw all that people-pleasing shit out the window.

Time to air out all too much of my dirty laundry. Cause shame can’t live in the light sista!

Share one way that you’ve always been concerned you are “too much” of in the comments below.



Deserve is a Dangerous Word

Milli Fox author, blogger and entrepreneur in Toronto, ONTARIO

Entitlement. It’s a big issue. I think it’s one of the biggest issues we’re facing at the moment. You can do anything, you can have it all, anything is possible- therefore you deserve it.

“Self love will strengthen your decision making when it comes to deciding who deserves your love.”


I read this quote and it stirred things in me. Hmmm yes- self love. That’s a big one. But I think a lot of us are confusing self-love (like the real deal) with ego and entitlement.

Doesn’t everyone deserve love? I don’t know do they? What if you’ve committed atrocities against those you claim to love over and over again? Does that person you claim to love owe you their love?

Then it makes me wonder, what is love? Really. Who defines what it looks like to love someone? Is it only in your heart? Is it an action that needs to be felt by the other person or can it simply be sent from a distance without overt communication?

Does a parent deserve a child’s love? Does a child deserve a parent’s?

I guess it can all be evaluated on a case by case basis.

Who really “deserves” anything?

I think the world is harsh but because we live in an instant gratification society we all feel that because something seems within reach that we automatically deserve it. Because do-you boo boo.

But I also believe in hard work and proving your character.

I truly believe you don’t owe anybody anything.

When it comes down to it. There is no “oweing” or “deserving”. There is only communication, setting realistic expectations and making sure to work towards all parties feeling heard, understood and seen.

I realize this is all pretty vague and maybe even jumps between ideas. But the main idea here is- I think we’re all living in a bit of an inflated world. propped up by crazy high moral standards.

Everyone wants to be a virtual crusader.

Sometimes the answers aren’t clear and I think it’s ok to accept that. Sometlmes broad statements just done work. Ok maybe a lot of the time.

I just always feel very wary when I hear the world “deserve”

Maybe worthiness is a better choice. We’re all definitely worthy of love.

What’s your take?


Repeat After Me: I Am Not My Mother

Well are you?

Depends on what you mean when you say it. Are you the guardian of your own well being? Are you the nurturer of your spirit and soul? Are you sheparding your own growth as an individual?

If yes, then maybe you are your own mother- but you are not YOUR mother, or the woman who raised you. Say it again.

We all have so many fears about repeating the mistakes that our parents made. And as wives and mothers ourselves, we have very special fears about becoming our mothers, especially now. We judge them so harshly for their shortsightedness, their weaknesses, their insecurities and their blindspots.

But they were supposed to be perfect for us, and for our fathers and our brothers and sisters too, weren’t they?

They weren’t supposed to make us feel small or ignore us or overshadow us- or tell us things about us that weren’t true but made us believe them anyway.

And we’re still supposed to keep them on a pedestal.

The funniest thing about “the mother” is that they are untouchable, yet still the most criticized, revered, but also judged people in our world.

You only have one mother you know, you’ll regret it when she’s gone.

But will I?

I’ve written this entire post so far in the removed- but I’m about to get personal.

I have mommy issues. If you do too, you’ll get it. Cause trying to explain to anyone else who doesn’t is like trying to explain the grammatical system of a Slavic language.

The relationship I have with my mother is the most complex relationship I’ve ever and likely will ever experience. Your mother is supposed to be your world- and when she gives you a really backwards world, it affects absolutely everything.

The thing about my mother is that she held it together really well for a long time. When she was my age she was in almost the identical spot that I’m in- and that shit is scary as fuck. You’ll understand when you hear what happened next.

She had her own business, she owned a home with my father and was in a happy marriage, she was pregnant with her second baby, she was healthy and fit and everything seemed to be coming up roses.

Then her mother died. Two weeks before my brother was born, and everything crashed.

I learned recently that my grandmother had almost the exact same experience. Her mother died when she was pregnant with my mother. If you’ve ever heard of ancestral trauma- that probably sounds pretty fascinating.

The funny thing is, when my grandmother was on her death bed- she said, don’t treat Emily the same way I treated you….As you may infer, they also didn’t have a great relationship. My mom left home at 15.

I think what happened after that could have easily been labelled postpartum depression. But it was likely just the straw that broke the camels back… along with some insane timing. First came the depression, then the drugs, then the suicidal tendencies and the cycle went from there.

How can such a vibrant, smart, funny, strong woman go from having everything to being a skeletal shell of who I used to call mom?

I guess it goes back pretty far.

The thing is, I’ve tried everything. I’ve spent so many years trying to repair this relationship. But everytime I laugh, or tell a joke or sometimes when I look in the mirror I see her.

No matter how much a parent can hurt you- it’s so hard to cut off all feeling. It’s the same thing with any abuser isn’t it?

When it’s your own mother it’s incredibly hard to let yourself go and to live life freely not shackled to the what if’s. What if she gets better, what if it’s different this time, what if I do regret it?

I’m coming to this crux, because I know she’s not well. I know she doesn’t have much longer and I’m so afraid. We’re planning to have another baby- but the problem is, I don’t trust her.

I don’t trust her for a second. And I keep hearing Brene Brown’s voice in my head saying don’t show people your “stuff” if you don’t trust them.

She has always and will always hurt me. She’s volatile. I can’t have her near my family.

So the choice is this, do I let her in at all or do I keep my walls up and protect my fortress? I have no way of knowing what’s right and neither does anyone else. It’s all about boundaries- but what are the right boundaries to set and how do you know when to give a little? When to have a little more compassion as to not seem like an ice queen?

How do you not become your mother?

I’m preparing for a battle and I don’t know whether to go in guns blazing or to lay down my weapons.

All I know is- I am not my mother. Whatever I decide, whatever YOU do or say to try to help me with this decision, no one is my mother and that’s the reality of the situation.


Fine Lines & Contradictions

Oh lord we walk the line. Everyday and everyway. As women, as mothers- it tears us in two. Speak your truth they say, but don’t disrespect your elders and don’t offend anyone. Take care of yourself they say- but they don’t offer a hand. Self-care, what is it? A face mask, a warm bath, or an appointment with your therapist? But is it for the ego or the soul?

Do you know yourself? Do you trust yourself? How can you be sure? Too much wondering and worrying. How do you have boundaries that are healthy and how do you enforce them? Everyone wants you to be the nice girl. Where do you find inspiration without comparison and how do you stop the feelings of unworthiness that always seem to creep in when searching for “inspiration”? How do you share your story without seeming indulgent? How do you know when you’ve shared too much or even if it’s possible? Some people with applaud you and thank you and others will tell you you’re searching for attention. You can never do it right. How do you let go of “right”? How do you operate outside of right and wrong? Even if you logically acknowledge that there truly is no right or wrong, we are beings attached to beliefs. We’re all attached to what we think is right and wrong.

Love your family they say. Open your heart they say. But stand up for yourself and don’t let anyone tell you you’re not worthy of love. Isn’t it usually our families that make us believe those lies in the first place? How do you open your heart to the people who harderned your heart in the first place?

I just want to write and hit publish but I feel like I need to provide answers. I need to show you I have things figured out.

Sometimes everything just seems like a contradiction. Like I’m always balancing on these fines lines of ambition and self absorption. Of love and losing myself. Of strength and cold heartedness. Of mindfulness and blindness.

How can I justify any of this? I can’t.

But one thing I know is- that’s not the point. The experience IS the point. The expansion and the new questions that bubble up ARE the point. The path is the point. Paying attention is the point.

There really is no finale.


Guard Your Fucks Like Gold

Milli Fox self help stop giving a fuck

Have you ever tried to start a diet or a new exercise regime and fell flat on your face? Yea, we all have. You know why? Because will power is not an endless resource, it’s finite. You only have so much of it and you have to choose how to use it wisely. The same thing applies for Fucks.

And what I mean by Fucks, is all the things you spend your mental energy on and all the things you think you should, or actually do care about. I recently read the book The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck, by Mark Manson and it was one of the most honest, pull up your damn pants and stop being a little bitch-baby self-help books I’ve ever read.

It taught me a lesson I really needed to learn, and this one is gonna stick.

When Rosen was first born, I read all the books. All the blogs. All the facebook groups. Being a first time mother, I cared infinitely and I wanted to do EVERYTHING the right way. The problem was I was caring too much about things that ultimately don’t make that much of a difference in the long run.

I thought if I obsessed and controlled and ensured, it would make me a good mother. All the while, I was being a crazy ass and actually ended up being a WORSE mother for it. I was stressed and constantly fixating on my plans for perfect motherhood instead of just trusting my own instincts.

I’ve basically been this way my entire life. Perfection to me has always equaled value. If I can produce, I can be worthy of love. I’m still working on letting that go, but on a pretty deep level, I’m starting to understand how much farther from the truth that could actually be.

When you’re spending time trying to appear to be a certain way, you ultimately don’t have enough energy left over to focus on things that actually matter- like being a better wife, daughter, mother, sister etc.

When you spend too much time giving a fuck about how you think you should be doing things, you waste a lot of precious time and energy.

I now consider myself a recovering perfectionist and I’m spending my fucks on things like loving myself more, showing my husband I actually appreciate our relationship, and letting my toddler son be his crazy, messy, unpredictable, incredible, sleep-hating little self.

I’m not even giving a fuck that my writing is hella wordy and that my sentence structure is completely made up.

But seriously girlfriend. You have this one precious life. I have NO IDEA, why it takes most of us, at minimum, 30 plus years to stop giving a shit about what other people think or the so called, right ways of doing things. Like this morning when I snatched the frying pan out of my husband’s hand and told him it was the wrong pan for eggs. Lol. All I know is- you need to let that shit go because it’s one of the only ways to be TRULY fulfilled and enjoy your life.

I think the true recipe for fulfilment and satisfaction on this insane planet is to accept yourself and go forth into the world unapologetically. Do meaningful work and create from your soul. Be grateful for every tiny little thing you have (fun fact: I tell myself all the things I’m grateful for as I fall asleep to avoid the incessant chatter and one thing I often mention is how grateful I am for my soft bed sheets) and remind yourself of how grateful you are DAILY.

Stop giving your fucks away to anyone and everyone. They don’t deserve them. Your Fucks are one of your most valuable resources, right along side your time and your trust. Hang onto that shit for dear life and ration it with caution. I beg of you. And darling, just starting owning it.

I fucking love you.

xx MIlli

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