Opinion
’Too Much’ Girls, We Should Never Settle for Someone Who’s Not Enough
Tell Jesus the b*tch is back — and yes, I’m talking about Lena Dunham. It’s been almost a decade since she graced our screens as the creator and star of Girls — all adventurous women do — and now she’s returned with her new rom-com, Too Much. Starring Megan Stalter as Jess, the show follows her post-breakup revival in London, where she meets the quintessential British indie boy, Felix (Will Sharpe). Not only are we getting another plus-sized heroine when we need her most, but this one is the title. She is too much. And step aside, Hannah Horvath — Jess might just be the voice of our generation. Or at least, mine.
By Episode 5, Jess waits for Zev (Michael Zegen) in a dark room. He’s dismissive, as he’s been for weeks. She initiates the big, scary conversation, and he basically shrugs his way through the breakup. For months, he’s been surgically dismantling her self-worth, mocking the outfits he once complimented, criticizing her music and TV taste (Vanderpump Rules slander will NOT be tolerated), and turning every issue into a reflection of her. He finds her too much. Which, honestly, should’ve been obvious from the name of the show.
Jess tells him their relationship has felt like “a bunch of little papercuts. But imagine your whole body covered in papercuts.” (Genuinely, goosebumps.)
“You’re one of those guys who thinks he wants a strong woman, who loves all the bright, big things about her, but you f**king don’t,” she says. “You just want to beat me into submission. Maybe not with your fists, but with your words and your lack of love.”
The bright, exuberant woman who began the relationship is gone, dimmed, uncertain. She’s lost the bounce in her step, the joy in her eyes, the confidence in her worth. Even now, Zev won’t take accountability for his role in this, and instead makes it seem like she is overreacting, while he can’t even look at her.
Netflix
“You’re really, really good at turning everything into a sob story,” Zev sighs. I had to physically stop myself from punching my laptop screen.
When I started watching Too Much, Dunham’s first big TV project since Girls, I expected laughs and cringe — I mean, have you watched Girls? Do you remember Marnie singing “Stronger” at that office party?! But I didn’t expect to see myself so clearly in Jess. I didn’t expect to watch my own relationships play out — the rise and fall of the “too much” girl.
Growing up, I was the loudest laugh in the room. The messiest crier. The girl who loved too hard and took up too much space. I felt too much. Talked too much. Needed too much. Wanted too much. Imagined too much. Saw too much. Said too much. Seeing a bit of a pattern? My therapist sure did.
The funny thing? Men love a “too much” girl — at first. They eat that sh*t up. They commend your vulnerability, they delight in your emotions, they sign up for the wild ride. They call you passionate, brave, honest, unique. They say they’ve never met anyone like you. They’ve never felt a connection like this one. They say they don’t want to play games.
But it doesn’t last. It never does. Because no one likes too much… even of a good thing. Suddenly, you’re too much. Their affection disappears as quickly as it came. The love they once praised is now overwhelming. The feelings they once admired now irritate them. When you cry, they don’t comfort you. They leave. They blame you for crying, as if it’s some calculated move. As if it doesn’t frustrate you, too.
They want you smaller. Simpler. Easier. When they once swore they loved how you were none of those things.
There’s been a lot of chatter lately about how exhausting it is to date someone who’s “too much.” My TikTok FYP is flooded with takes on Amaya Espinal and the brutal way various Love Island USA men tore her down for being overwhelming. She said “babe” too soon. She cried too much. She moved too fast. All the classic Scarlet Letters of a “too much” girl. How awful, right? To be loved so fully. How dreadful to be on the receiving end of that kind of devotion.
Ben Symons / Peacock
But has anyone stopped to consider how exhausting it is to be too much? How empty you feel after giving your all, only to be faulted for it? How hard it is to build emotional dams so you don’t flood yourself along with them? No, I’m guessing that part doesn’t cross your mind. Just how “annoying” we are.
I’ve been dating again, post-breakup, and I feel like I need to drip-feed my personality to people in acceptable doses. I’m restraining myself, filtering my too-muchness into something more agreeable. It’s hard when they respond so positively at the start. It’s tempting to just be myself. My friends tell me to do exactly that. They love me for it. But in the words of Taylor Swift: I think I’ve seen this film before.
Watching Jess unravel in Too Much felt like being handed a mirror and a love letter at once. In the final episode, she meets Zev’s latest ex, Wendy (Emily Ratajkowski), who says, “It’s like he chooses strong women just to tear us down.” The two connect on being once-powerful women whittled down by the same man.
Since watching the show, I stopped worrying about being too much and started wondering whether they had been enough. Did they truly believe they could handle all of me? Or did they just need someone smaller to feel bigger, like Zev clearly did?
I can’t say if Jess has found something better in Felix. There’s a bucketload of red flags to sort through. But seeing a gorgeous, strong, too much heroine like Jess made me finally consider that maybe I don’t need to change.
That maybe there’s someone out there who will create extra space for me to fill rather than trying to whittle me down into a box. Who won’t make me apologize, but will mean it when they say they love me for all my muchness. Maybe they exist, maybe they don’t. But I think I’d rather wait for it than settle for another person filing down my edges and causing that death by a thousand papercuts.
Too Much, Season 1, Streaming Now, Netflix
