Over the last several months a theme has arisen with many of my clients: they are afraid to take up space. As cisgendered women, we discuss how we have been socialized to take up less space. We sit with our arms crossed and legs close together on a bus, or even worse, in my office. My cis-male clients come in and spread out on the couch. They put their feet up and command the attention of the room, of me.

My cis-female clients sit small, delicately, quietly, often with a pillow in front of them, hiding their stomach, sandwiched between the couch and the pillow. They sink into the couch, almost defeated. They are constantly trying to be thinner, smaller. The messages surrounding us all silently scream at us to be less. Less loud, less big, less confident, less proud…just less. Women twirl through this world as ballerinas, tip toe as ice skaters and fly through as gymnasts. These traditionally female sports demand that we be less. We are graded on our bodies, as they are the tools that help us accomplish the delicacy our sports demand from us. We are graded on how little room we take up; how lightly we glide through the air, how tiny a divot we make when we land on the ice.

The conflict arises as they are coming to therapy to learn to be more. More content, more proud, more outspoken, more out. But when we think about being “more”, we realize that being more requires more space. It requires speaking loudly and with intention and pride. It requires not apologizing when we walk through doors that are held open for us, not side-stepping to allow a man to pass by us. Imagine the intensity of spending your entire life trying to shrink, as your mind continues to grow.

I’ve spent much of my life trying to find the balance of being less while being more. And being more while being less. And I think what it comes down to is not being afraid to take up space. Not being afraid to keep walking down the sidewalk or walk through a door that someone is holding for me without apologizing. I often wonder if my appearance has anything to do with it. Does my size or my haircut or my clothing set me up to experience taking up space differently than someone different than me?

Even within minority communities, we still find ourselves battling one another, constantly shrinking ourselves and each other. Feminine queer girls feel like they don’t belong in LGBTQ spaces. Like they aren’t “gay enough”, like they need to be punished or outcast because they can “pass as straight”. They are afraid to take up space within their own communities, so they shrink their voice, cut their hair. Shrink shrink smaller smaller.

I’m so tired of thinking smaller. My brain is too big for small thoughts. My body is too muscular to support a small appetite. My clients are too empowered to shrink their voices. I’m ready to grow. Ready to think big and act big and take up the space I deserve. My voice needs space, my body needs space, my mind needs space.

But the coolest thing about space, especially emotional space, is that it is finite. So please don’t side step me just because my presence is big. Don’t shrink to accommodate me. There is plenty of room for all of us. In fact, the more space each of us demand, the more space we create. And that is an equation I can live with.