I think a lot about how often I make myself small.

I apologize when I don’t need to. I move out of the way by default. I people-please at my own expense. I let others make decisions I disagree with without voicing my concerns. I don’t speak up about my preferences — even when someone asks — for fear of inconveniencing them.

I make myself small in a world that demands I act big in order to move forward. I’m tired of it. I no longer accept this from myself.

We often act small to fit in. We’re social animals — wired to be accepted by the tribe. No one wants to be cast out or ostracized. It’s deep evolutionary programming: you’re either in, or you’re out. And back then, being out often meant fighting for your life.

But today, thankfully, we don’t live in such extremes. Being criticized doesn’t mean we’ll face death or exile. It just means someone disagrees with us.

In my last job, I often deferred to others to keep the peace. I’d hear a voice inside urging me to speak up — to share my opinion, even if it differed from others in the room. But I’d stay quiet. And I’d feel so frustrated with myself.

It was like a tug of war between two versions of me:

– the small one, who wanted to keep things smooth– and the larger, stronger one, who knew my opinion mattered too. That I was in the room for a reason. That people wanted to hear what I had to say, not just see a smiling face.

The small version almost always won.

Even when I did speak up, I could feel my heart race. It was like I was breaking some unspoken rule — even if all I was doing was suggesting a different color of a button.

I find myself doing that even here, in this newsletter. I often pull back. Edit. Shrink. Soften. I don’t want to offend. I don’t want to come across too strongly. I don’t want to bother anyone. And what’s the result?

I risk creating “motel art.”

You know the kind — the framed prints hanging in hotel lobbies or office buildings. Green hills, a still lake, maybe a sky with a few clouds. It’s nice. It’s pleasant. But it’s background noise. It’s not meant to make you feel. It’s meant to just belong.

I’m tired of simply belonging. I’m learning to give myself space to be BIG. To take a stance. To have an opinion — even when others disagree. To trust my instincts. To let that larger version of me have a voice. To stop listening to the whisper that says “shhh, don’t say that.”

So how am I doing it?

Through practice.

How else?

Like I’ve written so many times before: action comes first. Movement comes first. You have to do the thing long before you feel comfortable doing the thing. The comfort and confidence come later. If you wait for them to show up first, you’ll wait forever.

I’m starting with small things. Things that may sound silly, but they’re real:

– I ask for what I want at restaurants, even if I hear “no.”– I ask questions during doctor visits, even if I feel like the doctor is rushed.– I speak up about where I’d like to eat with a group.– I don’t always respond to texts right away — especially when I’m busy or just not in the headspace to engage.

These are small ways I’m learning that it’s okay to put myself first. That it’s okay to have preferences. To voice them. To say “this matters to me.”

And those small steps build the confidence to take bigger ones — Like speaking up in a room full of stakeholders. Like writing something in this newsletter that not everyone will agree with. Confidence is built through small, repeatable steps.

They build on each other. The momentum grows. Until eventually, it becomes unstoppable. The goal is growth. The goal is to move forward.

And one of the best ways to do that is to allow yourself to be BIG. To stop deferring. To stop pleasing everyone else at the cost of your own joy. To stop “keeping the peace” when the cost is your peace.

We’re allowed to have opinions. We’re allowed to speak up. We’re allowed to take up space.

And we absolutely should.