Ever found yourself in a meeting and said something like, “I’m not sure if this makes sense, but…” or “This might be a stupid question…” or “Sorry, just wanted to add…”?
I have. More times than I’d like to admit. And lately I am noticing it in other women.
And here’s the thing—I know what I am saying has value. But I am softening it, shrinking it, putting disclaimers around it. And I started to wonder: Why am I apologizing for having a voice?
Say What?
For women in leadership, self-censorship can become second nature. We learn—sometimes explicitly, often silently—that being clear can be perceived as cold, that being direct might come across as difficult, and that if we’re confident, we risk being labeled assertive. We don’t want to be “too much!”
So we cushion our contributions. We say “just” to minimize. We say “sorry” to smooth. We say “I think” instead of “I know.”
And while these habits might feel polite or safe, they often undermine our contribution. We have discounted the value of what we have to say even before we say. We expect others to put value behind our words when we are sharing them in a diminished way. Why do we give away our power before we even start the sentence?
So What?
Not long ago, I was in a leadership meeting where a new initiative was being proposed. I had legitimate concerns about the rollout and knew the team would benefit from slowing down the timeline. But when I opened my mouth, here’s what came out:
“Sorry—I don’t want to be the one holding things up, but I’m thinking we might want to just take another look at the implementation timeline, it seems aggressive to me?”
The feedback I got? “Thanks, but we need to move forward.” I had softened the truth so much that my actual message got lost.
Later, someone else, a male co-worker, raised the exact same concern—clearly and confidently. This time, it landed. It shifted the conversation. The timeline was revised.
That moment stuck with me. This was not the first time that I made a suggestion that was dismissed and shortly after a male counterpart made the same suggestion and it was lauded and taken forward. As I started replaying these instances, I decided that others were not ignoring me – I was ignoring myself. I realized I had diluted my own voice in an attempt to make it more acceptable. More likable. More “not too much.” And the result was, my concern was muted and not heard. This got me thinking:
Why wasn’t I heard? Is it because I am female? What is not working with the way I am saying things?
Then What?
I always choose a word of the year—something to guide my personal growth and focus. But this year, I reframed it. I didn’t just pick a word. I chose a magazine title. One that would define the energy, the style, the tone of everything I wanted to stand for. Like Vogue or Newsweek signals what’s inside, my word would be the cover of how I show up in the world.
My title for the year? Fearless.
Now, when I find myself shrinking, settling, or hesitating to speak up, I revisit that title. I ask myself: What would the headline say if I used my voice?
- “Woman finds life balance by setting healthy boundaries at work.”
- “Female leader creates new opportunities by proposing bold corporate strategy.”
For me, being fearless doesn’t mean being loud or forceful. It means speaking from a place of authenticity—with clarity, courage, and alignment to my values. It means trusting that my voice has value, even when it’s not wrapped in perfection or approval.
I have started paying attention to the words I used—especially in high-stakes conversations. I started noticing words that others use and don’t use. I made a list of words to eliminate. A list of “say this not that.”
And I started practicing speaking up without apology. Not unkindly. Not harshly. But clearly. Confidently. As someone who has earned her seat at the table.
Here’s what helped me start changing the habit:
1. Replace Apologies with Gratitude
Instead of: “Sorry for the interruption…” Say: “Thanks for making space for me to jump in.”
Instead of: “Sorry, I just want to add…” Say: “I’d like to add something here.”
2. Drop the Minimizers
Watch for the “justs,” “I thinks,” and “maybes.” Before: “I just think maybe we should try something else.” After: “I recommend we explore another approach.”
Clean, clear, and unapologetic.
3. Prepare One Confident Sentence
When I know I’m heading into a meeting where I’ll be sharing something important, I list out three concepts I want to share. I write out how I could share these concepts. Then I practice saying these statements—aloud—before the meeting. It sets my tone. It grounds my energy. I go into the meeting a clear intention of how to participate.
4. Catch Yourself—Then Course-Correct
Even now, I sometimes catch myself padding a statement. When I do, I stop and say: “Actually, let me rephrase that.” Then I say it the way I mean it. It’s not a failure—it’s a muscle. And I’m still building it.
Now What?
If any of this sounds familiar—if you’ve found yourself apologizing for your presence, your ideas, or your voice—you’re not alone. But you are in charge of the story you tell through your language.
So here’s your gentle invitation: Start paying attention. Catch the moments you soften your voice to fit in. And practice showing up with your full voice, even if your hands are shaking when you do it.
You don’t have to shout. You don’t have to dominate. But you do get to speak with confidence. With clarity. With conviction. Because what you have to say matters.
And the room—the table, the team, the world—is better when you bring your full voice to it.