Kitija Ozolina · Awareness Mentor for Mothers
The Habit of Making Yourself Smaller (And How to Notice It)
It's not always about self-esteem. Sometimes it's loyalty. Taking up space felt unsafe, or like betrayal.
You are more capable than the space you take up. You know it. But something keeps making you smaller. In rooms. In relationships. In the way you speak about yourself.
This is what that is about.
If you recognise this in yourself, you're allowed to. That is all this is. recognition.
It does not mean you are weak. It does not mean you lack confidence. It often means you learned. very early, very well. that being smaller kept the peace. Kept the love. Kept you safe in rooms where taking up space had consequences.
Why women learn it.
Some of it is what we are taught directly. Don't be too loud. Don't take too much. Be agreeable. Make it easy for everyone. Don't be difficult.
Some of it is what we absorbed without being told. Watching what happened when a woman in our family took up space. in her opinion, in her needs, in her anger. Seeing how that landed. Filing that information away as: safer not to.
And some of it. this is the part that surprised me. is loyalty. If the people around you were small, claiming more space can feel like a betrayal. Like you are rising while they stay. Like you think you're better. Like you're leaving them.
So you hold yourself in. Not because you lack confidence. Because you love them. Because staying small felt like staying close.
That is not weakness. That is a very old, very understandable kind of loyalty that has outlived the situation that created it.
Five moments you might catch yourself doing it.
Not every one will be yours. But some will feel familiar.
You lower your voice mid-sentence
You started with something to say. Halfway through you felt the room. You finished quieter.
You add "sorry" before asking for something
Not because you did something wrong. Just. pre-apology. In case the asking itself is too much.
You downplay something good that happened
"Oh it was nothing really." "I just got lucky." You say it before anyone else can.
You take up less physical space than you need
Shoulders in. Elbows tucked. Making yourself smaller in the chair. In the room. In the conversation.
You trail off when you feel uncertain of how you're landing
The sentence doesn't finish. You let it hang there so they can decide how much of it to take.
What the alternative actually looks like.
It is not about becoming loud. Or bold. Or someone who takes more than she needs.
It is more like. finishing the sentence. Saying the thing and letting it land without immediately softening it. Describing something that happened without adding "but it was probably nothing" at the end.
It is asking for something without apologising first. Holding an opinion for a moment before checking how the room feels about it.
Small things. Quiet things. The kind no one else would notice from the outside.
But you would notice. Because it would feel slightly uncomfortable. Slightly exposed. And also. if you stay with it. slightly more like yourself.
I still catch myself shrinking. I probably always will, to some degree. But I catch it now. And sometimes. not always, but sometimes. I finish the sentence anyway.
You were never too much. You were in a room that was too small.
There is a difference. And it matters which one you believe.
In which room do you make yourself smallest, and do you know why?
With love, Kitija 🤍
If saying no is the part that is hard, The Quiet No goes into it properly.
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