Sis, Who’s Shrinking? Not Me… Anymore

You know those moments when something just clicks, and it feels like someone has put into words exactly what you’ve been feeling? That happened to me when I came across a quote on Substack recently:

“It’s really affirming to know that when I’m being my true self, the engagement comes naturally. It’s great to connect with people who truly vibe with what I’m sharing!”

Michelle Dixon, Ph.D.

Reading that felt like someone had reached into my mind and said everything I didn’t even know I needed to hear. It reminded me of how much I used to question if I was doing enough. I would constantly wonder, “Am I showing up the way people expect me to? Should I tone this down? Or maybe play that up?”

I’m new to Substack, and at first, I wrestled with the idea of promoting my writing on Instagram or Threads. Part of me thought, “Isn’t that just what you do?” But something inside me held back. I wanted to let my work stand on its own, to grow organically. I wanted to show up exactly as I am—no filters, no strategizing. And honestly, I’m so glad I did.

It’s been freeing to realize that I don’t have to fit into some box or mold. The people who connect with my writing are here because they resonate with me—the real me. It feels priceless to know that the engagement I’m seeing isn’t forced. It’s just happening, naturally, because I’m showing up as myself. But let me tell you, this isn’t something I’ve always known or embraced. It’s something I had to learn through my experiences—through navigating spaces where showing up as myself wasn’t always easy.

This is me—now, and in Target per usual. Confident, unapologetic, and done playing small.

I remember a few years ago, just being my normal self at work—confident, put-together, and not afraid to speak my mind. I’ve always been that way. But at this job, people started labeling me. They’d call me things like a “Southern belle” or say I was “dramatic” or “extra.” And don’t even get me started on bougie—a word I heard all the time, even though no one could ever explain what they really meant by it.

At first, I tried to brush it off as playful teasing. But over time, those comments stopped feeling lighthearted and started to feel more like backhanded insults. It was as if suddenly, just by being myself, I was too much—too confident, too outspoken, too... me.

What really got to me was that I noticed other people could say or do the same things I did, and no one batted an eye. But when it came from me? It was like I’d crossed some invisible line. The whole vibe would change, and suddenly, I was the one being called “over the top.” It was strange because outside of work, with my friends and family, I never felt that way. I was just me, and that was more than enough. No one made me feel like I had to shrink to fit in.

But at work, I felt like I was constantly walking on eggshells. Little by little, I started to pull back, shrinking just to make everyone else more comfortable. And let me tell you, that’s exhausting.

You know that feeling, right? When you’re constantly second-guessing yourself, afraid that one wrong move or one bold statement might rub someone the wrong way? But here’s the thing—I realized none of it was really about me. Their reactions were about them. I’ve had people straight-up call me intimidating, and when I’d ask why, they’d shrug and say, “I don’t know, it’s just something about you.”

Something about me? Really? What they actually meant was that my confidence made them uncomfortable. The fact that I dressed professionally, walked with my head held high, and owned my space—it unsettled them. I didn’t get it at first. It was frustrating, and honestly, it hurt. I spent a lot of time (okay, more like several sessions) talking through it with my therapist because I couldn’t understand why just being myself was such an issue.

These red nails are always “extra” and I’m here for it. Because why tone down what makes me feel powerful?

But eventually, I realized that their discomfort wasn’t my problem to solve. It wasn’t my job to shrink myself to make them feel better about who they were. Their reactions had nothing to do with who I am and everything to do with how my presence made them feel. Maybe it was their own insecurity. Maybe they were projecting their limitations onto me. Whatever it was, it wasn’t mine to carry.

But it took time to reach that understanding. For a while, I did feel like I had to shrink myself to fit in. I started questioning everything—Am I talking too much? Am I being too confident? Should I downplay my personality to make other people more comfortable? It felt like I was constantly tiptoeing around, worried about how I was being perceived. And that wears on you after a while.

The more I shrank, the more disconnected I felt from myself. It’s hard to show up as your true self when you’re always worried about being “too much” or “not enough” all at the same time.

The thing is, it wears you down after a while—constantly shrinking, constantly second-guessing, afraid to fully show up as yourself. You start wondering if maybe there’s something wrong with you. But there’s nothing wrong with being confident or outspoken. There’s nothing wrong with owning your space, and I had to remind myself of that.

At some point, I just got tired of walking on eggshells. Tired of tiptoeing around other people’s discomfort. I realized that dimming my light wasn’t serving anyone, least of all myself. And, honestly, what’s the point? No matter how much I shrank or softened myself, there was always going to be someone who didn’t like it. So why not just be me?

That’s when things started to shift for me. I stopped caring so much about the judgments and the labels. I stopped shrinking. And I started showing up fully, unapologetically, as myself.

It’s like I finally realized what I had been missing out on—this sense of freedom that comes when you stop letting other people’s expectations dictate your actions.

It’s taken years to unlearn the idea that I needed to shrink to be accepted or to fit neatly into other people’s boxes. But now, I know that showing up as myself—fully, authentically—is enough.

And it’s liberating.

Bell Hooks taught me that true love starts with self-acceptance—no shrinking allowed.

Now, I’ve come full circle. Showing up as my true self has led to more genuine connections and a greater sense of peace than I could have ever imagined. I don’t worry about playing a role or trying to live up to other people’s expectations anymore. It’s just me—and that’s enough.

It feels amazing to connect with people who resonate with my authenticity, not because I’ve curated some perfectly packaged version of myself, but because they see me, flaws and all, and they vibe with that. I’ve learned that I don’t need to change who I am to be worthy of connection, success, or respect.

The more I show up as myself, the more I realize that being authentic is the greatest gift I can give—not just to the world, but to myself. So here’s to being ourselves, unapologetically. Because at the end of the day, that’s more than enough.