Stop Playing Small: The Truth About Being Seen and Heard
It’s not just fear of judgment—it’s a deep, unspoken wound. Here’s how to heal it and step into your power.
The Fear That Keeps You Small
You’ve felt it, haven’t you? That hesitation. That tightness in your chest. The moment you go to hit “post,” speak your truth, or even open up to someone close to you—and your body screams, “Nope. Not today.”
This doesn’t just apply to authors or artists. It shows up everywhere—as a writer, a creator, at work, even in your close and romantic relationships. Anytime you’re about to put yourself out there, that fear creeps in. It’s not just resistance. It’s something deeper. The biggest fear surfaces when people see you in your truest form, raw and unfiltered, and respond with judgment, rejection or abandonment. It’s what I call the fear that keeps you small.
And let me tell you, it’s more common than you think.
Why You’re Afraid to Be Seen
The phenomena extends beyond social media presence and personal branding as a creator. Many of the stories we absorbed throughout our childhood shape who we are today.
We complied with demands to remain silent by learning to self-censor ourselves.
If you were only praised for being perfect, you learned to hide your messy truth.
If you saw others get torn down for standing out, you learned to stay small.
And, please read very carefully: If you were not praised at all for your achievements, you might as well keep hiding.
Now, as adults, we carry that fear forward, into our work, our relationships, and letting it overshadow our dreams. We tell ourselves: “I need to be more polished.” “I need more followers first.” “I’m not ready yet.” “I need to be better…more…different…someone else…“
But none of that is true. It’s just your nervous system trying to protect you from a threat that no longer exists.
The Moment I Saw My Own Fear
Putting myself out there on Substack’s Notes has been one of the most honest challenges I’ve faced, and keep facing. It’s not just about writing them, it’s about showing up as the person I am, without the filters or polish. That kind of openness? It’s not easy. Most people stay hidden behind curated versions of themselves, but I’ve realized there’s something powerful in stepping into the light.
When I shared my story in The Stories We Hide: Why Vulnerability Is The Ultimate Superpower, it wasn’t just about writing, it was about living it. I talked about my dad’s suicide, the grief that shaped me, and the years it took to untangle that pain. As you probably imagine, sharing that wasn’t comfortable. But it was freeing. And the responses? People didn’t just read it—they connected with it. They reached out to me in DMs, and comments. When people recognized their own stories within mine we formed a bond that expanded beyond myself. That’s what keeps me going.
Vulnerability goes beyond oversharing or making dramatic displays because it establishes a space for others to experience recognition and understanding.
Every time I share something that feels a little scary, I’m reminded: courage isn’t about being fearless. It’s about showing up, even when it’s hard, and trusting that connection will follow.
The Lie We’ve All Believed
The fear of being seen is rooted in a lie: “If they see the real me, I won’t be loved.”
But the truth? Being seen doesn’t mean being exposed. It means being revealed. It means showing up as you are—messy, imperfect, and real—and trusting that the right people will connect with you because of it, not in spite of it.
Why Visibility Is the Gateway to Everything You Desire
The goal here is not to become an influencer or to accumulate likes. It’s about owning your identity as a creator. Because creators change the world.
Your next client, your next opportunity, your next breakthrough—they’re not waiting for you to be perfect. They’re waiting for you to be real.
Every time you post, you’re not just creating content—you’re reclaiming your voice.
Every time you show your face, you’re not just growing your brand—you’re rewiring your nervous system to believe it’s safe to be seen.
Every time you speak your truth, you’re healing generations of silence.
How to Start Healing the Fear
If this resonates with you, here’s what I want you to do:
Start Small: Share something vulnerable—a story, a thought, a moment that feels real to you. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be honest.
Reframe Visibility: Stop thinking of it as self-promotion. Think of it as service. When you share your truth, you give others permission to do the same.
Take the Next Brave Step: Whether it’s hitting “post,” recording a video, or speaking up in a meeting—do the thing that scares you. Because what you fear and don’t face controls you. But what you fear and face? That’s where freedom lives.
Final Words
The fear that keeps you small is real. But so is your power to overcome it.
This isn’t about performance—it’s about presence. It’s about showing up, not for validation, but for liberation.
So, let’s stop hiding. Let’s turn platforms into portals. Let’s use our voices, not to impress, but to inspire.
Because the world doesn’t need more perfection. It needs more truth. And your truth? It’s the medicine someone out there is waiting for.
It’s time to take the next step. Reach out, comment, DM and join me in creating a space where your truth becomes your brand and your voice becomes your superpower.
I am in my second month on Substack. Every time I post, I have to overcome self-doubt and anxiety. I guess I am struggling with a bit of impostor syndrome, especially after seeing all the intelligent and accomplished people here. It’s difficult, but I post anyway.
I’ve just been mulling over this very thing discussed in your post. I realised I probably could have been an Oscar winner having spent my life as an actor every single day and not being the real me for fear that people wouldn’t like the real me. I’ll be the people pleaser, the outrageous bonhomie, the quiet introvert but few ever get to see me. To no honest, I’m still not sure who that is but maybe messy real me is better than half a century of pretending. It’s very wearing for starters.