The Hidden Leadership Habit That Is Making You Smaller

The two words that quietly undermine more women than almost anything else aren't dramatic.

They're ordinary.

"I'm just."

In this episode, Meredith explores how seemingly innocent language can diminish your influence, weaken your leadership presence, and reinforce limiting beliefs about who you are.

Sharing personal stories from her own career journey, Meredith reveals the difference between humility and shrinking and explains why so many women unintentionally minimize their value.

If you've ever said "I'm just helping," "I'm just filling in," or "I'm just...", this episode will change how you hear yourself forever.

You'll Learn:

• Why language shapes leadership
• The difference between humility and shrinking
• How to recognize self-minimizing behavior
• Why capable women often struggle to own their contributions
• What to say instead of "I'm just"

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:01

There are two words I wish I could take back. Not because they're offensive, not because they're inappropriate. Because I had no idea how often I was saying them, or better yet, what they were costing me. I'm just helping. I'm just filling in. I'm just a part of a great team. I'm just the operations person. I'm just here to support others. I'm just. And the crazy part is nobody taught me to say those words. I picked them up somewhere along the way. And for years, I thought they sounded humble. What I eventually learned was that humility and shrinking are not the same thing. I'm Meredith Teasan, and this is the Rooted Leadership Podcast. Last I talked about really a room where I wasn't sure I belonged. The room where one question exposed a story I had been carrying for years. The story that somehow everyone else belonged in that room, but I didn't. After that season, I started paying attention to something. My own language. Not what I believed, not what I intended, what I actually said. And once I started listening, I could not unhear it. I was constantly minimizing myself, not dramatically, just quietly, almost invisibly, the way most women do. Someone would compliment my work. I would say, oh, I'm just helping out. Someone would ask about a project. Oh, I'm just supporting the team. They're doing everything. Someone would acknowledge something I had built. And I would say, oh, it was just everyone else. Now, none of those statements were lies. The team did contribute. I was helping, though. Other people mattered, but that's not what was really happening underneath those words. Underneath those words was fear. Fear of appearing arrogant, fear of taking up too much space, fear of the fact if I acknowledged what I carried, someone might challenge whether I deserved to carry it. There was a period in my career I will never forget. For years, I was the person people came to when they needed answers. I knew the operations, I knew the people, I knew where all the problems and skeletons lived. And I loved building leaders. I still do. It's one of my most favorite things. I trained people, developed people, coached people, helped people see the potential they couldn't see inside themselves. And more than once I watched those people get promoted into positions I wanted, into positions I was qualified for, into positions I was already doing pieces of. Now I wish I could tell you that I handled that beautifully. I didn't. There were moments when it hurt, moments when it confused me, moments when I went home and wondered, what was I missing? I remember thinking, I know this business, I know these people, I know this work. Why am I not the obvious choice? And for a long time, I asked the wrong question. I was asking, what do they have that I don't? Years later, I started asking a better question. What am I showing them? Because let me tell you, those are not the same question. What I was showing them was someone incredibly capable, but also someone constantly stepping back from ownership, someone constantly minimizing contribution, someone constantly introducing herself as support instead of leadership. Someone saying, I'm just. This was one of the hardest lessons I've ever had to learn because I genuinely thought I was being humble. I thought humility meant stepping back, deflecting credit, making myself smaller, keeping other people comfortable. Then one day I realized something. Humility doesn't require dishonesty. If you're carrying responsibility, you're carrying responsibility. If you're leading, you're leading. If you're accountable, you're accountable. Acknowledging that isn't arrogance, it's accuracy. The leaders I respect most don't pretend they're less than they are. They simply don't make everything about themselves. And there's a difference. Jesus never introduced himself by saying, I'm just. He knew who he was and he knew what he was called to do. And he served from a place of clarity, not confusion. The more I studied leadership, the more I realized that strong leaders don't shrink. They serve. And those aren't the same thing. So what do those two little words actually cost? More than most people realize. They cost visibility. People can't recognize what you've taken responsibility for if you keep hiding it. They cost opportunity because people tend to trust you at a level that you present yourself. And they cost impact because shrinking doesn't only affect you, it affects the people who need what you've been given. This became personal for me because I started thinking about all the rooms where I had held back, all the conversations where I softened the truth, all the times I reduced years of experience to, oh, I'm just helping. And I began wondering what would have happened if I had simply told the truth. Not an inflated version, not a polished version, just the truth. Now, before anyone misunderstands me, this is not about becoming louder. It's not about becoming self-promotional. It's not about turning yourself into someone who needs all the attention in the room. It's about telling the truth. Nothing more, nothing less. Instead of I'm just helping with this project, try, I'm leading this initiative. Instead of saying, oh, I'm just filling in, try, I'm responsible for this outcome. Instead of I'm just a support person, try, I oversee this area. Notice none of those statements are arrogant, they're simply honest. And leadership begins with honesty. And when honesty becomes stronger than fear, there's power there. So here's my question for you. What phrase do you use that makes you smaller? You already know what it is. It came to mind while I was talking. The sentence, the qualifier, the apology, the disclaimer, the thing that you say almost automatically. I want you to write it down. And I want you to pay attention to it this week. Don't judge it, just notice it. Because you can't change what you refuse to see. Next, I want to talk about something I chased for years: achievement, titles, success, and why none of them fixed what I thought they would. Because there is a difference between being successful and knowing who you are. And if you've ever wondered why accomplishments seem to satisfy you for about a week or maybe a month before the doubt comes back, that conversation is for you. Until then, don't shrink, don't settle, go be the woman another woman needs to see. And until then, live life rooted.