Who’s in Charge Here? When Self-Trust Feels like Arrogance.

Human beings are wildly adaptive. Shape-shifting, belonging-seeking, pattern-reading geniuses.

If you grew up—or trained, or worked—in systems where deference was expected or worthiness had to be earned, you may have survived or succeeded by making yourself small. You waited your turn. You followed the rules. You said the right thing at the right time, and you smiled.

You did wonderfully.

And now, when you try to speak with clarity or stand in your truth, it feels off. It feels arrogant. Too bold. Too much.

That’s not a character flaw. It’s conditioning.

For me, it shows up as hesitation. A pause between the intake of breath and the voicing of my own ideas. A millisecond where an inner voice says, “You’re not ready. You don’t know enough.”

If you habitually flatten the thoracic curve of your spine to “stand up straight,” letting it release backward feels like a slump. If you’ve spent your life outsourcing your own authority, speaking your truth can feel arrogant, presumptuous, or wrong.

In a moment of self-editing hesitation, a dear mentor once said to me, “Pretend you know.”

I took it as shorthand for speaking back to the inner critic: I do know enough. And I am ready.

It’s a way to remember that my perspective matters. My experience is valid. And I get to know things without waiting for permission.

I don’t do this perfectly all the time, but I can release myself from that too. Perfectionism is part of the old habit, holding me back by saying, “I can’t claim this until I never fail at it.”

It’s not about perfection.

It’s about awareness. Choice. Gentleness with ourselves. It’s about claiming who we want to be in this world—not just who our power structures find easiest to digest.

In my work now, this is often the turning point. Clients come wanting more ease—or less pain—in their bodies. And just beneath that is often a deeper desire: to trust what they sense. To honor what they know. To stand in their own experience, even when it feels unfamiliar.

If using your voice feels uncomfortable, you’re not alone. And you’re not wrong. You’re reclaiming what was always yours.

Ready to reclaim your voice—and your body—from old patterns?

Join my newsletter for gentle reflections, somatic tools, and posts like this one delivered to your inbox. Or reach out here to explore somatic coaching and how we can work together.