When Priya* got back in touch, I was genuinely pleased to hear from her. We’d worked together a couple of years earlier, during a time when she was stepping into a more senior role. Back then, I remember her being clear-headed, quietly confident, and fairly unapologetic about the kind of leadership she wanted to model — calm, thoughtful, and values-led, even if it meant slowing things down or being the awkward one in the room.
*Name changed — story shared with permission
So when she emailed to ask about picking up some coaching again, I assumed it was for the usual reasons — career direction, new team, maybe thinking about a move. But when we met, it was clear something had shifted.
She hadn’t crashed and there definitely wasn’t a crisis but she seemed… dimmed somehow.
“I’m still showing up. I’m still doing the job. But I don’t think people see me in the same way anymore. I don’t even think I do.”
The Slow Disappearance
Over the next couple of sessions, we pieced it together.
There hadn’t been a single moment when things changed. There wasn’t a blow-up meeting or a conflict with a manager. It was just a gradual fading of the version of her that used to be more deliberate, more questioning, more visible. I call it Shrinking and Priya described it as:
“Bit by bit, I’ve become easier to work with. More agreeable and less trouble. I feel like somewhere along the way, I stopped adding anything that felt properly mine.”
The bigger problem for Priya is that it felt like it was working because people did like working with her, she was praised for her calmness, her pragmatism, her reliability.
She’d become a sort of internal safe pair of hands but the cost was starting to show.
She wasn’t sure what she stood for anymore or if she’d even notice if she compromised something important — because it had been so long since she’d drawn a firm line.
Who She Used to Be
This was one of those times in coaching where I already had a benchmark. I’d seen her before, and that helped us both reflect more honestly.
Back when we first worked together, Priya was someone who would stop a team mid-sprint to ask if the work still made sense. She’d gently challenge a stakeholder on unrealistic expectations and, while she wasn’t loud, she was anchored.
Now, she said, she often found herself nodding along — even when something didn’t feel right. When we talked it through, she reflected that she had slowly learned that questioning things slowed people down. She told me about how over time she had been told a number of times that naming risks made her the “negative one.”
So she backed off. Not all at once, but incrementally.
“I thought I was being smart, adapting to the culture. But now I’m not sure there’s anything left of me in the way I lead.”
Reclaiming a Bit of Ground
We didn’t try to bounce back to the “old Priya” straight away.
Instead, we talked about whether there were still places in her work where she felt like herself. What parts of her job felt authentic, and which ones felt like she was playing a role.
For example the one-to-one conversations with her team — especially when she was mentoring someone or helping them think through a tough decision. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone or perform leadership — she was still showing up as herself.
Meanwhile, in the all-hands updates she found herself using language she didn’t really believe in, trying to sound upbeat and aligned, even though deep down she wasn’t sure the current direction made sense
There was no breakthrough moment. But there was a shift in posture — from “how do I get back to being me?” to “where might I already be?”
Over time, she started doing a few small things differently. Nothing dramatic — just little reclaims.
- She began preparing what she wanted to say in meetings, even if she didn’t get to say it all. That helped her notice whether she was truly holding back or just staying quiet out of habit.
- When deadlines felt rushed, she started asking one simple question: “What are we assuming will happen if we go slower?” Not a challenge, just curiosity. But it gave her space.
- She also reconnected with one of her newer team leads, someone she’d been coaching half-heartedly. She leaned back in, offered clearer support, and found that those interactions still lit her up.
These weren’t revolutionary, and in some cases they went unnoticed by others. But they mattered to her.
“It’s not like I’ve stepped back into my old self. It’s more like… I stopped letting the system erase me completely.”
A Familiar Pattern
If you’ve seen yourself in any of this, it’s important to realise that this isn’t about weakness as such.
Shrinking is a natural reaction to spending too long in a system where we are the ‘odd one out’.
And for some people, that shrinking happens faster.
Women and other minorities in the workplace often carry an extra layer of expectation — to be collaborative, not confrontational; to be flexible, not forceful; to conform.
The system doesn’t always say it out loud, but there is a gravitational pull back to the status quo and equilibrium. The system has a way of showing people what’s welcomed and what’s not and that means knocking the sharp edges off anyone different.
If you’re already one of the fewer voices in the room, you learn quickly which parts of yourself to turn down.
We rationalise that shrinking will make things easier, that it will protect our position, that it will smooth the road for the people around us. It’s a sensible adaptation but over time, it can become self-erasing.
You stop showing people what matters to you, and eventually they stop asking.
No Roar Required
What Priya needed wasn’t a career overhaul or a leadership masterclass. She just needed to hear herself again.
And that’s what Calm REBEL Leadership is really about.
It’s not about blowing things up or quitting in a blaze of glory.
It’s about spotting where you’ve drifted and finding a few places to bring yourself back…quietly and deliberately.
If that’s something you’re ready to explore — through coaching, a workshop, or simply by reading the book — then let’s talk.
Because you don’t have to roar but you do deserve to be heard.
