False Humility: The Sneaky Self-Sabotage Keeping You Small

A few weeks ago, I caught myself doing something I thought I had outgrown—downplaying my own success.

I had worked hard on a project [the adhd e course], put in the time, the energy, the late nights, and when someone complimented me, I shrugged it off. “Oh, it wasn’t that big of a deal,” I said, even though it absolutely was!! Who was I kidding?

The thing is, I wanted the recognition. I wanted to be seen for what I had built.

But for most of my life, I’d had a habit of dimming my own light, brushing off compliments, and making myself smaller.

Sound familiar?

I see this all the time in my work as a coach—especially with women who’ve been conditioned to believe that celebrating themselves is somehow too much.

Whether it's dismissing praise, holding back in meetings, or only sharing an idea once it's perfect, this pattern runs deep. And it’s not humility. It’s self-erasure.

False Humility vs. Real Humility

False humility isn’t about being modest—it’s about self-protection.

It’s the reflex to shrink yourself, not because you genuinely believe in staying humble, but because somewhere along the way, you learned that taking up space was risky.

That being proud of yourself was arrogant. That if you stood out, you’d be knocked down.

It’s a learned behavior, especially for those raised as girls.

Women, especially women of color, are taught to be likable before they are encouraged to be visible.

We learn to soften our voices, apologize for things that aren’t our fault, and tread lightly so we don’t come across as too loud, too opinionated, or too confident.

For bipoc women, it’s even more layered—navigating stereotypes of being too aggressive or too emotional means many of us learn to overcorrect. We perfect. We overachieve.

We hide parts of ourselves to avoid judgment, rejection, or worse—actual danger.

And if you add ADHD into the mix? That’s a whole extra layer of internalized not enoughness—the fear of being too scattered, too inconsistent, too impulsive.

So we compensate. We overwork. We make sure everything is flawless before we let anyone see it.

False humility isn’t just a social habit—it’s a cage.

What False Humility Costs Us

This isn’t just about self-esteem. Minimizing yourself has real consequences!

• It fuels imposter syndrome. If you keep telling yourself you’re just lucky, you’ll start believing it.

• It feeds perfectionism. If you’re afraid to be seen until your work is flawless, you might never share it at all.

• It keeps you playing small. If you won’t own your voice, your wins, or your brilliance, you rob yourself—and the world—of what you have to offer.

I know this firsthand.

I spent years hiding a huge part of my life—my love for travel.

I grew up in a family that traveled internationally every year; several times.

By the time I was in high school, I had already been to over 20 countries. But I quickly learned that talking about it made people check out, roll their eyes, or assume I was bragging.

So I stopped sharing.

Even as an adult, when friends would introduce me by casually mentioning that I had been to dozens of countries, I’d downplay it.

Oh, it’s not a big deal. Just something I like to do.

I minimized something that was a core part of who I was because I feared how others would perceive it. Would perceive, me.

And that’s the thing about false humility—it makes us reject ourselves before the world even gets the chance.

Breaking the Pattern

So how do we stop? How do we unlearn the habit of shrinking ourselves?

1. Own Your Wins—Out Loud.

The next time someone gives you a compliment, resist the urge to deflect. Instead of saying, Oh, it was nothing, try Thank you. I worked really hard on that. It might feel uncomfortable at first, but sit with that discomfort. Say it anyway.

2. Share Before You’re Ready.

If perfectionism keeps you from speaking up, challenge yourself to share something at 80% done. Let people see your process, not just your polished final product. Authenticity resonates more than perfection ever will.

3. Take Up Physical Space.

Uncross your arms. Stand tall. Breathe deeply. Let your voice carry. These micro-adjustments send a signal to your nervous system: It’s safe to be seen right now.

4. Reframe Significance.

Taking up space doesn’t mean you think you’re better than—it means you recognize that you matter. Your voice, your ideas, your experiences—they all have value.

For women/of color, this unlearning is ancestral.

Our grandmothers and great-grandmothers often had to make themselves small for survival. But we don’t have to carry that weight forward.

In fact, the suppression of our voices and emotions have real physical consequences. There’s a direct connection between the throat and the womb—research even links underactive thyroids to unexpressed anger.