Speak Up. Take Space. Lead Now
By Sophie Makonnen
Your opinion matters—even if you're not the most senior in the room - Use your voice
It’s easy to second-guess ourselves in rooms where experience speaks loudly—especially when self-doubt or impostor feelings creep in because of age, experience level, or hierarchy. In many professional environments—especially those where expertise and structure are strongly valued—it can feel intimidating to raise your hand when you’re still finding your footing. But let me say this clearly: you don’t need to be the most senior person at the table to have something valuable to contribute.
This isn't just about confidence—though that helps. This is about owning your place, even when the hierarchy around you suggests you haven't “earned” it yet.
Because you bring something that matters—your insight, perspective, and lived experience. Staying silent—waiting until you feel fully seasoned or "ready"—only delays the leadership you're already capable of showing.
You don't gain credibility only by being the most knowledgeable or experienced; you build it by contributing.
The Myth of Readiness
We often tell ourselves, "Once I know more, have done more, or feel more confident, I'll speak up." But here's the thing: waiting for that moment can keep us stuck. The belief that you must feel completely prepared before stepping forward creates a false sense of safety that keeps far too many bright, capable people in the background.
In sectors where expertise is prized—like international development—it's easy to internalize the idea that only the most experienced voices deserve to be heard. But the truth is that growth and leadership take root when we step beyond our comfort zone. Confidence doesn't come first—it often follows action. I know it can feel like jumping into the unknown. But remember: you were recruited for a reason. You went through a rigorous selection process. You're not here by accident.
And sometimes, it's not even about feeling unprepared—it's about not recognizing how far we've come. We normalize our knowledge and take our skills for granted, forgetting that what feels "basic" to us might be valuable insight to others. When we're too close to our own experience, we underestimate it. That quiet doubt—the kind that whispers, "I haven't done enough yet"—can be more about perspective than truth.
If you've ever hesitated because things didn't feel "perfect," know that you're not alone. As I shared in my blog on high standards and letting go of perfectionism, we often confuse excellence with the need to do everything flawlessly. That mindset can make us wait for the elusive moment when we feel entirely ready. But perfection isn't the price of participation. Showing up as you are—learning as you go—is not only valid, it's necessary.
Taking action before you feel fully ready builds something even more valuable than certainty: it builds resilience. You stretch your capacity to navigate uncertainty each time you step forward despite the nerves. You're not just contributing—you're training yourself to adapt, grow, and lead through change.
Experience isn't always what comes before the opportunity. Often, it's what comes because you said yes anyway.
The Value You Bring (Even Without All the Years)
Speaking up in meetings or offering your perspective in a group of more experienced colleagues can feel intimidating. When you’re newer to the field or earlier in your career, it’s easy to assume that what you say carries less weight—that your contributions are “less valid” because they don’t come with decades of experience behind them.
However, experience, while important, is not the only kind of value. You bring something else—something organizations often desperately need but don’t always know how to name or invite.
You bring a fresh perspective.
You ask critical questions others may have stopped asking. You notice gaps and blind spots because you’re not yet fully conditioned to overlook them. You carry insights from the ground, from communities, and from lived experience. You bring cultural intuition, adaptability, and the ability to connect dots in ways others may not see.
Innovation doesn’t only come from seniority. It comes from perspective. And your voice, especially when paired with curiosity and preparation, can shift conversations, challenge assumptions, and introduce new ways of thinking.
So, if you’re holding back because you haven’t “been around long enough,” remember: time in a role doesn’t equal depth of insight. Your contribution matters now—not just someday. Make space for it. Let others see the value you bring, not despite your experience level—but because of everything else you carry.
Showing Up Before You Feel Ready
When you take that step—when you speak up or take action before you feel fully ready—you’re not just growing personally. You’re also showing others what you’re capable of. It’s about visibility. As I wrote in my blog on claiming your achievements, visibility is not a reward for good work—it’s part of the work. If you stay in your comfort zone, doing excellent work quietly, people may never see the full extent of your strengths. Your voice, your questions, your contributions—they’re what allow others to recognize your presence and your potential.
That said, this doesn’t mean you need to be loud or impulsive. Listening still matters—deeply. As I shared in my blog on listening, discernment is part of thoughtful leadership. Before speaking up, take time to understand the context. Is this the right space, the right time, the right subject? That reflection is not caution—it’s care. What we’re trying to quiet isn’t your good judgment—it’s the small, overcritical inner voice that says you’re not ready or you don’t belong. That’s the voice we don’t want to lead.
As Tara Mohr writes in Playing Big, “The inner critic’s voice is often harsh, shaming, and filled with ‘you should’ or ‘you shouldn’t.’ Its tone is anxious and controlling.” That voice tends to show up right when you’re about to grow—not because you’re unprepared, but because you’re stretching into something meaningful. Naming it helps you step into your power rather than shrink from it.
Practice matters. That leap outside your comfort zone won’t always be smooth—and that’s okay. You might stumble. You might need to regroup. But each step you take builds visibility, confidence, and resilience. You’re not just proving something to others—you’re proving to yourself that you can show up with clarity, courage, and care.
It’s also worth saying that we take more risks when we feel safe. In environments where we feel respected, supported, and free to make mistakes without shame, it’s much easier to raise our hands, share an idea, or challenge an idea. That’s not a sign of more substantial confidence—it's more about the environment, which feels safer. If you’ve spoken up more in some rooms than others, it may not be you—it may be the space.
When Readiness Becomes a Decision
I’ve experienced this tension between not feeling ready and being encouraged to step up. The learning curve was steep when I stepped into my first team leadership role, overseeing development operations and coordinating with government counterparts and internal teams across headquarters. I was juggling multiple responsibilities and being assigned more and more work—the classic “If you want something done, give it to a busy person” situation.
At one point, a more senior leadership role opened up. Several colleagues told me, “You should go for it.” But I told them, “I’m not ready.” They insisted I was—but I held back. And honestly? I didn’t regret it. When the person who stepped into the role came on board, I felt affirmed in my decision. I truly wasn’t ready—yet.
Fast forward two or three years. A similar leadership role became available. Again, colleagues nudged me, saying, “You’d be great in this.” And this time, something had shifted. I still had doubts—I was scared and thought I didn’t meet all the requirements (sounds familiar?)—but I trusted myself more, even while operating outside my comfort zone. So I went for it. I got the job. And it turned out to be a stepping stone for the role that came after—a position I also felt unprepared for in many ways.
I didn’t have two or three years to build confidence then—I had 18 months. Indeed, when the next opportunity came, I jumped. And to be honest? I felt ill-prepared. But I said yes anyway. By then, I had learned that readiness isn’t always about ticking every box. Sometimes, it’s about being willing to step in and grow in the role—not before it, but through it.
Everyone’s Too Busy Wondering If They Sound Smart
Sometimes, staying quiet or holding back isn’t just about not feeling confident or striving for perfection. It’s about something more profound—and quieter: the fear of being judged. We hesitate to speak up because we worry about how we’ll come across—whether our ideas are “good enough,” sound naive or be misunderstood. And so, we choose silence. Not because we have nothing to say but because saying it feels like a risk.
But here’s the irony: most people aren’t paying as much attention to us as we think—they’re busy managing their self-doubt. Many silently wonder how they’re perceived in meetings, presentations, or group discussions. That means the pressure we imagine is on us, usually isn’t.
And yes—some people judge. People who gossip, thrive on comparison, or feel powerful by making others feel small. Every workplace has them, especially in high-pressure, hierarchical environments. But here’s the truth: those people will find something to critique no matter what you do. You could be quiet or bold, over-prepared or still learning—and they’ll still have something to say.
So whether no one’s watching—or someone is judging—you may as well speak up anyway. Because when you hold back out of fear, you’re giving more space to your doubts than your values. Your voice deserves to lead—not your inner critic and certainly not someone else’s assumptions.
In a way, that’s freeing. It permits us to try things, speak imperfectly, and show up even when unsure. Because the people we fear judgment from? They’re often caught up in their internal criticism, too.
So, instead of letting the fear of being seen keep you invisible, remember this: you don’t need to wait until you’re flawless or fearless to participate. You need to be present and willing to contribute anyway.
I’m not sharing this as an abstract idea, but from experience. I’ve had moments when I stayed quiet, sure that what I thought wasn’t relevant—or worse, that it might sound foolish. And then someone else would say it, and suddenly, it was relevant. I missed an opportunity—not just to be heard but to trust my instincts.
And I’ve also had moments when I spoke up, even with a racing heart or a shaky voice (well in my opinion it was…..) and some of those moments shifted the room. I can still remember them as I write these lines, reminders that the voice you almost didn’t use can be the one that makes a difference.
It’s Not Only About Experience – It’s About Contribution
Take a moment. Think about the last time you held back from sharing something in a meeting, conversation, or decision-making space. What stopped you? Was it fear of being wrong, or the belief that you hadn’t earned the right to speak yet?
It’s easy to assume that we need more years, titles, or experience before taking up space. But often, it’s not the experience we’re missing, it’s permission. And here’s the truth: no one else can give you that permission. You don’t need more time in the role to start showing what you’re capable of.
You don’t have to wait until you feel fully ready. You can begin with small actions, allowing others to see your insight, thinking, and presence.
Here are a few ways to start:
Ask one question in a meeting where you’d normally stay quiet.
Share an idea even if it’s still forming—it’s not about having all the answers.
Speak early instead of holding back until everything sounds polished.
Notice when you’re holding back because of hierarchy, not actual hesitation.
Support someone else’s contribution out loud. It builds voice, connection, and confidence.
You don’t need to wait for more experience to be seen.
“Speak your mind—even if your voice shakes.” — Maggie Kuhn