Why you actually like playing small…

Have you been toying with the idea of stepping into your power? Maybe you’ve been thinking about quitting your job to pursue your passion, or getting on stage to sing at open mic, or maybe you’ve been dreaming about asking out the office cutie but always shy away. 

We love to talk about playing it big- the things we’d love to do, the space we’d love to take up, the life we’d boldly live if x, y, z wasn’t in the picture. 

What if I told you, there’s a reason you aren’t going after your desires? And it’s not what you think… 

The reason you’re playing small isn’t just fear or self-sabotage, it’s because you actually like it!

You like playing small because: 

1. You get to have less responsibility

Responsibility SUCKS! Who want’s that shit? 

I just want to lay around in the sunshine, being fed grapes, listening to the birds in my garden. Don’t you? I want to be where I want, when I want, and do things how I want. I was given managerial roles and opportunities to step up in my career, but I often turned them down or would fuck them up and be let go. Even though I wanted to do and be more, I really didn’t want the responsibility. 

When you start playing big you don’t just get the rewards—you get the weight of it all. When you start playing big, you can’t hide behind “I don’t know” or “I’m just figuring it out.” You become the one making the decisions, holding the vision, carrying the risks. And if you’re used to dodging responsibility, that can feel like a trap instead of an opportunity.

Because responsibility isn’t just about workload—it’s about ownership. Owning your power. Owning your choices. Owning the fact that if you fail, there’s no one else to blame.

But here’s the thing: avoiding responsibility also means avoiding real freedom. You can’t be the sovereign ruler of your life while also refusing to take the throne. 

2. You get to avoid embarrassment 

If you step up and ask your crush out, ask for a raise, or do the unthinkable- you’re faced with potential for some pretty get-wrenching embarrassment. No, thank you.

When I started reclaiming my voice after a decade of silencing myself, I physically struggled to speak. Think stage fright, but in every single semi-uncomfortable conversation—palms sweating, heart pounding, my whole body on high alert like I was about to be thrown into a gladiator ring. Sometimes, I’d feel like I was literally going to pee myself just for daring to say something real.

If I wanted to share an opinion that opposed someone else’s, call someone out for crossing a boundary, or even own my innate gifts and knowledge, I would freak. Because what if I said the wrong thing? What if I looked stupid? What if people decided I wasn’t worth listening to?

And that’s the real reason playing small feels so damn comfortable. It keeps you from having to risk rejection.

Taking up space brings attention- praise, yes, but also criticism, expectation, and pressure. When you play small, you get to avoid the weight of being truly seen. No one can judge the work you never put out into the world. No one can reject the version of that never fully shows up. 

You like staying small because it feels like that old, cozy sweater you’ve had since college, comfortable and familiar. But deep down, you know you’ve outgrown it. Expansion demands risk. And the longer you stay wrapped up in comfort, the more suffocating it becomes. 

3. You get to be the “good-doer”

Who wants to be the bad guy? Not me…

I grew up watching people with money, influence, and power use them for all the wrong reasons- funding destructive causes, manipulating the masses, hoarding resources while entire communities suffered. I saw greed devour the earth, unchecked ambition fuel exploitation, and the loudest voices drown out the ones that truly needed to be heard. 

So, I did the opposite. I stayed small. My white guilt, middle-class privilege, and well-educated ass was taking the back seat so that others could thrive. And I felt really good about that. I was selfless and no one could tell me otherwise. 

But at some point, others thriving came at a cost- my survival. I could barely afford my moldy apartment, much less could I afford to eat decent food. I felt like a queen with my SNAP card in hand. I was forced to ask the hard questions: was I really being selfless? Or was I just afraid of what it would mean to take up space? 

Many of us, especially women and marginalized folks, were conditioned to believe that wanting more is greedy, that ambition is only admirable when it’s in service to others. We were taught that power corrupts, money changes people, and being humble means being small. 

But shrinking doesn’t make you more worthy. It only keeps you from fully living. 

Your bigness, your brilliance, your desires- they were never selfish. They were always meant to be shared. 

4. You get to stay in control 

Bitch, I love control.

I know where every step is taking me, the outcome of every conversation, and exactly how I’m going to feel in any given situation. It’s the best.

After years of chaos—abusing substances, sleeping around, spiraling completely out of control—all I wanted was to hold the reins. I didn’t want to wake up in some stranger’s bed, heart pounding with regret. I didn’t want to be the person who never showed up on time because I was still coming down from last weekend’s cocktail of pills and powder. I didn’t want to live in a constant state of dread, knowing I'd have to clean up the messes I made in my reckless negligence. I couldn’t handle not having control.

So I straightened myself out. I gripped control like a lifeline, structured my world so tightly that there was no room for surprises. And for a while, it felt amazing. No unknowns, no risks, no waking up in the ruins of last night’s bad decisions. I knew what was around every corner, and I liked it that way.

But here’s the thing about control—it’s also a cage.

At first, it felt safe. But then? It started to feel small. Predictable. Boring. And there were dreams inside of me that control couldn’t make happen—dreams that required risk, uncertainty, and stepping into the unknown.

The truth is, the bigger you go, the less control you have. Over how you’re perceived. Over the outcome of your risks. Over whether people love what you create or tear it apart.

Growth demands uncertainty. It requires you to step into spaces where you might not be the expert, where things might go wrong, where you might not have every answer.

Playing small means keeping control. It means no surprises, no disappointments, no uncomfortable learning curves. It keeps things manageable. But it also keeps things mediocre.

Honestly, I don’t believe playing big is for everyone. So the question is- are you ready to relinquish control, fall on your face, carry all the weight, and be the bad guy in someone’s story?

Because, honey, you can’t have it all…