The first time I stopped making myself small

A gentle reflection on the quiet ways we learn to shrink ourselves and the moment we realise we’re allowed to take up space again. An invitation to understand the patterns shaping our relationships and our sense of self.

Danae

12/11/20254 min read

There are moments in life that don’t look dramatic from the outside…
but inside, they quietly shape the way we learn to exist.

Like many children, I tried to make sense of a world that felt bigger than me.
And in that attempt, I developed certain strategies not because anyone intended harm, not because love was absent, but simply because every family, in its own way, passes on patterns without realising it.

For me, one of those patterns was shrinking myself.
Not physically, but emotionally.
I learned to stay quiet, to anticipate needs, to avoid adding weight to what already felt heavy around me.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault.
It was just the way my younger self understood how to stay connected, how to feel safe, how to keep peace in moments that felt overwhelming.

Children adapt in extraordinary ways.
We make ourselves small without being asked, simply because we believe that’s how love stays stable.
And later, as adults, we often continue these old strategies long after they’ve stopped being necessary.

This is not a story of blame.
It’s a story of how tender and intelligent our survival instincts can be, and how beautifully they evolve when we begin to understand them.

The moment it changed

I wish I could say it was a single, clear moment something cinematic, something decisive.
But it wasn’t.

It was gradual.
It happened in the quiet spaces.

It happened the first time I allowed myself to speak without rehearsing my words.
The first time I said “no” without apologising.
The first time I felt seen by someone who didn’t need me to perform or over-give to be lovable.
The first time I realised that love built on fear is not love it’s survival.

Little by little, I expanded.
Not loudly.
Just… truthfully.

I felt myself taking up space in conversations, in relationships, in the smallest decisions of daily life.
It wasn’t confidence yet just permission.
Permission to exist without shrinking.

That was the beginning of coming home to myself.

What I learned

I learned that making ourselves small is not a personality trait.
It’s a protective strategy one that often starts in childhood.

We shrink when:
• love feels unpredictable
• we fear rejection
• we become the peacemaker
• we learn that our needs are “too much”
• we grew up scanning for emotional danger
• or we were valued more for our usefulness than for our being

But the truth is this:
you don’t have to earn space... you already belong here.

Unlearning this takes time, compassion and a lot of gentleness.
But it’s possible.
Beautifully possible.

Why I’m sharing this

I’m not sharing the details, those belong to the people and the moments that shaped me.
But I share the essence, because this pattern shows up again and again in my work with clients across Utrecht, Amersfoort, Amsterdam, The Hague, and beyond.

People who give too much.
Who carry the emotional weight of everyone around them.
Who silence themselves to maintain peace.
Who apologise for existing.
Who confuse safety with invisibility.

You’re not alone in this.

And the moment you stop making yourself small even for a second something inside you opens.
Something soft.
Something true.

It’s the beginning of transformation.

The pattern beneath this story

At the root, this is a story about attachment and self-worth.
About how early environments shape the way we show up in relationships and how we can gently rewrite those patterns with awareness and support.

If this resonates with you, you may be navigating one of these themes:
• people-pleasing
• fear of conflict
• difficulty saying no
• diminishing your needs
• feeling responsible for everyone’s emotions
• losing yourself in relationships

These are not flaws.
They are protective responses, patterns learned in environments that demanded survival.

And they can be unlearned.