What Helped Me Speak Up in Meetings (and What Didn’t)
I still remember the first time someone asked me in a meeting, “Why are you so quiet?”
I laughed awkwardly, cheeks hot, and muttered something like, “Oh, I’m just listening.” What I wanted to say was: Because my heart is pounding, I am terrified of sounding stupid, and I am still piecing together the thing I want to say. Instead, I sat back in my chair, even less likely to contribute.
For a long time, meetings felt like a stage I had not signed up for. I would rehearse sentences in my head while the conversation raced forward, waiting for the right moment that never came. By the time I worked up the courage to speak, the topic had usually shifted, and I would leave frustrated with myself, and sometimes with the structure of the meeting itself.
Over the years, though, something shifted. Part of it was practice. I slowly became more comfortable sharing in meetings, especially as I gained experience and confidence in my work. But part of it was also noticing how much the environment mattered. A few simple phrases could either make me shut down or help me feel like my voice actually belonged.
Here are some of the things people said that made it harder for me to speak, and the swaps that made all the difference. I have also added quick responses you can keep in your back pocket if you have ever been on the receiving end.
- “Why are you so quiet?”
Honestly? Because I was terrified of saying something dumb. What helped more: “I’d like to hear your thoughts when you’re ready.”
If you hear this, you might say: “I’m still thinking it through, I’ll share in a bit.” - “Just jump in!”
Easier said than done when five people are talking at once. What worked: “Let’s take turns so everyone has a chance.”
If you hear this, you might say: “I will, just let me know the best spot to add in.” - “Can you answer this right now?”
Cue panic brain. What helped: “Take a moment. We’ll come back to it.”
If you hear this, you might say: “I’d like a second to think, I’ll circle back.” - “Let’s brainstorm out loud!”
Also known as survival of the loudest. I thrived more when someone said: “Let’s jot down ideas first, then talk.”
If you hear this, you might say: “Can I jot a few down before I share?” - “Everyone needs to speak up more.”
I heard: “You’re not enough.” What worked: “Thanks for sharing in the way that works best for you.”
If you hear this, you might say: “I’ll share in writing if that’s okay.” - “Speak up if you have something to add.”
Which guaranteed I would not. What helped: “We’ll go around so everyone can share.”
If you hear this, you might say: “I’ll add something when it feels relevant.” - Dropping an agenda in real time.
Stress level: 100. Relief: “I sent the agenda in advance so you can prep.”
If this happens, you might say: “Could I take a few minutes to look this over?” - “Share your ideas now or we move on.”
My brain: frozen. The kind thing: “If anything comes to mind later, feel free to email or message me.”
If you hear this, you might say: “I’ll follow up after the meeting with my thoughts.” - “Let’s move fast and talk as we go.”
Translation: goodbye, thoughtful responses. What helped: “We’ll pause a minute before we start sharing.”
If you hear this, you might say: “Could we pause for a minute so I can gather my thoughts?” - “Please speak up more next time.”
Ouch. What felt better: “You’re welcome to send written thoughts if that’s easier.”
If you hear this, you might say: “I’d be glad to share feedback in writing too.”
None of these swaps are complicated. They do not require special training or a total redesign of how meetings are run. They are just small, intentional choices that create space for different communication styles.
And I should say this. I do not think every meeting should bend over backwards to cater to every single preference. Sometimes speed matters. Sometimes decisions need to be made on the spot. Sometimes the people who think best on their feet will naturally carry more of the conversation. That is real life.
But if you have people on your team who are consistently quiet, there is a good chance they are carrying around ideas you are not hearing. They may not fight for airtime, but they are paying attention. They are processing. And if you make a little room for them, you might be surprised by what comes out.
These days, I am much more comfortable in meetings. I have learned to speak even when my voice shakes, to contribute without rehearsing in my head forever, to trust that I do have something valuable to add. And now, when I find myself leading a meeting, I try to extend the same kind of space I once needed so badly. I do my best to make sure everyone is heard, not by forcing people to speak, but by making it safe enough that they want to.
Because meetings do not have to feel like a performance. They can feel like a conversation. Sometimes all it takes is a pause, an invitation, and a little more patience.
