Is There Such a Thing as Too Much Confidence? Navigating the Confidence Curve

When I was in second grade, my teacher called my parents to say I raised my hand too much in class. They were dismayed. I was a smart, excited kid who loved participating, and they didn’t want to stifle that. For years, I agreed with them. Now, I’m not so sure.

Over time, peer pressure chipped away at my eagerness. To fit in, I learned to hide my intelligence. Like many teens, I developed insecurities. In my early management roles, I carried those insecurities and sometimes came across as unsure. I was at the bottom of the confidence curve.

So, I read books on how to communicate more confidently—especially those targeted at women. I dropped “I think” or “I feel.”  I learned to trust my gut. I embraced the “fake it till you make it” mentality.

And guess what? I made it. But then came surprising feedback: I was too direct, intimidating, even “scary.” Me? The insecure teenager? It was a shock.

At first, I told myself, “It’s not me, it’s them.” I reflected on a common phrase I hear people say—I wasn’t intimidating; they were intimidated. So, I decided I would try to only work with strong, direct people who communicated like me. That worked—until it didn’t. I quickly learned success hinges on working with people of all communication styles, and clearly, style doesn’t always correlate with competence.

That’s when I realized I was back to being that kid raising her hand too much. I had to adjust. As I was climbing the confidence curve, my outer confidence outpaced my inner confidence.

I began to think about the kind of environment I wanted to create, one where alternate ideas surfaced and partnerships flourished. To thrive, I needed people to give me feedback, critiques, and ideas. I decided to make myself more approachable. I started pausing before making bold statements in order to tone them down a bit.  I forced myself to hold back in meetings, allowing others to speak first. I shared my mistakes publicly and brought back “I think” and “I believe.” It was scary—would being vulnerable make people lose faith in me?

I once asked a Buddhist monk how he stayed humble while leading. He said, “Talk about the scar, but not the wound.” That stuck with me. I applied it, and things began to change.

My partnerships became more collaborative, and the tension eased, even when our goals conflicted. Junior team members were more willing to share new ideas, and senior team members were more open in group forums, leading to much richer discussions.  As this happened, my inner confidence caught up to my outer confidence!

Looking back, maybe my teacher wasn’t entirely wrong. She wanted to create space for everyone, even the quieter kids. As a leader, I needed to do the same. Showing my human side helped people feel more comfortable, fostering openness and trust.

I see many leaders who stop growing once they hit their peak of external confidence. 

They are strong, assertive, powerful, and this can work.  But <I believe> the best leaders go further. They cultivate inner confidence, embracing vulnerability to build stronger teams and drive even better outcomes.