The Strength of Not Shrinking

Power is a funny thing.

From the time we’re little girls, we’re taught not to take up too much of it. Don’t be too bold. Don’t be too loud. Don’t be too demanding. Smile more. Soften your edges. Make yourself palatable.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve been told that I have “a tone.” It’s always said in that diminishing type of way, as if my very voice irks people. The irony is, no one would ever tell a man that he has “a tone,” would they? Men are expected to speak with authority. Women are expected to tread lightly, as if every word must be measured, weighed, and softened before it’s safe to release.

But here’s the shift that changed everything for me: I stopped apologizing for who I was. I stopped playing by other people's rules.

That sounds simple. It isn’t. It takes practice to unlearn the habit of shrinking. For years, I caught myself editing my words in real time, smoothing out the sharp corners of my opinions, softening my voice so it wouldn’t seem “too much.” I thought that was the cost of belonging. But the more I tried to fit inside the box, the smaller I became, and the less impact I had.

My power only became real when I chose to stop contorting myself. When I showed up as myself, fully and consistently. When I spoke the way I actually speak. When I stopped worrying about whether my conviction made someone else uncomfortable.

And what I found is that authenticity is its own kind of power.

My power is in my refusal to water myself down. In my commitment to justice. In my focus, my persistence, my unwillingness to back down. The very qualities I was once told made me “intense” turned out to be the things that make me strong. Those edges I’d been told to sand down? They’re not liabilities. They’re superpowers.

It’s important to name this, because women are still asked every day to shrink. To bend to make other people more comfortable. To keep our heads down and stay grateful for whatever scraps of influence we’re handed. But I know, deeply, that I have so much more to give the world than fitting neatly inside someone else’s standards.

And once I finally believed that—once I stopped waiting for someone else to grant me permission to be who I am—that’s when I found my power.

Power, at least for me, has nothing to do with titles or positions. It doesn’t come from a degree, a line on a business card, or an institution’s stamp of approval. It comes from within. That deep burning passion that propels you forward. Regardless of the title you hold or the amount on your paycheck.

And when you realize that you hold that kind of power, something remarkable happens: you create space for others to claim theirs too.

Power is individual.
Power is in community.
Power is in parenting my children.
Power is in prioritizing my marriage and showing up every day.
Power is in the way I communicate, tone and all.

And when I sit authentically in that power, I open the doors for others to find theirs. Because in community, we thrive. And when we thrive, our power doesn’t stay contained—it moves forward. Power is a rising tide, lifting all ships.

Power isn’t static. It shifts. It stretches. It sometimes disappears and has to be found again. I’ve had days where I’ve felt silenced, or small, or unsure. But each time, I’ve learned that power returns when I root myself in authenticity. When I remember that the qualities others might label “too much” are the exact qualities I need to keep going.

Because real power doesn’t come from being agreeable.
It comes from being unshakably yourself.

Power is about presence and persistence. It’s about showing up, unapologetically, in a world that keeps trying to whittle us down. It’s about choosing to stand tall even when you’ve been told to sit quietly.

And once you find that kind of power—the kind that comes from being wholly, fiercely yourself—you never forget it. You carry it into every room. You lend it to others. You build something bigger than yourself with it.

Because power isn’t just what you hold.
It’s what you create when you stop apologizing for existing exactly as you are.

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Nikki Sapiro Vinckier is an OBGYN PA, a reproductive health advocate, and founder of Take Back Trust. She writes about medicine, politics, and the places they collide and is the Author of the forthcoming book, We Deserve More, coming out June 2026.

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