The Day I Stopped Hiding Behind My Own Smile

“I didn’t know all this about you, that you’re a professor, a writer. To me, you’re still my younger sister-in-law.”

My sister-in-law’s words hung in the air after I hung up the phone, and I sat there wondering: How long have I been invisible to the people who I thought knew me best? 

For years—decades, really—I perfected the art of being underestimated. The spacey girl with blonde hair who always had a smile but whom no one took seriously, I made it my persona, my safety net. It was easier to be dismissed rather than to risk being seen and judged. It is easier to laugh things off rather than to stand in the discomfort of being truly known.

But here’s what I didn’t realize, that I wasn’t just hiding from their judgment. I was hiding from myself.

I spent so much energy maintaining that carefully crafted image, the one that kept me safe, small, and unseen, that I forgot there was a real person underneath. A person with thoughts worth sharing, a person with experiences that might matter to other people, a person who can teach and share with others, a person who had something real to say.

The shift started with a single article. Nothing dramatic or life-changing, just me finally deciding to write something true. Something that mattered to me, regardless of whether anyone else would care. I hit publish before I could talk myself out of it, the way you rip off a Band-Aid.

I expected nothing. Maybe a few polite comments from friends. Maybe crickets.

Instead, something unexpected happened. People started responding—not just liking or sharing, but really responding. Strangers began reaching out to say my words had helped them through difficult times. Women told me they saw themselves in what I’d written. People stopped me in the grocery store and coffee shop to say, “I read your article and it came at exactly the right time.”

And what did I do? I laughed it off. “Oh, that’s so cute that you read it.” I deflected every compliment, minimized every impact, as if my words actually helping someone was just a charming coincidence rather than proof that I had something meaningful to say.

My husband noticed it too. The other day, he asked me: “Do you think this weekly column you write changes how people perceive you?”

I started to brush it off: “I don’t think about it like that.” But then I stopped mid-sentence because the truth is, yes, it does. People look at me differently now. They keep saying things like: “I didn’t know that about you” or “I listened to your podcast and it was great.” And honestly, I can’t really believe it either.

Just last week, a few women approached me at a restaurant. They recognized me and said they follow my writing and I inspire them. Me? Inspiring people? I still find it funny and a little weird. Or maybe I’m just kidding myself that it’s weird because accepting it feels too big, too real.

Even now, I catch myself slipping back into old patterns. Just yesterday, someone complimented my latest piece and I heard myself starting to say, “Oh, I just threw that together, it’s nothing special”—then I paused and caught myself. Wait. Why was I still doing this? Why was I still apologizing for being good at something?

I kept waiting for someone to figure out that I wasn’t a “real” writer. That I was still just the spacey blonde girl who smiled too much. That it was all some kind of mistake.

But the responses kept coming. The articles kept resonating. And slowly, reluctantly, I started to wonder: What if I was wrong about myself this whole time?

What if this version of me that I’d been hiding wasn’t the embarrassing truth, but the real one?

The hardest part wasn’t learning to write or find my voice; the hardest part was unlearning the habit of making myself small. Or apologizing for taking up space. Or laughing off my own impact as if it were accidental rather than earned.

I think about how far I might be now if I hadn’t spent so many years caring about what other people thought. If I’d been brave enough to be myself from the beginning. If I’d trusted that my thoughts and experiences and perspective had value, even when—especially when—they didn’t fit into the neat little box that people put me into.

But maybe that’s the wrong question. Maybe the right question is: What if it’s not too late to start now to be the best version of myself?

Because here’s what I’ve learned: The person you have been hiding doesn’t disappear because you adopted a different persona for years. She’s still there, waiting. All those thoughts you convinced yourself weren’t worth sharing, all those dreams you talked yourself out of, all those moments when you bit your tongue instead of speaking up—they’re still there too, waiting for you to finally take them seriously.

The world doesn’t need another version of who you think you should be. It needs the version that you have been too scared to show.

Your sister-in-law, your coworkers, your friends—they might be surprised when you stop playing small. They might not know what to do with the real you at first. But that’s not your problem to solve. Your job is not to stay small so other people feel comfortable. Your job is to finally, bravely, unapologetically become yourself. Your true, authentic self.

And if you’re sitting there thinking, “But what if I’m not as interesting as I think I am? What if I don’t have anything valuable to say?”—I want you to know that’s just the old story talking. The one that kept you safe and small for so long. The one that convinced you that your thoughts, your experiences, your perspective didn’t matter.

That story served its purpose. It protected you when you needed protecting. But it’s time to write a new one.

The day I stopped hiding behind my own smile wasn’t dramatic. It was just the day I decided to trust that the person I’d been hiding might actually be worth knowing. Worth hearing. Worth taking seriously.

It turns out, she was.

And so are you.

If you have a question about life, career goals, a situation you’re struggling with, or a topic you want to explore, send it my way and I will address it in a future article. Whether it’s about careers, relationships, personal growth, or navigating life changes later in life, I want to hear from you. Email me at [email protected]. Let’s talk about life, success, failure, reinvention, and everything in between. Because if there’s one thing I know for sure, we are never done evolving. n

Tamara Gestetner is a certified mediator, psychotherapist, and life and career coach based in Cedarhurst.  She helps individuals and couples navigate relationships, career transitions, and life’s uncertainties with clarity and confidence. Through mediation and coaching, she guides clients in resolving conflicts, making tough decisions, and creating meaningful change. Tamara is now taking questions and would love to hear what’s on your mind—whether it’s about life, career, relationships, or anything in between. She can be reached at 646-239-5686 or via email at [email protected]. Please visit www.tamaragestetner.com to learn more.