The Rock Sells Shampoo. How Less-Qualified People Get Taken More Seriously.
Recently, I went to an event hosted by someone well-known. I think this person is smart and I value their opinion. (Duh, which is why I went.)
However, at a certain point of the all-day event, instead of actively consuming the content, I became an observer. And I realized that, yes, this person was smart and successful, but nothing he was saying was totally mind-blowing or life-changing.
So, I started listening to the sounds in his voice that were behind the words he was saying. And that’s when it hit me.
His voice sounded extremely grounded, calm, and most importantly, confident.
I don’t think he is necessarily the smartest or the most talented in his field, but he has become very successful because the sounds in his voice have brought him a massive amount of trust from his audience.
And that is his competitive advantage.
The Rock sells shampoo.
So why are you still holding back because of imposter syndrome?
I’m not an expert.
I don’t know as much as Kevin.
I don’t know what I’m doing.
As adults, how many of us know what the fuck were are doing? Nobody!
Michelle Obama has talked about having this realization after spending years in some of the most powerful rooms in the world. She’d sat at corporate boards, G-summits, the UN, nonprofits, foundations, all of it.
And her conclusion was: “They’re not that smart.”
Her point was that we have a tendency to look at people with status, money, titles, or power and assume they must have some secret level of brilliance that the rest of us don’t.
Meanwhile, plenty of smart, capable people are sitting outside those rooms asking themselves:
Am I good enough?
Do I belong there?
I’m bald. What do I know about washing hair?!
The competitive advantage is sounding like you know you deserve a seat at the table.
That’s it.
Yes, some people are born into the right circumstances, yes, some people have to work their asses off, but at the end of the day, you may be the one minimizing yourself before anyone else gets the chance to.
The only difference is: are you going to make excuses as to why it’s not available to you? Or are you going to grab imposter syndrome by the throat and courageously own your message and authority so fiercely that you don’t give a shit what everybody else’s talents are because you believe so strongly in your own?
And it’s not about being loud or conspicuous. Sometimes the most powerful people are the ones who can command attention with their calm presence and certainty.
If you sound like you are uncomfortable being seen and you’re rushing to get through it, that gives a very different listener experience than someone who is grounded and connected. Even if the exact same words are spoken.
In 2018, I decided that I wanted to move from Chicago to Hawaii and be a writer.
Trust me, my inner bitch was going crazy with criticism:
Who do you think you are?
You took the Second City Chicago sketch writing program, and now you think you are a “writer?”
You’re going to fuck your life up.
You don’t deserve to be happy.
Even worse, keeping my well-paying Corporate America job meant doing something that was wildly outside my comfort zone at the time: asking my manager if I could work remotely from Hawaii.
This was 2018, well before remote work became common. I already worked from home most of the time in Chicago, but I could also be in the office within an hour if somebody needed me. Hawaii was a totally different commute than the Red Line.
Asking to work remotely from Hawaii was so outlandish and absurd at that time that I was certain that I was going to get fired on the spot for being an unprofessional dumbass.
But I had already decided I was moving to Hawaii. Keeping that job would be amazing, but I was going either way, even if that meant getting a different job that would allow the change in location. So, I asked.
And my manager said yes.
After the move, there was a lot of unexpected jealousy from some of my co-workers. Some of it was direct, and some of it was indirectly told to me through gossip.
How did YOU get to move to Hawaii?
Why is she so special?
Whose ass did you have to kiss?
And the funny thing is, all I did was confidently ask, which is all anybody had to do. Some of the people wondering why I got to move to Hawaii had never even asked what might be possible for them.
The person who gets the opportunity isn’t necessarily the person who deserves it the most. It’s the person who is bold enough to see the possibility and ask for it.
Unfair plot twist: You can know more and still sound less certain.
Someone else can know less and sound more authoritative. This happens all the time in Corporate America. The more corporate buzzwords someone uses, like:
Circle back
Take this offline
Move the needle
Boil the ocean
Strategic alignment
Stakeholder alignment
the more hyped up everyone is, like Kevin from Procurement just delivered the Gettysburg Address.
All that jargon makes the speaker sound more polished and “executive,” even when the idea underneath it is painfully average because the buzzwords are doing a fuckton of work that the actual idea isn’t.
And this is where it gets expensive.
You soften when you say, “My rate is $5,000?” like you’re asking whether the number is okay, even if you spent three weeks meticulously pricing the offer and know exactly what it’s worth, because some part of you is still more focused on whether they’re comfortable with the number than whether you’re clearly communicating what you charge.
You walk into your salary conversation knowing you’re underpaid by $20,000, armed with market data, measurable results, and a glowing peer review from Kevin, and then spend five minutes explaining every project you’ve completed since the Obama administration, even if you know you deserve the raise, because simply saying “Based on my scope and results, I’m asking for a $20,000 increase” feels a hell of a lot more vulnerable than proving your case until nobody could possibly accuse you of asking for too much.
You finally share the idea you’ve been sitting on for six months and immediately add, “But I don’t know, that’s just a thought, we could totally do something else,” even if you’ve researched the shit out of it, because leaving your opinion sitting naked on the conference-room table without cushioning it against somebody else’s possible disagreement feels terrifying. (Then Kevin says essentially the same fucking thing 12 minutes later, and everybody starts nodding, and suddenly Kevin is “showing leadership potential.”)
You tell your boss you don’t have capacity for another project and then immediately start explaining your workload, your deadlines, the quarterly forecast, Susan being out next week, and the current position of Mercury, even if “I don’t have capacity for that” was completely true on its own, because somewhere along the way you may have learned that a no is easier to deliver when you can prove you have a sufficiently acceptable reason for it.
You quote a client $10,000 and then fill the first three seconds of silence with “But I’m flexible depending on your budget,” even if they haven’t objected to the price, because their silence feels so uncomfortable that you start negotiating against yourself before they’ve negotiated with you.
That shit is costing you.
And lately, I’ve become obsessed with what happens underneath the words.
I’m currently working toward my Psychology of the Voice® certification, and it has completely changed the way I listen to people.
I’m paying much closer attention to the way people sound when the stakes are high and being fully seen feels vulnerable.
Money
Authority
Being seen
Asking for what they want
Saying something another person may not like
Because sometimes the words say one thing while the delivery says something else entirely:
You can intend to say, “This is my rate,” and somehow it comes out sounding like, “This is my rate?”
You can know exactly what you’re talking about and still rush through it like you’d rather disappear.
You can have the best idea in the room and bury it underneath so much explaining, qualifying, and verbal vomit that somebody else says essentially the same thing five minutes later with more certainty and gets credit for it.
I’ll be sharing a lot more about voice, visibility & vulnerability as I continue this work. But for now, pay attention to the people you trust. And then pay attention to yourself.
Your competitive advantage is when people can hear that you believe in yourself.
Insight Is Cute. Now Act.
Because realizing that confidence affects how people experience you is only useful if you start noticing when your own delivery tells a different story than your words.
Pick one situation this week where you already know what you want to say. Maybe it’s:
This is my rate.
I deserve a raise.
No, that doesn’t work for me.
I disagree.
I know what I’m talking about.
Now practice saying it out loud in a low-stakes situation and pay attention to what happens next:
Do you speed up because you feel uncomfortable being seen and want to get it over with?
Get quieter because you are afraid of the other person’s reaction (or, worse, that you can’t handle it)?
Turn the statement into a question because you wanted to soften what you said so that you don’t bother or offend the other person.
Start over-explaining because you weren’t comfortable with a pause in conversation.
Then, go deeper:
What am I trying to make the listener believe about me?
What am I worried they might think if I just said it and stopped talking?
Do I actually believe what I’m saying, or am I waiting for them to believe it first?
And here’s the big one:
What would this sound like if I trusted myself to say what I fucking mean?
Because trusting what you know is your competitive advantage.
Okay, But Now What?
If your voice is giving away a story you don’t consciously believe anymore, the obvious next question is: what the hell is the story?
Maybe you soften when you talk about money because some old part of you still associates asking for more with being greedy, you overexplain because you learned you had to prove your worth before you could receive, or you panic around spending, undercharge, overwork, or keep waiting for someone else to validate that you’re “allowed” to want more.
That’s exactly why I created my free Money Story Finder. It helps you trace where your money story started, spot how it’s still showing up in your behavior, name the story, and question whether you actually believe it anymore.
Go find the story running the show before it keeps making Adult You do weird shit with money.
👉 Download the free The Money Story Finder eBook here: https://www.runninginslippers.com/email
P.S. If you are looking for a sign to stay alive. This is it.
This post is about how what people hear on the surface can shape how they see you, even when it doesn’t tell the whole story.
The same is true of people.
Someone can look successful, capable, funny, productive, and completely fine while privately feeling hopeless.
In this week’s video, I’m sharing part of the story of my suicide attempt, and what was happening underneath the version of me everyone else saw.
Because sometimes the biggest gap isn’t between what you know and how you sound.
It’s not an easy story to tell, but it’s an important one.
It’s between how your life looks from the outside and what you’re actually carrying inside.
🎥If that’s something you need today, you can watch it here: https://youtu.be/9S1Q1L5G5h0?si=M-xGSFTs7AewUCl6
With Love & Fire,
Angie
https://www.innerglowbyangie.com/
I help you rewrite the childhood stories that are keeping Adult You quiet, overworked, and underpaid, so you can say what you fu*king mean, know your worth, and make more money.
Because you deserve to feel excited about your own life.
Through my signature GLOW Method, I combine money story rewriting, identity work, practical money strategy, and real-time action to help women stop playing small, use their voice with confidence, and become the kind of woman who naturally attracts more money, opportunities, visibility, and fulfillment.
I’m the author of Running in Slippers, a raw and vulnerable memoir about my journey from self-loathing and a suicide attempt to self-love and thriving. Life kicked me in the a$$, and, in hindsight, I needed it to.
