Who Do You Become When You Stop Explaining Yourself?

By Dr. LaSonya Lopez, MD

June 20, 2025

There is a moment—quiet, defiant, sacred—when a woman realizes she’s spent years narrating her own existence. Not because she enjoys the sound of her voice, but because the world trained her to anticipate discomfort, to fill the silence before anyone else does, to preemptively soften the truth in case it lands too hard. This narration often sounds like:

“Let me explain…”“Just so you know…”“I hope that makes sense…”“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but…” These are the linguistic cushions we place around our power, so that no one bruises themselves on it.

But what happens when the need to explain begins to erode the essence of who we are? What if, instead of clarifying every feeling, decision, boundary, pivot, and preference, we simply let them stand unadorned? Not because we’re unkind or inconsiderate, but because we’ve grown weary of managing everyone else’s comfort at the cost of our own clarity.

When I ask, “Who do you become when you stop explaining yourself?” I’m not asking you to reject community, connection, or collaboration. I’m asking what it might feel like to belong to yourself first. To know what you know. To feel what you feel. To choose what you choose—and allow that to be enough.

For many of us, the habit of explaining didn’t begin as a choice. It began as survival. We were raised in environments—cultural, familial, professional—where misunderstanding wasn’t just inconvenient, it was dangerous. Especially for women. Especially for women of color. Misinterpretation meant punishment. Misalignment meant rejection.

In the corporate world, this looks like over-preparing for meetings, anticipating every objection before speaking up, and backing every statement with proof, even when intuition should be enough. In medicine, it shows up as imposter syndrome, needing to provide extra justification for career shifts, especially if you leave clinical practice. In family systems, it manifests as caretaking everyone else’s emotional state so no one accuses you of being selfish. And so we over-explained, over-clarified, over-justified. We edited ourselves in real time to remain digestible. We learned to pad our “no” with justifications, to turn our joy into footnotes, to downplay our needs so they didn’t seem like demands. We do this because we were taught to equate humility with smallness. But the kind of humility that asks you to explain away your instincts isn’t humility—it’s codependency masquerading as grace.

The Psychology Behind Over-Explaining

Let’s break it down: over-explaining is a trauma response. It is a manifestation of fawning—a lesser-discussed survival mode where we try to appease, avoid conflict, and ensure safety by staying agreeable. It’s not inherently wrong. It comes from intelligence. But when left unchecked, it becomes a reflex that undermines sovereignty.

In therapy and coaching, we talk about boundaries—but we rarely talk about the invisible lines we constantly redraw by over-explaining. A boundary followed by “I hope this doesn’t upset you” is not a boundary. It’s a request for permission.

One powerful reframing is this: You are not responsible for managing how others receive your truth. You are responsible for delivering it with clarity, integrity, and kindness—but not for packaging it to avoid every possible reaction.

How It Shows Up in Everyday Life

Over-explaining creeps into the everyday in ways we don’t even notice:

• Saying “I’m sorry, I’m just really tired today” when declining a social invite.

• Giving a long background story before asserting a need: “I know you’ve had a hard day, and I really don’t want to seem like a burden, but would it be okay if…?”

• Offering 12 reasons for changing your mind, instead of saying: “I’ve decided this no longer aligns.”

• Sharing your dreams or shifts with an apologetic tone, especially in professional or family spaces.

But here’s the thing: Clarity sounds like arrogance when you’ve been raised to confuse self-erasure with politeness. The more you begin to say what you mean, without dressing it up in softening language, the more you’ll feel the friction of other people’s expectations. But that friction? That’s confirmation. You are no longer auditioning for acceptance. You are embodying alignment.

The Cultural and Gendered Layers

It would be a mistake not to acknowledge that over-explaining is disproportionately demanded from certain bodies. Black women. Immigrant daughters. Neurodivergent individuals. LGBTQ+ folks. Anyone perceived as "too much" by dominant cultural standards.

We carry layered scripts. Generational. Institutional. Colonial. Religious. The messaging has been clear: fit in. Be palatable. Don’t make them uncomfortable.

But when we internalize those messages, we begin to perform roles instead of embodying wholeness. We curate our communication not to connect, but to survive. To be accepted. To stay in the room. This is why stopping the pattern is not just personal—it’s political. It’s not just a shift in language. It’s a shift in power.

What Emerges When You Stop Explaining

When you break this pattern, here’s what begins to surface:

• Creative clarity. You write, speak, lead, and build from a place of truth rather than performance.

• Cleaner boundaries. You say yes or no with ease. You don’t draft an essay to justify either.

• Restored intuition. You no longer need external confirmation to trust your inner compass.

• Energetic freedom. You conserve mental space for what matters instead of scripting your life in anticipation of critique.

• New relationships. You begin attracting people who can hold space for your whole self, not just the curated version.

And most importantly, you remember who you were before the performance began.

Practical Ways to Start

If you want to stop over-explaining, here’s where you begin:

1. Pause Before You Justify: Before you answer, ask yourself, “Am I saying this because it’s true? Or because I feel I have to defend my truth?”

2. Use Full Sentences: “No.” “That doesn’t work for me.” “I’ve changed my mind.” Period. Complete. Respectful.

3. Practice in Safe Spaces: Find a journal, a friend, or a therapist where you can practice not over-justifying. Even noticing how hard it is to stop is insight.

4. Create Rituals That Anchor You in Truth: Breathwork. Prayer. Writing. Anything that roots you back into the present moment before you start self-editing.

5. Let Silence Hold Space: You don’t have to fill every pause. Let your words linger. Let them be received. You are not obligated to tidy up the emotional aftermath of your truth.

From Performing to Embodying

As a doctor, I’ve seen this in practice beyond the emotional realm. Our nervous system responds differently when we are aligned. There’s less cortisol. Less inflammation. Our vagus nerve regulates more easily. There’s more parasympathetic activity. This isn’t just an idea. It’s embodied physiology. When you stop explaining, your body relaxes. You exhale.

You come home to yourself. And that shift—however quiet—ripples through everything. Your leadership. Your parenting. Your friendships. Your business. Your health.

A Final Reflection

You do not exist to be digestible.

You do not need to be understood to be worthy.

Your legacy will not be built through over-clarification. It will be built through clarity. Consistency. Courage.

And so I ask you again:

Who do you become when you stop explaining yourself?

You become the woman who speaks in truth instead of code. You become the leader who sets the tone rather than mirrors the room. You become the friend who listens without shrinking. You become the daughter who chooses peace over people-pleasing. You become the mother who teaches her children not to apologize for their voice.

You become free. And freedom, beloved, looks good on you.

Dr. LaSonya Lopez, MD is a fellowship-trained Urogynecologist, wellness educator, and founder of Pure Needs & Co., a holistic women’s wellness company featuring organic skincare, herbal teas, and pelvic health education.