The Really Risky Advice That Stopped Me Shrinking
3 Prompts to Ditch the Shrinkage and Take Up More Space (Plus a Bonus to Go Even Further)
Hi! This is Danusia from Parents Who Think, where thoughtful humans raise the next generation of thinkers.
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I speak to myself. About myself. About my body.
I’ve not checked whether everyone does this, or if it’s my own brand of quirk. I’ll assume it’s universal - anything else would send me spinning into doubt, like I’m the only woman in the world dissecting herself this way.
In full transparency, it’s self-advice that’s often the hardest, the riskiest to follow.
Not because it’s unreliable, but because it asks us to trust ourselves in a world that constantly tells us we shouldn’t.
It tells us to stop shrinking, stop conforming to ridiculous, unattainable standards, and to boldly claim our space. But listening to yourself, especially when the whole world tells you to do the opposite? That takes guts.
Guess what? It isn’t just me though, is it?
This body-talk, this constant scrutiny - it’s embedded in all of us. From the moment we understand what it means to be female, we are taught to catalogue, judge, and diminish our bodies. This isn’t personal neurosis; it’s social conditioning.
The constant, grinding expectation that no matter where you are in life - whether you’re a young girl, a woman in her ‘prime’, a mother, or someone whose body is ageing gracefully or otherwise - you are never meant to just be. No. You must strive. You must shrink.
It’s everywhere. In a world obsessed with youth and thinness, what space is left for us to age, to grow, to expand as we take on more of life?
I was once discussing a project with a colleague - both of us mid-career academics, on equal footing, or so I thought. He was two decades older than me, and mid-conversation, he suddenly says, "Well, of course, you’re no spring chicken." I was 35. Thirty-five. And stunned into silence.
Spring chicken? What spring? Must I still be a chick? I was barely out of my youth, and already being measured against the arbitrary and impossible standards of a body that has passed its sell-by date.
Then there was the work call (old fashioned style not video) where, casually munching on a biscuit, I mentioned to a prospective client that he called as I was finishing a choc bourbon with my tea.
Out of nowhere, he says, "I guess you're not athletic? Probably need to lose at least 10 pounds, right?" As if this was a perfectly normal observation, like the weather. Like it was his right to comment on my body.
His words hit me with a jarring clarity1: it’s not just that we’re supposed to stay in shape, but we’re supposed to stay small. Take up as little space as possible - physically, socially, metaphorically.
This is the undercurrent, the constant hum in our lives.
It’s why few of us, if any, ever feel fully at peace in our bodies. We’re policed - by others, and most viciously, by ourselves.
Told we must remain slim, slight, petite, the ideal of youth, or else risk being deemed excessive. But where is this pressure more insidious than in motherhood, when our bodies are literally asked to expand, to stretch and grow and make space for life?
Motherhood, like ageing, changes the body as much as the mind. The body of a mother is altered, reshaped, different. And yet, absurdly, the pressure remains: “bounce back,” “get your body back,” as if the version of you that carried a child was an inconvenient interruption, and the “real” you is hidden beneath.
It’s not just ludicrous - it’s cruel. To try to hold back the tide of natural change? To pretend we can avoid the inevitable metamorphosis that life demands of us? It’s an impossible battle2, and yet, we’re all quietly enlisted.
And it isn’t just about the body - it’s about the message that we aren’t allowed to take up more space, either physically or in the world.
Fat is not the enemy. It never was. The enemy is the belief that our worth is measured by how little space we take up.
The enemy is the internalisation of society’s fear of female power - the fear that when we expand, when we allow ourselves to be big, we will become too much. Too powerful. Too present. So we must shrink. But the shrinking is the enemy. Not the body.
And this is where the really risky advice comes in. The advice to stop shrinking and start taking up space doesn’t come from some external source — it comes from within.
It’s the voice inside that knows your power, knows you’re meant for more. But it’s risky because it defies the very things we’ve been conditioned to believe. It’s risky because it asks us to walk against the current of social expectation, to trust ourselves over the constant noise of outside opinions. And that? That’s terrifying.
I was asked to give a keynote speech on women’s confidence - how to be bolder, how to take up more space. And I remember thinking, “Women don’t need more confidence”. We already have confidence.
When left to our own devices, away from the oppressive gaze of the patriarchy, we are fierce, capable, and unapologetic. The problem is, we’ve internalised so many toxic narratives about ourselves - about our bodies, our worth, our ability to grow - that we hesitate to stand tall. We’ve been taught to police ourselves, to apologise for existing too loudly or too fully3.
So I shifted the focus. The talk wasn’t about confidence - it was about being brazen4. About how we can exist in a world that wants us to shrink, to diminish, and still walk boldly.
BRAZEN:- (No prescriptions. Here’s my version, what’s yours?)
Be unapologetically bold, claim my full power in a world that urges women to shrink.
Subvert expectations.
Reject norms that demand I stay small, or silent, and instead embrace my full self - body, voice, and mind - without compromise or apology.
Brazen means to show up fully and to challenge limits society places on women's potential.
Because this is what we face every day: the tension between being big in the world while being told that our power lies in staying small.
We’re fed a script that says our value is in being tiny - slim, and delicate. We’re supposed to be petite, diminutive, quiet. And yet, we are tasked with doing big things. With dreaming big, living big. It’s no wonder we feel conflicted.
What’s more, this obsession with size distracts us. We waste our time on endless diets, running ourselves ragged in an attempt to shrink down, just as society demands.
But how can you have big ideas, bold ambitions, and daring dreams when you’re constantly told to make yourself small?
And so, I ask myself again - how will I describe my body to myself now?
In a world that insists I should be less, I advise myself to be more. To be brazen. I will stop tiptoeing around language that makes me feel apologetic for existing in this form. I will not be stocky, or chubby, or short and dumpy. I will not be doughy, voluptuous, or womanly in a way that suggests something I should conceal. I will be here, in this body, unapologetically taking up space. And I will be brazenly so.
PROMPTS FOR REFLECTION: it’s your turn.
1. What would need to happen for you to feel like you’ve stepped into your fully brazen self, in your life?
2. Wave a brazen wand and change ONE thing in your life right now, what would it be?
3. How would embracing the soft brazen version of yourself - not just “big”, but bold and unapologetic - make a difference in your life?
BONUS PROMPT: Ready to Take Up Even More Space?
4. Go so brazen that you know you’ll fail. Do it anyway. What could you achieve if you took failure off the table, if it was simply a stepping stone towards something bigger?
I’ll finish with revolutionary words from TV/radio Presenter and Writer :
I love my body, it is my partner in crime within this thing called life.
As always, I would love to hear your thoughts on this piece! What kind of relationship do you have with your body? And in being your brazen full self?
Till next time,
Danusia xx
PS. If you’re ready to partner with a mentor to excavate your own version of brazen and make more impact across your life (and if you’ve an inkling we’d be a rocking fit), you’re warmly invited to reach out. Click the link, let’s chat. I’ll release two spots in October, so stay tuned.
PPS. Don’t forget to share this post with those you think might enjoy it. Thank you.
He did not become a client.
They keep saying that beautiful is something a girl needs to be. But honestly? Forget that. Don’t be beautiful. Be angry, be intelligent, be witty, be klutzy, be interesting, be funny, be adventurous, be crazy, be talented - there are an eternity of other things to be other than beautiful. And what is beautiful anyway but a set of letters strung together to make a word? Be your own definition of amazing, always. That is so much more important than anything beautiful, ever - - Nikita Gill
Looking for an example of brazen, how about Gisele Pericot? Instead of remaining anonymous, she chose a public trial, allowing the media to publish her full name, and the court to show explicit videos of the (suspected) rapes recorded by her husband.
She opted for openness, she said, in solidarity with other women who are victims of sexual crimes. To name her actions as bold, or courageous does not do her justice. She claims her full power in a world that would expect her to shrink.
Brazen was met with hoorays, in case you wonder how the focus shift went.
Incredible what people will say (and do). Yes, yes, yes to being brazen in a world that wants us to be small. 👏
HOORAY FOR THIS POST. I was nodding the whole way through. Thank you.