Hello you, fellow shy soul. This post is just for us, a space to quietly celebrate our shy, gentle courage!

(Though I feel a tad harsh saying that — we know how it feels to be excluded. So in the spirit of fairness: all are welcome here!).

I’m breaking with my traditional weekly blogging again, back to the old copy and paste from my LinkedIn. But who doesn’t want an easy life! Jokes aside, I am on a dedicated – albeit reserved – mission to share some love and change some thoughts on all things shy.

If you’d like to read more of these soft little shy reflections, I’ve gathered them all in one quiet corner of the blog 🌿→ From One Shy Soul To Another, which I will add to week by week.

So allow me to “Command + C” and gently paste my post here, with a few quiet extras added in for good measure.

I’ve been thinking lately…

Which to be fair is not unusual, I spend quite a lot of my time deep in my own thoughts. But there’s one thought that keeps doing the rounds. And that would be: how often we underestimate the strength it takes to be shy in a loud world.

Well that’s about to change because today, I’m sharing just how much quiet courage we shy souls carry.

The strength we carry often goes unseen. But here’s just some of what it takes, day to day:

🌿Keep showing up — quietly, sometimes even silently.

It’s hard to do and it can often feel like we’re expected to push, challenge, and (dare I whisper it)…“step out of the comfort zone” every single day.

💬 Little side note: “Comfort zone” is something of a trigger phrase for me. If I had a penny for every time someone’s said it to me, I’d be… well, very rich and probably still shy.

It’s usually well-intentioned, but it tends to leave me with more questions than answers. What exactly is a comfort zone? How do I step out of it? And the most important one: why should I?

If it stirs something similar in you — you’re in good company here. Hold that thought. I’ve got a feeling we’ll be unpacking that idea in a future shy blog (once I find my virtual posting feet).

🌱  Think deeply, even when others rush to speak.

One quiet advantage of our shy nature is the ability to sit back, reflect, and then speak. While this pause can feel uncomfortable — especially in fast-paced conversations — it offers us something quite rare: the ability to sit with silence.

And we become rather skilled at it. Why? Because we practice it daily — particularly in conversations with people we don’t know well. These quiet gaps, though awkward at times, teach us how to be present with discomfort.

There’s also beauty in this. When we do speak, we tend to share only what’s necessary — and often with great care. Our words carry thoughtfulness, intention, and a quiet kind of strength.

And with practice — along with a few calming tools — those moments of being tongue-tied can soften too. Not disappear, perhaps, but become easier to breathe through.

🌿 Feel things deeply, while still trying to hold it all together.

Sometimes, things can feel like too much — especially when we’re gently stretching ourselves with daily tasks that others seem to breeze through.

What’s second nature to someone else can feel overwhelming to us. And that can feel lonely, isolating, even exhausting.

But here’s what I’ve learned – even in those difficult moments, when everything feels too tender — we manage.

Not easily. Not always gracefully. But we do it.

And there’s strength in that. A quiet kind of resilience that often goes unseen.

It might not feel brave or bold…but it is.

🌱  Make phone calls, send emails, attend meetings — even when these moments stir anxiety.

The rise of technology has been a bittersweet gift. On one hand, it’s made things easier: we can email instead of call, message instead of ring, Zoom instead of meet. It’s given us quiet souls a little more breathing space.

But it’s also created a bit of a pickle — because while we may prefer the gentler forms of communication, we can’t always avoid the ones that stir anxiety.

Yes, chat bots and online calendars help. Yes, it’s easier to book a haircut or cancel an appointment without speaking to a fellow human. But then come the moments that can’t be automated — when we have to pick up the phone, walk into the unknown, or sit through a big meeting.

And those moments? They are hard. But we still do them.

It might not feel comfortable. It might not look brave from the outside.

But it is. And it quietly proves, again and again, just how strong we really are.

Shyness isn’t weakness.

It’s a form of quiet courage.

It’s a different kind of bravery — the kind that might go unnoticed on the outside, but runs deep on the inside.

So if you’ve ever:

🌿 Walked away from a conversation wishing you’d said more

🌱  Rehearsed your words in your head, but stayed silent out loud

🌿 Felt like you should be louder, bolder, quicker

🌱 Made that phone call, even if your voice trembled

Please know: you’re not alone.

Because this has happened to me — and still does, quite a lot.

There’s nothing wrong with our shyness

There’s nothing broken. Nothing we need to ‘fix.’

And I’m on a self-imposed (and admittedly quiet) mission to change how shy people are seen — and I believe it starts with how we see ourselves.

Because when we begin to accept who we truly are, what others think doesn’t sting quite so much.

And from that place of acceptance, something powerful happens — we find the space to gently challenge ourselves, adapt where needed, and grow in ways that feel true to us.

Not because we’re trying to be someone else, but because we’re working with who we already are.

If any of this resonates, you’re warmly welcome to reach out — gently, quietly, in your own time.

Because I’m here. I see you. And I relate.

I’ll see you soon,
Charlotte 🌸

P.S. If you’d like to know a little more about the quiet soul behind these words, I’ve shared a bit more here 🌿→ About me.

And if 1:1 support ever feels like the right next step, you can explore my coaching for quiet souls 🌿→ My Coaching.