
There was a time when I felt the need to explain everything.
Why I made certain career choices.
Why I stepped back from rooms I once fought to be in.
Why some friendships no longer fit.
Why rest mattered.
Why I had changed.
Not because I owed anyone an explanation—but because I was still seeking permission.
Somewhere along the way, that shifted.
Not suddenly. Not dramatically. But slowly, in the way most real transformations happen. One boundary at a time. One unreturned justification. One moment where I realised that clarity doesn’t always need commentary.
This season of my life has been marked by a quieter kind of confidence—the kind that doesn’t announce itself, doesn’t defend its existence, and doesn’t shrink in the presence of misunderstanding.
And perhaps the most freeing realisation of all: this version of me is not for everyone—and that is not a failure. It’s the point.
Outgrowing the Need to Be Understood
There is a particular discomfort that comes with growth—the moment you realise that people who once knew you well no longer recognise you.
Not because you’ve become unkind.
Not because you’ve lost your values.
But because you’ve stopped performing them.
You no longer explain why your boundaries are non-negotiable.
You no longer soften your truth to keep others comfortable.
You no longer apologise for choosing alignment over approval.
And that can feel unsettling—to them.
What no one prepares you for is that growth often looks like withdrawal from spaces where over-explaining was once your currency. Where being palatable mattered more than being whole. Where you were praised for how much you carried, not how well you protected yourself.
Letting go of the need to be understood by everyone is not indifference. It is discernment.
When Confidence Gets Mistaken for Distance
I’ve noticed that when you stop explaining yourself, people sometimes assume you’ve become distant.
Colder.
Less accessible.
Less accommodating.
The truth is far simpler—and far braver.
You’ve learned that access is earned.
That your energy is not a public resource.
That you can be warm without being available to everyone.
Quiet confidence doesn’t shout. It doesn’t persuade. It doesn’t chase validation or reassurance. It stands still and lets misunderstanding pass without pursuit.
And yes, that will cost you some relationships.
Not all distance is a loss. Some distance is protection.
Choosing Peace Over Performance
There was a version of me who believed that being liked was a measure of success.
She worked hard.
She showed up.
She over-delivered.
She explained herself beautifully.
She also carried exhaustion like a badge of honour.
What I know now is this: peace requires less explanation than performance ever did.
When you stop narrating your life for others, you begin living it more fully for yourself. You make decisions based on resonance rather than reaction. You trust your internal compass more than external applause.
And the rooms that fall silent when you stop explaining?
They were never meant to be permanent.

This Version of Me Is Intentional
I am not less open.
I am more intentional.
I am not closed off.
I am more discerning.
I am not distant.
I am at peace.
This version of me knows that not every chapter needs an audience, not every decision needs validation, and not every evolution needs to be explained in footnotes.
Some people will miss the version of you that bent more.
Let them.
Growth is not about being understood—it’s about being aligned.
And alignment, I’ve learned, speaks for itself.

A Quiet Reminder
If you find yourself explaining less these days, trust that it’s not because you have nothing to say—but because you finally know who you are.
Wherever you are in your becoming—there is nothing wrong with you.

About the Author
Shalini S. Rambachan is a Caribbean-based corporate commercial attorney, strategic advisor, and writer exploring leadership, growth, and life in its many chapters. With over a decade of experience across governance, strategy, and complex transactions, her work blends professional insight with deeply human reflection. Through her writing, she examines reinvention, boundaries, and the quiet confidence that comes from choosing alignment over approval—both in boardrooms and in life.
Clue of the Week
This week’s clue: I am learning that silence can be an answer—and not everything needs my explanation to be valid.
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