Loud Doesn’t Mean Capable. I Would Know

We’ve confused charisma for competence, and the quiet ones are paying the price.

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I was the talkative child. Not in the charming, let ’s-write-her-dialogue-for-the-school-play way, but in the “please ask her to stop raising her hand” kind of way. I answered questions I hadn’t fully understood, narrated my opinions like they were breaking news, and somehow became the de facto “smart kid” in the room. Meanwhile, my sister — quiet, observant, always finishing her homework without fanfare—was topping every class while I was, in hindsight, winging it with flair.

But nobody noticed her brilliance. At least not like they noticed my noise.

People assumed I was capable because I performed capability. My sister, who never tried to impress anyone, was underestimated constantly. It wasn’t just unfair. It was systemic.

Even as an adult, I’ve seen how this pattern plays out. I’ve walked into interviews and felt the shift, where confidence alone could warm up a room. Sounding sure of yourself counted as a qualification. You don’t even have to know the answer. You just have to know how to say “That’s a great question.”

And yes, I’ve benefited. My articulation, my energy, my visible ambition — it reads well. But here’s what nobody tells you…