“Just try to tone it down a bit, Julie.”

It took me by surprise. This was a teacher I respected deeply, someone whose judgment I trusted, and she was telling me that I was too intimidating to another student. That I needed to dial myself back.

I remember feeling shocked, shamed, and then angry. Wasn’t that patronizing, I thought, to both of us? That the other student’s difficulty speaking up was somehow my responsibility? And that toning myself down would actually help them find their voice?

It’s well-intentioned, because some people (apparently me!) take up too much space, crowd out other voices. But does saying, “tone it down,” or “give up your power” actually work? Is it realistic to think that will help the situation? If not, then what does?

I think about my client, Malcolm. Malcolm’s ideas are often good, most times the best in the room. He speaks quickly, jumps in early, and has a strong instinct for framing the issue and proposing next steps. But the power of his presence comes at a cost. He preempts quieter voices. He sets direction before others have fully entered the conversation. His team members have a lot of ideas themselves, but Malcolm’s voice has already taken the conversation down another route.

Malcolm dominates with his voice and energy, but sometimes personal power can be silencing through mere presence. I think about someone I coached years ago, Francis, the Chief of Surgery at a major teaching hospital. She was also a triathlete, a medical school lecturer, and a board member of Doctors Without Borders. She was impressive by just about every metric. Her real passion, though? Teaching. She loved helping young doctors grow. The problem was, most residents keep their distance.

They didn’t seek her out for mentoring. They dreaded being assigned to her operating room. When they had questions, they went to less skilled surgeons. Not because Francis was unapproachable or unkind, but because she just seemed to have it all figured out. Standing next to her, they felt inadequate.

So what’s the solution? Does Malcolm have to stay quiet and hold back? Does Francis have to minimize herself? Did I?

Telling powerful people to shrink, mute themselves or tone it down to make it easier for others isn’t realistic, or sustainable. So how to make room for others without shrinking yourself or lowering the bar?

I think of it, not as giving up power, but counterbalancing it

The first step is probably just recognizing it as a power. Most people don’t see their energy, ideas, and enthusiasm as power. That awareness alone changes things, because having power comes with the responsibility to use it well. When my teacher told me I was intimidating (“force of nature” were her words), it was a wake up call. Until then, I saw myself as just “one of the gang,” operating in peer mode. We’re all students. We’re all equals. Suddenly I saw myself through the eyes of others, and it made me more conscious of my impact. It didn’t mean I did something wrong, but I started to see the wake of my presence. It made me more thoughtful about my actions. Here’s an example: operating as a peer, if I felt an urgency to speak, I would interrupt. Seeing my power, though, I could see that interrupting would be experienced as dominating, not as excitement. So why not wait? My idea wasn’t going anywhere. That little insight changed a lot.

Another way to counterbalance power without shrinking is to be more disclosing. When Francis realized her excellence was keeping people away, she began to share stories about her learning journey, mistakes she’d made early in her career, things she was still struggling with. She didn’t make herself less, but she made herself more human.

You can also give people “operating instructions.” Explain yourself, your style. Malcolm saw he was missing others’ ideas, so he told his team that just because he speaks up quickly and sounds confident doesn’t mean he’s convinced, or even that he’s right. In fact, he’s still in thinking mode, and needs their input.

And simply appreciating different styles is a way to counterbalance yours. I learned to appreciate slower ways of thinking and speaking, that profound insight and ideas come in quieter, slower, and less forceful packages.

Finally, when you’re radiating enthusiasm, certainty, and energy, it can be genuinely hard for others to break in. So invite interruption. Explicitly ask to be checked. Don’t ask, “Am I missing anything?” (You are.) But “What have I missed?” Because there’s a 100% chance you have.

Being a force of nature isn’t a flaw. We cannot tone ourselves down, nor should we. But like all power, it needs to be managed, used to make good things happen, not get in the way of them.