You know that moment in a meeting where someone talks a lot? I mean a lot. Stories, opinions, tangents, ideas, clarifications on their clarifications. Lots of input. Lots of voices. Lots of… nothing actually getting decided.
Everyone walks out confused about next steps. Nobody’s quite sure who’s doing what. And there’s that silent acknowledgment in the room: “Well, that meeting could’ve been an email.”
Here’s the thing though: that person has no idea they’re doing it. They genuinely think they’re helping. They think they’re being heard. They’re completely blind to how much space they’re taking up.
I know because I’ve been that person. I’ve sat in meetings convinced I was adding value while unknowingly talking the meeting into circles. The worst part? I had no idea until someone finally pointed it out (in that awkward, mortifying way that still makes me cringe).
That gap between how I thought I was coming across and how I actually was? That was the real problem.
The Blindspot
Here’s the myth: If I’m not talking, I’m not contributing.
And it feels real. Because from inside your own head, you genuinely believe you’re:
- Helping move things forward
- Adding valuable ideas
- Keeping the conversation energised
- Making sure your point gets heard
What you’re not seeing: everyone else is mentally checking out. The silences you’re afraid of aren’t awkward—they’re relief. People are thinking, “How much longer?” and “Why did nobody stop them?”
The cruelest part of this blindspot? The more anxious you are about being invisible, the more you talk. And the more you talk, the less visible you become in any meaningful way. You become the person people try to talk over or cut off.
You’re invisible for the right reasons. You’re notorious for the wrong ones.
How to Spot It in Yourself
Self-awareness is the antidote to this blindspot. And it’s not about judging yourself. It’s about noticing.
Here are the patterns to watch for:
You’re filling the silences. There’s a pause, and you jump in. Not because you have something new to say, but because silence feels dangerous. Your brain says “jump in or you’ll be invisible,” so you do. The result? You’re talking about the same thing three different ways.
You’re explaining your point again. People got it the first time. But you’re nervous they didn’t really get it, so you explain it again. And again. Slightly differently each time. You think you’re being helpful. You’re actually being repetitive.
You’re in a meeting and you’ve said… a lot. Like, objectively more than most people. And you felt like you had to, because your ideas wouldn’t be heard otherwise. But that anxiety? That’s usually wrong. Your ideas would have been fine. You just weren’t trusting the room.
You can’t remember what other people said. Because you were too busy thinking about what you were going to say next. The meeting happened around you, not with you.
People start saying things you already said. And nobody credits you because they didn’t hear you the first time. They heard it, forgot it, and now they’re saying it themselves. You feel invisible and frustrated. But actually, you’re just unreliable. Your point got lost in all your other points.
Any of these ringing true?
What Changes When You See It
Once you spot these patterns in yourself, something shifts. You start noticing in real time.
You feel the urge to jump into a silence and you pause. You think, “Am I doing this because I have something useful to say, or because I’m anxious?” Usually, the answer matters.
You’re about to explain your point again and you catch yourself. You stop. You realise the room heard you the first time.
You notice the gap between what you’re saying and what people are actually listening to. And that gap is so revealing. It tells you everything about where you’re landing.
The anxiety doesn’t go away—but your relationship to it does. Instead of it driving you to talk more, it becomes information. This anxiety means I’m nervous. Nervous people over-explain. So I’m going to stop and listen instead.
That’s not about being quiet. It’s about being aware. And awareness is where real change starts.
The Simple Check
Next time you’re in a meeting, try noticing one thing:
How much am I talking, and how much am I listening?
Not in a judgmental way. Just notice. Is the ratio 70/30? 50/50? 30/70?
Then ask: Is what I’m saying landing, or am I just filling air?
Look for the signs. Are people building on what you said, or waiting for you to finish? Did someone else just say your point better, more concisely? Did anyone look relieved when you stopped talking?
These aren’t failures. They’re data. They’re your blindspot becoming visible.
The best meetings aren’t won by the person who talks the most. They’re moved forward by the person who knows when to speak and when to listen. Who catches themselves mid-explanation and stops. Who leaves room for others.
That’s not about confidence. It’s about awareness.
You don’t need to talk more. You need to notice when you’re doing it. Everything else follows from there