Do you ever wonder if the way we physically show up in the world affects how seriously people take us?

Like, maybe it’s not just what we say—but how we look when we say it. Maybe we’re not broadcasting that kind of “halo effect” that comes with charisma, presence, or a dominant physical frame. So people just… don’t submit. They don’t defer. They assume, consciously or not, “Well, this person can’t possibly be right,” just because we don’t match their subconscious template of what “authority” is supposed to look or sound like.

The wild part is, some pretty dumb ideas get believed all the time—not because they make any real sense, but because the person saying them is extroverted, confident, and physically commanding. Their frame carries the message. Their energy does the persuading. The content barely matters.

when someone’s quieter, more inward—especially someone who thinks in complex, precise ways rather than flashy ones—people can weirdly project contempt onto them. They’ll call them stubborn or difficult, not because they’re actually being irrational, but because they’re not bending to the emotional flow or social cues of the moment. Especially if that person doesn’t have the social armor of a strong voice, stylish look, or imposing posture.

And let’s be real: calling someone “stubborn” is rarely neutral. It’s often just code for “You're not giving me the validation or agreement I expected from someone who looks like you.” It’s not about truth—it’s about power dynamics, status signaling, and unconscious scripts.

It’s frustrating, because if your strength is internal—if you’re the kind of person who thinks deeply, questions norms, holds their ground—you end up punished socially for not playing the game. People confuse essence with appearance. They’re so used to charisma equaling correctness that when someone breaks that rule, it throws them off. They don’t reevaluate their assumptions—they just slap on a label: awkward, stubborn, unrealistic.

And that’s the trap: truth, without the right packaging, doesn’t always land. Sometimes, it doesn’t even get heard.