7 things people from working-class backgrounds do in public without realizing it gives them away

We carry our histories with us, often in ways we don’t notice until someone points them out.

Class is like that; it shapes what feels normal in public spaces, from how we order coffee to how we split a bill.

I grew up around people who stretched dollars, fixed what was broken, and said please and thank you like it mattered.

Later, I spent years as a financial analyst before I started writing.

That mix taught me to spot the subtle money scripts we all run.

Some of these habits serve us beautifully, while others hold us back or make us tense when we don’t need to be.

If you’re curious about the signals you might be sending, here are seven common tells I see out in the wild, along with gentle ways to work with them:

1) Looking at the price before the product

Do you scan the price tag before you even let yourself want the thing?

At a restaurant, do your eyes jump to the right side of the menu first?

I’ve done this at fancy places with friends and felt my shoulders tighten before the server even showed up.

Price-first seeing is practical, as it keeps budgets intact, but here’s the twist: When we lead with price in every situation, we can come across as anxious or shut down, especially if others at the table are chatting about the chef’s specials like they’re choosing art.

Decide your range before you walk in, then let yourself choose within that range without commentary.

If you’re with a group, you can say, “I’m thinking of the veggie bowl,” and leave it there.

No explanations about cost and no self-deprecating jokes.

You’re allowed to choose what fits and still enjoy the moment.

If the menu is a stressor, I sometimes check it online beforehand.

As a vegan, I also scan for plant-based options.

Doing both reduces decision fatigue.

Planning is allowed, while apologizing for your choices isn’t required.

2) Asking for separate checks right away

This one is common at group meals.

The server hasn’t taken drink orders yet, and someone says, “Can we do separate checks?”

I’ve said it myself; it’s protection against the dreaded moment when a shared check arrives and you subsidize other people’s cocktails.

Still, the early request can announce money anxiety to the table.

Not everyone hears it that way, but some do.

If you want to avoid that dynamic, agree on the plan before the meal starts.

A quick text works: “Hey, let’s do separate checks tonight so it’s easy.”

Transparency up front feels calm and kind.

If you missed that window, wait until entrées are ordered and ask quietly: “Could we separate mine, please?”

Short and neutral, no long story.

The goal is to honor it.

One more option I like: Name the boundary early with warmth.

“I’m in for dinner but skipping drinks.”

That single sentence prevents awkward math and gives you room to relax.

3) Over-apologizing for taking space

“I’m sorry, is this seat taken?”

“Sorry, can I ask a question?”

“Sorry, can I get a refill?”

You hear it in lines, cafés, and meetings.

Apologizing for existing is a habit many of us picked up to keep the peace.

It also quickly signals that you see yourself as an inconvenience.

The fix is kinder speech; replace sorry with thanks or clarity.

Nine times out of ten, the interaction improves for everyone.

People respond to steady, respectful energy.

If it feels strange at first, write a few swaps in your notes app.

Language re-trains posture.

4) Self-deprecating humor as a social buffer

This type of humor can get a laugh and buy quick belonging but, over time, they teach people to see you smaller than you are.

They also exhaust you, and it’s hard to keep mocking yourself and still believe in your future.

Here’s a better script: Neutral honesty without the undercut.

You keep the humility, and lose the self-eraser.

I once stood in a kitchen at a friend’s high-gloss party, surrounded by bottles I couldn’t pronounce.

The host asked what I liked.

I almost said, “I drink whatever’s on sale.”

Instead, I said, “Crisp, not sweet.”

He poured a glass that was perfect!

Nobody needed the self-drag for us to connect.

5) Treating rules and staff as immovable forces

Growing up, you learn that rules keep you safe.

You stand exactly where the tape tells you, you wait, and you do not want to be a problem.

In public, you follow every sign to the letter and assume staff members are too busy to help.

People notice this: You can spot it in postures that shrink at counters or by doors, in voices that go quiet around authority figures in uniforms or name tags.

There’s nothing wrong with respect but, when respect turns into fear, you forfeit options you could easily have.

Next time you’re at a store, ask for what you need with eye contact and a steady tone: “Hi, is there a student discount on these?” or “Could you check if there’s a plant-based version in the back?”

If the answer is no, it’s no.

My favorite quote here is from Maya Angelou: “Ask for what you want and be prepared to get it.”

Prepared means present, and it’s a relief for both sides when you show up that way.

6) Planning around waste and wear in visible ways

This one shows up on sidewalks, buses, gyms, and grocery lines.

You carry a sturdy tote that has been repaired, you bring your lunch in a reused jar, you save the last two dollars on your transit card and time your refill, and you ask for a to-go box before you start eating so you don’t over-portion on the plate.

These habits are efficient and environmentally kind.

They also telegraph a lifetime of making everything last.

I see them all the time when I volunteer at our local farmers’ market.

People bring containers, consolidate purchases, and ask which produce holds up best in the fridge.

It’s beautiful and it’s also a tell; if you worry these behaviors signal scarcity, frame them as values.

As a vegan and a runner, this is true for me.

I want fuel that makes me feel good and choices that align with my ethics.

No apology needed.

If you want to soften the signal in certain rooms, you can.

Skip the jar one day, use the restaurant’s box, and wear the polished pair of shoes you save for job interviews because you’re choosing the message you send.

7) Code-switching so hard you vanish

Many of us shift our vocabulary, accent, or stories depending on where we are.

At work, a different voice.

With family, another.

In a fancy lobby, sentences get extra formal.

Code-switching is a survival skill as it opens doors but, when the switch is so intense that you lose your natural cadence in public settings, people can sense the strain.

The goal is to pick your register on purpose.

Before you walk into a room that nudges you toward performance, choose two phrases that feel like you.

Maybe it’s “Good to see you” and “Tell me what you’re excited about.”

Use them to anchor back to yourself when the environment pulls you away.

One more trick from my analyst days: Prep one story about your life that fits many rooms.

Mine is about trail running before sunrise because it clears my head.

That conversation can go deep with athletes, practical with managers, and warm with neighbors.

It’s true, and it still sounds like me.

Closing thoughts

The behaviors that “give you away” are also the ones that kept you afloat.

Price awareness prevents debt, respect keeps relationships clean, and resourcefulness reduces waste.

These are strengths.

When you notice yourself doing one of the seven things above, pause and ask, “Is this serving me right now?”

If yes, keep it; if not, choose a lighter move.

No shame, just skill.

Public spaces are easier when you believe your life counts the moment you walk in.

You don’t have to apologize for your story to be seen because you can be practical, principled, and present.

When you’re ready to take up a little more room, you’ll already know how.