7 phrases in conversation that instantly show a lack of self-confidence, according to psychology

We all give ourselves away in conversation.

Sometimes it’s not our ideas that hold us back—it’s the little phrases we wrap around them.

As soon as they leave our mouth, they nudge people to see us as tentative, unsure, or ready to back down.

The good news?

A few small language tweaks can make a big difference in how confident you come across—and how confident you feel.

As Carol Dweck put it, “The view you adopt for yourself profoundly affects the way you lead your life.”

The words we choose reveal—and shape—that view.

Below are seven phrases that quietly undercut you, plus what to say instead.

1. I might be wrong, but…

Do you hear yourself softening a point before you’ve even made it?

Hedging like this can feel polite or “open-minded,” but it often reads as insecurity.

It telegraphs that you’re preparing to be corrected, which invites people to poke holes.

I used to lead budget reviews in my analyst days.

The moment I opened with, “I could be off here,” the negotiation shifted. Colleagues didn’t lean in to understand; they leaned in to challenge.

Say instead:

• “Here’s what I’m seeing.”

• “Based on X and Y, I recommend Z.”

• “One risk to flag is…”

You can stay open without surrendering your stance.

If you want to invite feedback, add it after your point: “That’s my read—what am I missing?”

2. Sorry, can I just ask a quick question?

Double whammy: an unnecessary apology and a word that shrinks your request—just.

Over-apologizing implies you’re an inconvenience. “Just” makes you sound like you’re sneaking permission.

As noted by Kristin Neff, a leading researcher in self-compassion, “With self-compassion, we give ourselves the same kindness and care we’d give to a good friend.”

A friend with a reasonable question doesn’t need to apologize for existing.

Say instead:

• “Quick question:”

• “I have a question about the timeline.”

• “Thanks for taking this—two quick clarifiers…”

If you truly need to apologize (you missed a deadline, for example), do it once, cleanly: “I missed the mark here. Here’s how I’ll fix it.” Then move on.

3. Does that make sense?

This one sounds harmless.

You finish your point and ask, “Does that make sense?”

But tucked inside is the suggestion that your explanation probably didn’t make sense. It puts the burden on the listener to reassure you.

When I’m coaching clients, I invite specific feedback instead. It signals you trust your clarity and you’re open to discussion.

Say instead:

• “What questions do you have?”

• “How does that land for you?”

• “Which part should we dig into first?”

If you’re genuinely unsure you were clear, own the responsibility: “I might have rushed that. Want me to give a 30-second summary?”

4. I’m not an expert, but…

This is a preemptive demotion.

Unless you’re offering clinical advice or legal counsel, you don’t need to certify your credentials to share an observation.

Most day-to-day decisions are made by thoughtful generalists.

Confidence doesn’t mean pretending you know everything. It means being precise about what you do know.

Say instead:

• “From what I’ve observed…”

• “Here’s my take given the data we have.”

• “I’ve worked with similar cases; here’s what helped.”

If expertise truly matters—say, a specialized technical call—frame your role and your ask: “I’m looking at this from the operations side; can someone with backend expertise validate the assumption about load?”

5. Whatever you think / I’m fine with anything

Ever find yourself punting decisions, especially small ones, because you don’t want to seem difficult?

It feels flexible. But when it’s your default, people stop asking for your input. You become the person who goes along, not the person who leads.

Here’s the psychological pinch: voicing preferences risks rejection. But it also builds self-trust.

Albert Bandura wrote that “Self-efficacy beliefs determine how people feel, think, motivate themselves and behave.”

Every time you name a preference, you quietly strengthen those beliefs.

Say instead:

• “My preference is A; B also works.”

• “Let’s go with Option 2—it gets us feedback fastest.”

• “For lunch, I’m leaning Thai. Open to other ideas.”

Name a direction. You can still be collaborative without disappearing.

6. I’ll try / I’ll do my best

“I’ll try” sounds reasonable, even humble.

But in many contexts, it lands as noncommittal. It leaves your listener wondering what will happen when the going gets tough.

When I was juggling month-end closes and long trail runs on weekends, I learned the hard way that “trying” to make five commitments meant I delivered two.

Now I aim for commitments I can keep and contingencies I can communicate.

Say instead:

• “I will deliver the draft by Tuesday 3 p.m.”

• “I can commit to the outline by Tuesday; the full draft needs Friday.”

• “I need X to meet that deadline. Without it, I can have Y.”

Clear commitments plus clear constraints read as mature and confident.

7. I was wondering if maybe we could… (with lots of justs, kind ofs, and maybes)

Softening words have their place.

They can make requests warmer, especially across cultures or roles.

But when your sentences are padded with fillers, your point gets lost. It’s the conversational version of writing in pencil.

At the farmers’ market where I volunteer, I’ve noticed how the most effective coordinators ask directly and politely: “Could you help at the welcome table from 9 to 10?”

People appreciate knowing exactly what’s needed.

Say instead:

• “Could we move the deadline to Friday?”

• “Let’s test this with 10 users next week.”

• “I’d like to present the findings at the end of the meeting.”

You can always add warmth after the spine of the sentence is set: “Could we move the deadline to Friday? It would give us space to incorporate the new data.”

Why these phrases matter (and how to change them)

Language isn’t just a mirror. It’s a lever.

The way you speak affects how others respond—and how you see yourself.

Swap any one of the phrases above for a bolder alternative and you’ll feel an internal click: Oh, I can say it like that.

A few practical habits to make the shift stick:

• Catch your preamble. Notice what you say in the first five seconds. If it’s a hedge or apology, pause and start again. It’s okay to say, “Let me rephrase that.”

• Lead with the headline. One sentence: “Here’s my recommendation.” Then add context. People perk up when you sound like you trust your own thinking.

• Trim the softeners. Do a “just/kind of/maybe” sweep in emails and chats. Delete what you don’t need. Your writing will instantly sound more assured.

• Ask clean questions. Replace “Does that make sense?” with “What would improve this?” You’ll get better feedback and look more grounded.

• Practice out loud. Before a meeting, say your key point the way you want it to sound. Athletes visualize; speakers rehearse. Same principle.

And give yourself grace while you practice. Changing conversational habits is a rep game. You’ll catch an old phrase halfway out of your mouth—that’s progress. Smile, steer it back, keep going.

One last thought

Confidence isn’t bluster. It’s clarity.

It’s the steady tone of someone who respects their own ideas and leaves room for others.

If you want a north star, use this: say the smallest number of words that communicate the truth.

Then listen.

On VegOutMag we care about practical optimism—the belief that you can grow and that small choices compound.

Your language is one of those choices.

Start with one phrase today. Switch “I might be wrong, but…” to “Here’s what I’m seeing.”

See how the room changes. See how you change.

Because when your words get stronger, your world often follows.