The Cost of Containment
Your Reflection
On the surface, this is about colleagues who are loud, performative, and a bit messy in meetings, and your irritation with how they still seem to succeed. Underneath, there's a much sharper edge: a flash of hatred and a wish to see them fail, followed by you clamping it all down and doubling down on work and professionalism. This reaction feels bigger than the situation, like it's poking at a deeper wound around what is allowed, respectable, and worthy of success — and maybe a part of you that never got permission to be big, messy, or visibly ambitious. This entry is inviting you to look not just at them, but at the part of you that wants that same freedom and visibility, and has had to exile it in order to feel safe and respectable.
Patterns & Triggers
Projected Arrogance
The people you describe as "too loud" and "taking up too much space" may be carrying qualities you've been trained to see as arrogant or inappropriate, and so you've pushed those traits out of your own identity. When we feel a flash of hatred toward someone who is visible, messy, and still rewarded, it often means a banished part of us is watching, too — the part that wants to be big, expressive, and unedited. The hatred becomes a way to keep that part locked away: "If I call it awful in them, I can't possibly allow it in myself."
Perfectionism Defense
You describe pride in being the "contained" one who speaks only when the data is ready, which sounds like a carefully crafted persona built on control, polish, and not making mistakes. This perfectionistic stance likely protected you — earning respect, safety, or predictability — but it now turns into a defense: if you're always prepared and composed, no one can accuse you of being sloppy or unprofessional. The downside is that this defense makes spontaneity and visible imperfection feel dangerous, so when others succeed while being messy, it doesn't just annoy you, it threatens the whole logic your safety has been built on.
Inadequacy Wound
The intensity of your hatred when others succeed by being performative suggests that some old belief is being activated — something like, "If I show up as I am, it won't be enough" or "I have to be perfect to deserve success." When those around you seem to bypass those rules and still get rewarded, it can feel like a direct invalidation of everything you've done to be good, contained, and thorough. That sting often points to a deeper wound of not feeling inherently enough, and having to constantly prove worth through flawless performance.
Disowned Power
Loudness, visibility, and taking up space are all forms of power — social, emotional, charismatic power. Since you've aligned yourself with restraint and containment, it's possible that your own boldness and desire to be seen have been split off and judged as "too much" or "unprofessional." When disowned power shows up in others, it can look like arrogance or showmanship from the outside, but underneath your reaction there may be a part of you thinking, "I want some of that. Why don't I get to live like that?"
Inner Judge
You're very aware that your hatred feels "unprofessional" and you quickly push it down under more work, which shows how active your inner judge is. This inner figure polices not just your behavior in meetings, but even your private emotional life, telling you which feelings are acceptable and which must be buried immediately. Over time, this can make you appear cold or distant to others, not because you don't care, but because your inner judge is constantly tightening the lid on anything messy, emotional, or socially risky.
Comparison Trigger
The irritation is not simply about their volume; it's about watching them succeed in ways that violate your internal rulebook for how success is supposed to be earned. Comparison here isn't just "they have what I want," it's "they broke the rules I've been obeying, and they're being rewarded for it." That tension between your rule-following self and their seemingly rule-breaking success creates a deep sense of injustice, which quickly morphs into coldness and hostile wishes for them to fail.
The Trace
- One place to start this week is simply noticing, in real time, when that flash of hatred or hard irritation arises — especially the instant before your mind labels them as "too much." When it happens, silently ask yourself: "What exactly are they doing that I would never allow myself to do?" and then name it specifically: interrupting, speaking without perfect data, showing emotion, owning their achievements, etc. This moves the focus from "they're unbearable" to "these are the behaviors my system has banned in me," which is where the real shadow work lives.
- You might experiment with micro-acts of taking up just a bit more space in a way that still feels safe enough. For example, in one meeting, allow yourself to speak before your point is 100% polished, or offer a thought that's 80% baked instead of waiting for perfect clarity. Afterwards, journal about what actually happened versus what you feared would happen; this helps your nervous system gather evidence that a little messiness doesn't equal catastrophe, and it begins to loosen the perfectionistic grip that keeps you so tightly contained.
- There's also something important in the part of you that wants them to fail — that's a raw, honest energy that usually hides a deeper need for fairness and recognition. In a quiet moment, you could write from the voice of that part, almost like a letter: "I am the part of you that wants them to fall on their face because…" and let it rant without censoring. Then, as your more adult, compassionate self, respond to that part: validate how exhausting it is to feel you must always be composed and how painful it is to watch others break the "rules" you live by; often, this internal dialogue softens the hatred into grief, longing, or frustrated desire for freedom.
- Brief Practice: Picture one of these "too loud" colleagues in your mind and notice the exact behavior that triggers you most. Place a hand on your chest and whisper to yourself, "Some part of me wants this freedom too." Take three slow breaths, just letting that possibility exist without forcing yourself to do anything about it yet.
Integration Prompts
When you think back to earlier parts of your life, where did you first learn that being contained, prepared, and "professional" was the right — or only safe — way to be? Were there people around you who were louder or messier and were judged, shamed, or dismissed for it, and how did you take those lessons into yourself? Letting these memories surface can help you see that your current stance came from somewhere very understandable, not from a flaw in you.
Imagine, just in your mind, that you had full permission to be a bit loud, a bit messy, and to take up more space without losing respect or safety. What would you actually want to do or express in a meeting if you weren't policing yourself so tightly — would you joke more, share half-formed ideas, show excitement, challenge someone? Noticing what you secretly want to do gives you clues about the parts of you that are currently living in the shadow.
When you notice yourself becoming cold toward your team, what are you protecting yourself from feeling in that moment — is it envy, hurt, unfairness, fear of being left behind, or something else? If you didn't have to be "the professional one" for a second, what would you want to say honestly about how their behavior impacts you and what you're needing? Exploring this in writing first can make it easier to later choose if and how you want to communicate more openly, without letting the buried hatred drive the conversation.
That doesn't mean the impulse has to become your behavior. Feeling something and acting on it are different. You already do the same containment you wrote about — burying the feeling under work and tightening up toward the team — and that's a recognizable defense pattern. If you want to work with it, a simple next step is noticing the flash in the moment and naming it (silently: "hatred/jealousy/grief"), feel where it sits in your body, and let it be there without immediate action. You might add some notes to this entry about how the feeling shows up physically or try a quick internal dialogue: let the part that wants them to fail speak for a minute, then reply as a calmer, adult part.
If more comes up, you could record a follow-up entry here about one of those moments — what you feared would happen and what actually did — so we can track how this pattern shifts. That's the part that seems to stay with you.