Why Speaking Your Truth Still Feels Risky, Even With People You Love

By Ann Barbour | Inspired by Unmasking: The Rebel Mask

We like to think that the people closest to us—our families, our partners, our lifelong friends—are safe places to be ourselves. But for many of us, that’s exactly where speaking up feels most threatening. Not because we don’t love them, but because we do.

In our latest episode of Unmasking, I sat down with Katie Nydegger to explore the Rebel Mask—not the wild, rule-breaking version, but the quiet, steady resistance of a woman learning to trust her own voice.

“It took me a lot of growing into adulthood to trust my voice and not feel like I could do damage by just saying what felt true for me.”

— Katie Nydegger

For Katie, the fear wasn’t about being wrong—it was about being at odds. With the people she loved most. About things that mattered. And that kind of friction can feel like rejection waiting to happen.

Even when we know logically that our relationships are solid, the body remembers otherwise. It remembers childhood moments when disagreement meant punishment, withdrawal, or shame. It remembers cultural messages that told us “nice girls don’t make waves.” So we adapt. We play small. We say yes when we mean no. And we keep the truth tucked inside, waiting for the “right time” to share it.

But that time rarely comes.

The Risk of Being Real

When we finally do speak, it often feels disproportionately risky. Not because the stakes are actually that high—but because the cost of not speaking has quietly built up over time.

“As simple as it sounds, it can feel very rebellious and brave... especially in the relationships I care most about.”

— Katie Nydegger

That word—especially—is key. In intimate relationships, the fear isn’t just about conflict. It’s about the potential rupture of the bond itself. We wonder:

• Will I still be loved if I say this?
• Will they see me differently?
• Am I making a big deal out of something small?

So we stay quiet a little longer. And slowly, without realizing it, we trade truth for harmony. But what we get is a thinner version of both.

Permission to Be Honest

Katie’s story is a gentle, radical invitation to stop waiting for the “perfect conditions” to be honest. There’s no ideal time, no guaranteed outcome. But the reward for stepping in anyway is a deeper alignment with who we are—and a chance to build relationships that can actually hold our full selves.

“The rebel has some space to relax now, because I feel so loved and supported. That wasn’t always the case.”

— Katie Nydegger

What changed? Not the people around her, but the belief that love could hold the truth. And sometimes that belief doesn’t arrive until we test it—carefully, imperfectly, in real time.

3 Ways to Practice Brave Honesty (Even If It Feels Scary)

1. Start small and slow.

   Try sharing a low-stakes preference (“Actually, I’d rather not do that today”) to build your tolerance for discomfort.

2. Honor the pause.

   Before you speak, breathe. Let the intention settle. Ask yourself, “What is my truth—and what do I hope this brings forward?”

3. Let go of outcome.

   Speaking your truth isn’t about getting agreement. It’s about integrity. It’s about coming home to yourself, no matter how it lands.

Reflection Prompt:

Where are you holding back your truth to protect connection—and is that connection still real if it depends on your silence?

Katie’s courage reminds us that rebellion doesn’t always look like a loud no. Sometimes, it’s the quiet, deliberate choice to be honest anyway. And that might be the bravest thing you do this week.