Soft Strength: How to Hold a Boundary Without Over-Explaining (Even When You’re Caught Off Guard)

In a recent episode of my podcast (Sky High Coaching Conversations) I shared a real-life moment that surprised me, challenged me, and ultimately reminded me why Soft Strength is such a powerful skill set for women to learn. I’m going to share it here too, because even though it happened in a matter of seconds, it holds a lesson that applies to boardrooms, friendships, family dynamics, and those everyday situations where you can feel yourself shrinking, smoothing, swallowing, or second-guessing.

For the last little while, my work with clients has been circling around the same theme: what happens in the moment you don’t expect. Not the moments you can plan for, rehearse for, or write a perfect response to in your Notes app. I mean the moments that arrive suddenly, with a jolt. The ones where your nervous system speaks before your mouth does. The ones where you’re shocked, caught off guard, or quietly intimidated, and you notice yourself either freezing, fleeing, fawning, or fighting. Most women I work with are intelligent, articulate, and deeply perceptive. They’re not lacking confidence. They’re responding to a dynamic in real time, and the body is often the first to react.

Life, in its cheeky way, has a habit of giving me field research right when I’m teaching something. I’ll be immersed in a concept with clients, and then the universe will serve me a situation where I get to practise it in the wild. Last weekend, it happened again. I found myself in a moment that normally flips the “good girl” switch on inside me. You know the one I mean. The part of you that wants to keep things smooth, be agreeable, avoid conflict, and not be “that woman”. Even when you’re uncomfortable. Even when something is clearly not okay. Even when you’re quietly furious.

I was at a social event, sitting in the sun, having a genuinely fabulous time with friends. Then I caught an unpleasant scent in the air and realised people were smoking nearby. Not subtly, either. And this mattered, because it was a non-smoking area. It wasn’t one of those grey-area situations where you wonder if you’re being too sensitive. It was a clear boundary that was being ignored, and I was unhappy about it. Normally, in a moment like that, I would do what so many of us do. I would stay quiet. I would move away. I would make it my problem. I would swallow it, tolerate it, and avoid rocking the boat. There’s a particular flavour of old conditioning in that, isn’t there? The belief that peace is kept by your silence. The idea that being liked is more important than being comfortable.

But this time, I didn’t do that. I said something. I asked them to move. I said I didn’t want to breathe in their smoke and could they go elsewhere. And I’ll be honest with you, I don’t remember saying please. I might not have delivered it in the polished, perfectly composed way I would’ve preferred. I’m telling you that for two reasons. First, because we’re all a work in progress and no one is perfect. Second, because I want you to know you don’t need to be perfect to hold a boundary. You don’t need the perfect script. You don’t need the flawless tone. You don’t need to get it “right” to be allowed to take up space.

In response, a woman turned to me and called me a very rude name. An unacceptable name.

And the moment she said it, I felt it hit my body like electricity. That shock. That jolt that runs straight through the nervous system and says, get away. Move. Make it safe. Leave the moment. You don’t even have to think for that response to happen. It’s immediate. It’s biological. It’s ancient. It’s the protective mechanism that kicks in when you’re suddenly confronted, shamed, or threatened, even socially. In that split second, the body wants what it wants. It wants to flee. Or freeze. Or fawn, which is the smoothing and fixing and laughing when nothing’s funny. Or it wants to fight.

I could feel that impulse rise in me. The urge to retreat. To distance myself. To explain myself. To over-justify. To get away from the discomfort of being seen as “difficult”, or of being attacked for having a boundary.

But, I didn’t obey it. I didn’t run. I didn’t retreat. I didn’t start defending myself or over-talking to try and make her understand. I didn’t fire back with words. Instead, I anchored. I literally anchored into my body. My feet on the ground. My breath slowed. My shoulders softened down. And rather than meeting her aggression with more words, I met her with presence.

This is the part I really want you to understand, because it’s where Soft Strength lives. Soft Strength is not about being nice. It’s not about being agreeable. It’s not about smoothing everything over so nobody feels uncomfortable. Soft Strength is emotional authority. It’s the ability to stay connected to yourself in a charged moment. It’s being so regulated in your nervous system that you can hold your line without needing to prove anything. It’s a boundary that doesn’t require a speech.

There was a moment of silent communication between us. We looked at each other, and I didn’t say anything, but I communicated clearly. That word is not okay. You don’t speak to me like that. This line is real. Not aggressive. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just steady. And here’s the part that stunned me. Her bravado disappeared. You could almost see it drain out of her face. Her face relaxed. She looked anxious. Contrite. She started apologising profusely.

Now, I don’t know her. I still don’t. I don’t know what she expected would happen when she threw that word at me. I do know that as she apologised, she mumbled something about how she uses that word with her friends and it’s a word of endearment. By then she was rambling. I stayed quiet. And then she left.

What shifted in that moment wasn’t her personality. People don’t become different humans in thirty seconds. What shifted was the dynamic. Power requires a dynamic. Influence is relational. Impact happens in the space between people. When someone uses shame, insult, intimidation, or sharpness, it often relies on you collapsing. On you shrinking. On you rushing to smooth it over. On you abandoning yourself to keep the peace. When you don’t do that, when you stay anchored, the dynamic changes. Not because you won, but because you didn’t leave yourself.

So what did I do, practically, that you can take from here and use?

First, I slowed down on the inside. That’s key, because you can look calm on the outside and still be spiralling internally.

Second, I grounded in my body, through my feet and breath.

Third, I didn’t overtalk. I didn’t defend, convince, justify, or perform.

And fourth, I held a line with stillness, eye contact, and calm.

It was a boundary without a battle.

This matters because so many women are brilliant with words. They can write the email. They can craft the perfect message. They can explain what they should have said afterwards with forensic precision. But in the moment, the body takes over. The nervous system decides. And if you recognise yourself in this, it isn’t about trying harder to be confident. It’s about building the capacity to stay present in your body when it matters. It’s about being able to stay with your sensations when you’re shocked, when someone disapproves of you, when someone tries to shame you back into submission.

And yes, I’m going to use the word softer here, but I mean it in a very specific way. Not softer as in weaker. Softer as in less armoured. Less reactive. Less rushed. More anchored. Because when you’re anchored, you’re powerful. When you’re anchored, your boundary lands without a speech. When you’re anchored, your presence communicates something deeper than words ever could: I mean what I’m saying.

If you want this kind of grounded presence to be something you can rely on, you don’t wait until the high-stakes moments to practise it. You practise coming home to your body on ordinary days, so you can access it on the extraordinary ones. That’s the work. That’s Soft Strength. And it changes everything.

Want to practise this with me?

If this is landing and you’re thinking, yep… that’s me, come and join us for Softly Unshakeable - a free 90-minute Zoom immersion where we’ll dive in together. Think of it as an introduction to the work. A chance to name the pattern, understand what’s really happening in the moment, and leave with one or two tools you can use straight away.

And if you already know you’re ready to build this into something you can rely on, The Soft Strength Salon is where the real change happens. Not insight. Not theory. Practice. Until your voice is there when you need it - even when it’s hot.

Until next time… keep expanding, creating and leading.

Janelle Ryan is a globally recognised personal, career and leadership coach who works with high-performing professionals and established leaders navigating growth, change and the next phase of their life and leadership. She is the founder of Sky High Coaching, an international speaker, retreat leader and published author, known for her work on internal authority, soft strength and sustainable success. Janelle blends deep insight with practical application to help capable women lead with clarity, confidence and precision.