I follow Entertainment Tonight correspondent Keltie Knight on social media. She hosts a podcast called The LadyGang that I enjoy, and a few years back on the podcast she shared how she creates a manifest list with every new year. She manifests personal goals – whether they’re health related, financial milestones or relationship goals. She also manifests career–related accomplishments, for example: get a raise, find a new career, go back to school.

She inspired me to do the same, so for the past several years at the start of the new year, I always make my own manifest list. My list consists of achievements that I’m manifesting for the year – for example, under personal goals, I wrote that I wanted to read at least 12 books this year. This number is incredibly low in comparison to how much I used to read when I was younger, but as I’ve grown older, free time has been more and more fleeting. I can happily report, though, that I’m on book nine.

But I’m not here to talk about books.

When it came time to write down career goals, I put several. One of them being: stop using the word “just.”

Allow me to explain.

Last week, one of our Staff Writers, Sarah Heinonen, shared a post on Facebook that originally came from @rosespeaks_ on Instagram. The post read the following:

“Don’t kneecap your sentences. It’s hard to not use the little modifiers women are expected to use when speaking. Words like “just,” “maybe,” and “sort of.””

The post then breaks away and gives examples of kneecapping.

•“That sort of makes me uncomfortable.”

•“Maybe you should leave.”

•“I’m just trying to help.”

“These modifiers intentionally soften anything we say, and it undermines us. It’s part of the same performance that includes smiling all the time and always being the first to move out of the way when someone could easily go around you.”

I decided that I wanted to stop using the word “just” because it is unnecessary and apologetic. Every instance that I was using the word in the past I did not have anything to be apologetic for.

Last year, I found myself bending over backward to try to come across as polite when writing emails to not only people I work with but also people outside of work – my car insurance person, the man at the dealership that I was buying my new car from, an apartment rental agency that I wanted to give a good impression to.

For example – here’s what an email to the car dealership looked like. The dealership was about to be late in getting me my registration, therefore I wouldn’t be able to drive my new car if I didn’t have it on hand.

“Hi John Doe, I was just wondering what the status of my car registration is? My understanding is that if I don’t have it by tomorrow I won’t be able to drive my car. If you could please give me the status of where the registration is, it would be greatly appreciated. Thanks so much!”

Wait, wait, wait. Who wrote that email?

As someone who prides herself on being direct, I took a step back and had to reassess. Why was I writing this way? Why was I being overly polite and coming off as apologetic for asking someone for paperwork that I was promised?

Here’s what it should have said:

“Good afternoon John Doe, I am seeking the status of my car registration. If I don’t have it by tomorrow, I won’t be able to drive my car. I was told I would have it days ago. Please let me know where it is as soon as possible. Thank you.”

Qualifiers are not necessary. I was promised something, it was growing dangerously close to the promise being reneged on, so I had to act. There was no need for me to be apologetic – there was a need for me to state the facts.

I did a little research into kneecapping and I found many articles on the subject. An article in Well + Good by Kells McPhillips explains that kneecapping plagues women in particular. “It makes us think we need to add modifiers so that our message comes across like a cool summer breeze – no matter it’s content.”

McPhillips continued to share that psychotherapist Maggie Jones, MA, LPCC, explained kneecapping this way: “When we are so tuned–into other’s emotions and potential reactions it can be hard NOT to subconsciously soften our words in order to avoid potential conflict.”

I never used to use modifiers in my writing – at least, not to the extent that that I was last year. I noticed this shift in my writing over the past year when the pandemic hit and we stopped seeing people in person. I also noticed this shift in my writing as I began writing opinion articles. It’s never fun when people criticize. It’s obviously more enjoyable to be well–liked. I don’t want to come across as rude, or insensitive, or like a bother.

That said, I could tell this was a detriment. I was doing myself a disservice by constantly modifying my sentences with “Just bringing this to your attention again!” and “I’m just trying to create efficiencies…” and “Maybe we should just [complete said task] this way.”

As an article by idivia.com explains, “It’s like you’ve walked into their home uninvited at 9 p.m. while they are hosting a dinner you have not been invited to, and to avoid awkwardness, you say, “I just popped in to drop your mail that accidentally got delivered to my house.” But in a work situation, if you’re checking in on work that needs to be done, you don’t need to sound apologetic about it. Men definitely don’t. Why should you?”

When my (lovely) car insurance agent called my mother with questions about my policy, my mom relayed the questions from the agent to me. My first question in response to my mom was, “Why did she call you and not me? I don’t care if she talks to you about my policy – you’re my mom – but the fact is, I’m a nearly 26–year–old woman...I can handle my own business.” My mom agreed.

So when I wrote my email response to my agent, the 2021 version of me was direct when I explained that though I did not mind her speaking with my mother about my policy, I am an adult. I pay for my own car insurance. All calls should be to me – my mom is busy enough.

2020 Payton would have written an email to the agent practically apologizing for having to tell her to direct calls to me. I would have said, “I hate to sound rude, but would you mind directing calls regarding my policy to me instead of my mom? She’s busy, and I just don’t want to bother her with my paperwork!”

And so, I’ve set off on my removal of “just.”

The reaction from my coworkers?

There hasn’t been one, of course. Why would there be? I don’t need to apologize for doing my job.

This tiny adjustment has been liberating.