New Med Students Apologize More Than They Breathe.

“Sorry, can I ask a question?”
“Sorry, is this the right room?”
“Sorry, I think this patient might be crashing.”

Somewhere along the way, medicine trains us to shrink ourselves before we ever expand. We enter terrified of inconveniencing anyone. We think the safest thing is to be small, quiet, apologetic.

But I’ll tell you something I learned slowly and painfully: the day you stop apologizing for existing in the room is the day you start stepping into your identity as a future physician.

There’s a difference between humility and self-erasure. Humility is knowing you have things to learn. Self-erasure is acting like you don’t belong at all. And you do belong. That seat wasn’t a clerical error. Someone read your application and believed you could become the kind of person entrusted with human lives.

One of the first residents I admired told me something that stuck with me. She said, “You don’t learn faster by being invisible. You learn faster by being present.” Present means asking the question. Speaking up when something looks wrong. Taking space with intention, not fear.

No one expects you to know everything. They expect you to care enough to try.

The day I stopped leading every sentence with “sorry,” I realized something. Attendings listened more. Residents trusted me more. Nurses taught me more. I became part of the team instead of someone orbiting around it.

Confidence in medicine isn’t arrogance. It’s clarity. It’s the belief that your presence is valuable, even if you’re early in your journey.

One day you will be the doctor others turn to in moments that matter. Start practicing that presence now. Not later. Not after you pass Step. Not after you match.

Today.

Stop apologizing for being in the room. Start rising to the fact that you earned your way in.