Psychology claims why compulsive interrupters might secretly feel superior to you and what that uncovers about their deepest insecurities

You’re in the middle of explaining an idea at work when it happens again. A colleague jumps in with that familiar “Actually…” tone, nudging your words aside and taking control of the conversation as if it naturally belongs to them. For a split second, your mind spirals: Did I sound unsure? Was I rambling? Should I have spoken faster? Your train of thought derails. They confidently grab the spotlight. The room carries on like this is just how meetings go.

Later, on your commute home, you replay it. Something feels off. The interrupter’s laugh was a bit forced. Their explanation dragged on too long. Their smile looked stretched, not relaxed. Suddenly, you see it differently. Maybe this wasn’t pure confidence. Maybe something far more fragile was speaking over you.
And whatever it is, it’s not as powerful as it pretends to be.

Why Constant Interrupters Act Like They’re Above You

Conversations aren’t just exchanges of ideas. Psychologists often describe them as subtle power negotiations. Who leads, who follows, who gets heard. People who interrupt frequently have unconsciously decided their voice deserves priority. It’s rarely accidental and almost never neutral.

Also read

Modern short haircuts for women over 60 that stylists swear make thin hair look thicker and leave no one indifferent Update

When someone slices into your sentence again and again, the unspoken message is clear: My input matters more right now. They may not consciously think this, but their nervous system behaves as if silence equals invisibility. To them, pauses feel dangerous.

Imagine presenting a new proposal in a meeting. Before you reach your second sentence, your manager cuts in: “What she’s trying to say is…” and rephrases your idea as his own. Heads turn toward him. You feel yourself shrink.

Then, later, that same manager lingers by your desk asking, “That went okay, right?” His voice is overly upbeat. He seems to crave validation. The irony is striking. The person who hijacked your voice now seeks reassurance from you.

Research on dominance behaviors shows an interesting pattern. Frequent interrupters often display high social dominance traits but also elevated social anxiety. Control becomes their safety net. By steering the conversation, they calm their inner uncertainty.

Sometimes this pattern forms early. Maybe they grew up in a household where only the loudest voice got attention. Maybe approval was conditional, tied to performance or quick wit. Over time, their brain learned: If I don’t speak first, I might disappear.

What Compulsive Interrupting Really Reveals

Behind many chronic interrupters lies a surprisingly delicate ego. Their outward boldness hides an inner fear of being overshadowed. They speak over you not because you lack value, but because they fear lacking it themselves.

Studies on narcissistic tendencies reveal that grand gestures and dominating behavior can mask deep insecurity. Interruptions become a shield. They rush in to redirect attention before it drifts somewhere that threatens their sense of importance.

Think of the friend who always upgrades your story. You mention being exhausted. They counter with an even more dramatic tale. You share a career goal. They pivot to their own bigger achievement. Every exchange turns into a competition.

It feels exhausting because it is. They aren’t listening to connect; they’re listening for a launchpad.

Psychologically, this behavior is often overcompensation. When someone feels small inside, they try to act large outside. If they worry about being ordinary, they amplify themselves in every conversation.

That’s why simply asking them to “stop interrupting” rarely works. You’re not just correcting a habit. You’re challenging a coping mechanism they’ve relied on for years.

Interestingly, people who feel secure don’t rush to dominate discussions. When you’re not battling a constant inner critic, you can comfortably let others shine. You don’t feel erased by someone else’s voice.

How to Keep Your Voice Without Becoming Aggressive

Dealing with interrupters doesn’t require matching their intensity. In fact, the opposite approach is often more effective. Assertiveness training suggests a simple technique: pause, breathe, and calmly say, “I’d like to finish my thought.” Then continue speaking.

Also read

Neither sudoku nor novels : a hobby over?60s should adopt and its hidden benefits for the brain

Keep your tone steady. Not sharp. Not apologetic. Just firm.

Your posture reinforces your message. Sit upright. Maintain eye contact. Avoid rushing to reclaim your sentence. When you slow down instead of speeding up, you subtly signal confidence.

Many of us were taught to be agreeable. When interrupted, we laugh it off or say, “Oh, go ahead.” On the outside, we appear gracious. Inside, resentment quietly builds.

The danger of staying silent too often is that it sets a pattern. Chronic interrupters interpret it as approval. In their mind, the hierarchy is confirmed.

Sometimes the simplest boundary carries the most weight: “I wasn’t finished.”

If the behavior continues, address it privately. “I’ve noticed I get cut off when I’m speaking. I need space to complete my points.” Neutral language reduces defensiveness.

Nonverbal cues can help too. A gentle raised hand. Leaning slightly forward. A calm “One second.” These subtle anchors support your words.

At the same time, be realistic. Some people are open to feedback. Others are deeply attached to their conversational dominance. You’re not responsible for fixing every insecure personality you encounter.

What Their Interruptions Reflect About You

A powerful shift happens when you stop interpreting interruptions as proof that you’re uninteresting. Instead, you see them as reflections of someone else’s internal tension. This perspective changes how you speak.

You become less apologetic. More grounded. Less reactive.

You also start noticing who truly listens. Who waits. Who asks thoughtful follow-up questions. These are the people who create psychological safety. And as your self-respect strengthens, you naturally gravitate toward them.

Most of us have replayed conversations late at night thinking, Why didn’t I say anything? Growth begins the first time you gently reclaim your voice.

It might feel awkward. Your voice may shake. The sentence may come out imperfectly.

But the moment you choose to finish your thought, you send a message to yourself more than anyone else: I deserve to be heard.