women making wine choices

Something interesting happens the moment the wine list lands on the table.

Someone says, “I don’t really know much about wine.”

Or, “I’ll just order what I always drink.”

Maybe it’s, “Let’s get whatever’s cheapest – I can’t tell the difference anyway.”

These statements are rarely necessary. No one asked for a disclaimer, yet many women in particular instinctively offer one before making a choice.

It’s curious how women who confidently lead teams, manage households, negotiate contracts, or make countless decisions every day can suddenly hesitate when handed a wine list.

According to Dr. Joti Samra, registered psychologist and CEO/founder of MyWorkplaceHealth, the hesitation isn’t really about wine at all. 

“Confidence is often domain-specific, meaning we may be highly competent in one area due to building up years of experience and receiving reinforcing feedback that builds that confidence,” she says. In other words, confidence doesn’t automatically transfer from one area of life to another. Even highly accomplished people can feel uncertain when stepping into a domain they perceive as unfamiliar.

Read about: How Debbie Trenholm turned her love of wine into a celebration of Canadian flavour

Even after years of writing about wine, I still feel a twinge of pressure when someone asks me to choose the bottle for the table. What if no one likes it? What if it’s more expensive than everyone expected? The decision suddenly feels like a reflection of more than just personal taste.

The irony is that I’ve rarely met anyone who knows every grape variety, producer, or wine region – or who can consistently identify wines blind. Even professionals are still learning. The difference is that experience teaches you it’s okay not to know everything.

Mistaking unfamiliarity for inadequacy

Wine occupies an unusual place in our culture. Unlike ordering a cocktail or a beer, choosing wine often carries an expectation of expertise. Labels are filled with unfamiliar regions and grape varieties, prices can vary dramatically, and conversations can quickly become sprinkled with technical language. Ordering a bottle can feel less like making a personal preference and more like taking a test, one where everyone else seems to know the answers.

For women, that pressure to get it right seems to be heightened. 

According to Dr. Samra, “There are societal expectations where women are encouraged to be agreeable, avoid mistakes, and not appear overly confident unless they’re highly knowledgeable.” Add perfectionism and fear of judgment into the mix, and it’s easy to see why many women hesitate before expressing an opinion.

She also points to what’s known as the “spotlight effect.” 

“The ‘spotlight effect’ is a phenomenon where we tend to overestimate how closely others notice or judge our behaviour, which can make decisions like choosing a bottle of wine feel much higher stakes than they really are.”

For Devin Rigaux, a wine educator and Master of Wine student, these patterns play out regularly in the classroom.

“In my experience in the classroom, men are often overconfident in their skills,” she says. Women, meanwhile, are more likely to frame their thoughts as questions rather than declarations, even when their observations are accurate.

In fact, Rigaux says, “I observe high-quality tasting notes and understanding from many women in my class, but they don’t always have the confidence to express this.”

That doesn’t mean women know less about wine. Rather, confidence and competence don’t always develop at the same pace. Rigaux has also observed how quickly confidence grows when people receive positive reinforcement. “Once I encourage them or comment on the quality of their work, I see a big increase in their confidence.”

Like any skill, learning about wine takes practice. Tasting critically, recognizing structure, and putting words to what you experience isn’t something most people are taught, even if they’ve enjoyed wine for years. Yet many assume they should already know the answers, making it easy to mistake unfamiliarity for inadequacy.

Perhaps that’s the real lesson hidden behind the wine list.

The goal isn’t to know every grape variety or confidently pronounce every French appellation. It’s to stop believing you need to.

As Rigaux puts it, “Accept that you may be wrong sometimes and stay open to learning something in any interaction.”

The wine might not be everyone’s favourite. It might even be the wrong choice.

But confidence isn’t built by always getting it right. It’s built by giving yourself permission to choose anyway.