Unconscious competence - the flip side

This week we've been learning about and discussing professional skills development (module 5) with Scott and assessment and feedback (module 3) with Mike.
In development models we've looked at the journey from Unconscious Incompetence (not knowing what you don't know), to Conscious Incompetence (aware that you need to increase skills), then Conscious Competence (applying new skills with clumsy awareness) through to Unconscious Competence (skills embedded so you use them without having to think about it).
In Berliner's model, a teacher goes from Novice (Stage 1: Novice. At this stage teachers are labelling and learning the different elements that make up classroom tasks. Performance in the classroom is rational, relatively inflexible and requires purposeful concentration. Students on school experience and into their first year of teaching are likely to be at this stage.)  to Expert (Stage 5: Expert. This stage is characterised by an intuitive grasp of situations and non-analytic, non-deliberate sense of appropriate behaviour. Teaching performance is fluid and seemingly effortless as teachers no longer choose the focus of their attention, but operate on automatic pilot and have in place standardised, automated routines to handle instructions and management. Expert teachers are likely to have difficulty in unpacking or describing their cognitions.) via Advanced Beginner, Competent and Proficient. (As an aside, this journey is expected to take up to five years - long enough to take me almost to official retirement age; is it worth it, I'm wondering?)
In assessment and feedback we've discussed the necessity for methods which promote equality and diversity in the former; and ensuring that the latter is constructive and, ideally, given in the postive/development/postive "feedback sandwich", or "medal and mission" model.
The two areas came together for me with a resounding clash in Friday's last session. We'd been doing an exercise in pairs, rewriting some viciously presented feedback on a theoretical student's assignment in a more appropriate way, and presenting our results on the visualiser. Hugh and Beth's joint rewrite had produced a piece of feedback which was still fairly negative and hadn't followed the model of finishing off with some positive, motivating remarks. Several of us remarked on this - perhaps I was the most critical, I'm not sure - but there was some general discussion.
While this continued,  I was unconsciously re-reading their three paragraphs up on the wall screen and clocking the fact that their last two paras repeated each other, that the third para was better constructed so that if they cut out the second, replaced it with the third and wrote a brief, positive final para, they would have a well-written piece of sandwich-style feedback.
It wasn't until Mike picked me up on my use of the phrase "incredibly repetitive" that I realised I'd actually pointed this out aloud and unfiltered. I mean, I was, of course, aware that I'd been speaking, but had fallen so automatically back into my normal Unconscious Competence of writing/re-writing/editing my own work or that of other writers who actively want that sort of explicit and robust exposition, that it had completely over-ridden my Conscious Competence (or Incompetence) of giving positive and polite feedback to trainee teacher peers.
It took me literally several seconds to connect with what Mike was implying in relation to my using the word "incredibly" - that it was harsh and inappropriate. Beth told me to stop being so competitive. But I wasn't intending to be either critical or competitive; I was simply and automatically doing the job I've been doing all my life (in various forms), which is to turn clumsy or badly constructed text into meaningful and flowing prose which effectively delivers the message it is intended to.
I don't like the fact that I've come across as both rude to two people I like and respect, and arrogant in a group of people where my age and life experience already gives me certain advantages. As well as that, though, it's scary that my Novice teacher status can so easily be undermined by my "Expert" writer/editor status - what if it happened in a real classroom situation, and I didn't even notice?