Apology: A Lost Art
I became stronger once I stopped apologizing.
I’m sorry. Two words that I hear being said all around me, all the time. Words I found myself using so recklessly. They used to hold so much power. The ability to ease pain. Create comfort. Acknowledge destruction. Now, a feather drifting in the wind carries more weight. How did we get here? How did I? I was ultimately liberated from my descent into the black hole of apologies, and it feels stellar.
I was a young boy when I started uttering those words. I used them as a form of protection. If I just said those words, I’d be okay. I’d have a better chance of being safe. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn’t. Most times I felt that I was supposed to say it. If I admitted I was wrong, even when I wasn’t, all would be calm.
I was only a child. Blindly unaware of what I was doing by apologizing all the time. I truly thought I was doing myself a favor. I suppose in those moments growing up, I was doing myself an immediate favor. Certainly not a lasting one. I was sowing the seeds, however, for a life lesson I would learn down the road. A lesson that could do us all a favor. A favor of freedom.
As I traveled the road of adulthood, relationships came and went. Both intimate and friendly. Saying that I was sorry by that point had become a habit. Like picking at my finger nails, I was picking at my self-worth. The transition from apologizing to people in my life to strangers on the street was smooth and seamless. I can’t even pinpoint when I crossed that road.
If someone bumps into me, I apologize. If I want to ask a store employee about a product purchase, I apologize for taking up their time. I was apologizing for anything and everything. For being inquisitive. For being in the way when I clearly wasn’t. For existing. I had taken up full time residence in this haunted house of apologies and could see no way out.
The thing that started me on the path of an unapologetic existence was the simple act of awareness. I took notice of my apologies. Started tallying them. The result was startling. I was in a constant state of being sorry. I was shocked at the amount of apologies I was passing out, like candy on Halloween.
This had to stop. The fact that I was taking notice at all was great news. Now that I was aware, I could do something about it. Thinking before I speak was a perfect place to begin. I know, genius right? Who would have thought that thinking before one speaks could provide so many benefits!
Awareness, especially self-awareness, is a wonderful thing. It has countless benefits across the board. In regards to unnecessary sorry’s, though, it’s life changing. It’s a horrible habit to be in, apologizing constantly. I don’t need to be or feel sorry all the time. It’s madness!
So the time had come. I had arrived. I did myself a favor and stopped saying I was sorry. I had to think about what I was saying. Was I actually, truly sorry? Do I have something to be sorry about? I had to give meaning and power back to that phrase. I had to start meaning what I said and stop just saying words.
One of the best apologies I ever gave was to myself. I meant it too. An apology is meaningless if it is tossed around as much as say, LOL is. So now I always think before I apologize. Am I really sorry? Have I done something that requires an apology? If not, I adjust my wording before words come out of my mouth. Because once words are spoken, they can’t be unspoken.
It honestly feels like I’m doing myself a great service. It was time to wake up. No more apology zombie. Can you do it? Yes. Are you worth it. Absolutely! Stop saying that you’re sorry today and grow stronger! Just try it out. I’m certain you will feel an inner strength and confidence bubble to the surface once you do. I know I did.
I have been changed for the better because of it. And isn’t that the point? To try and be better today than we were yesterday? Now that I think before apologizing, I’m finding, the words I speak are no longer filler fluff. My words mean something. It’s funny how such a small thing can make a massive impact, but it has. The result? I’m walking a little taller now, and I’m not sorry about it.
