Tag: apologize
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Everything I’m So, So Sorry About (and Why I Think Apologies Are Hard)
“There’s the way that light shows in darkness, and it is extremely beautiful. And I think it essentializes the experience of being human, to see light in darkness.” ~Emil Ferris
I was leading a yoga training in a small village in Greece near the Aegean Sea. One of the trainees was practicing a mindfulness workshop she designed. She led us through a guided meditation based on a beautiful Hawaiian practice for reconciliation and forgiveness called Ho’oponopono. As we sat in the yoga space, she repeated over and over:
I love you.
Please forgive me.
I’m sorry.
Thank you.There was something about how she slowly said, “I’m so, so sorry” that at one point I felt my heart break open, and tears flowed from its depths.
I have a wellspring of personal and societal hurts tucked in the back of my heartspace that I am so, so sorry about.
I’m sorry that children and animals are abused for no reason except the amusement or the sickness of adults.
I’m sorry that women and children are molested and raped by men whose brains can’t process compassion, and that their need for power is so destructive that they can justify their actions.
I’m sorry that people aren’t given equal access to food, education, and healthcare because of the color of their skin or biases.
I’m sorry for the learned bias that keep us from treating everyone equally.
I’m sorry that children don’t tell adults they have been bullied and base their self-worth on their shame about how their peers treated them.
I’m sorry for daughters whose mothers try to keep them small.
I’m sorry for the boys who’ve been told that they can’t cry.
I’m sorry that saying sorry is sometimes too vulnerable.
I’m sorry for any time I have ever said or done something that was hurtful because I was trying to make myself look good.
I’m so, so sorry
The Vulnerability of Being Sorry
Saying I’m sorry is a vulnerable place. We have to admit that we were not perfect. We have to disclose that we made mistakes.
Sometimes I’ve raced around my brain desperately looking for some way to justify my actions so that I didn’t have to apologize because it felt too vulnerable. But sometimes, even in a relationship where I wanted to be vulnerable and close to someone, I have defaulted to not apologizing—sometimes out of habit.
During the pandemic, I came down with COVID-19 and had to call the people I’d been around and tell them. It was hard. One of my friends was very upset with me. It was during the holidays, and after spending a lot of time alone, she had plans for New Year’s Eve.
I didn’t blame her for being mad. The isolation was driving us all crazy. I was sorry. Apologizing and listening to her anger was uncomfortable. Her friendship was more valuable than the temporary discomfort of her processing her disappointment. I was grateful that I had the courage to be present.
If we want a relationship to grow, we—the one who erred—need to own the mistake and the apology, no matter how uncomfortable it feels. Without the apology, it’s one more brick in the barrier to growing closer in a relationship.
We all know people that never say I’m sorry—it just feels too exposed. Alternatively, more worrisome, is that they feel beyond reproach.
Cindy Frantz, a professor of psychology and environmental studies at Oberlin College and Conservatory, said that when we do something wrong and skirt responsibility by not admitting our wrongdoing, the interaction feels incomplete.
I know from experience that waiting for an apology can cause a relationship to feel like it is hanging in midair, waiting to get grounded.
She also warned, “Don’t apologize as a way to shut down the conversation and wipe the slate clean. That’s a shortcut that won’t work.”
When It Isn’t Safe to Say I’m Sorry
Some people will use our apology against us—so we keep ourselves safe by not apologizing. Self-preservation might be the best choice when dealing with someone with mental health and abusive issues. It can take a toll on how we feel about ourselves though.
In the eighties, I was in a twelve-step program for my eating disorder. I wasn’t able to fully complete the fifth step by making amends to my parents for all the extra food I ate to fuel my bulimia. It just didn’t feel safe. Now that I’m in my sixties I could do it, but my parents are deceased.
I found some comfort in apologizing “in spirit.” I’m still in the process of fully letting go of the conversation that I wish I could have had.
Over-Apologizing
I was in a coffee house, writing this article, when I overheard a conversation. A man asked a woman if he could reach across her to get a chess board from a shelf that was next to her. She said yes and then said, “I’m sorry.” His friend said to her, “Why are you apologizing? He’s the one inconveniencing you.”
Like this woman, I can be very free with my apologies.
Saying things like “I’m sorry to bother you” instead of “Do you have a minute to talk?” can be a sign of our sense of self-worth or the habits we developed when we weren’t confident.
Findings show that women report offering more apologies than men, even though there is no evidence that women create more offenses than men.
For women, over-apologizing can be just a matter of learned language. But when we hear ourselves apologize for taking up space when someone else bumps into us, or apologize for being late rather than thanking people for waiting for us, or apologize just for saying no when someone crosses our boundaries, this can be a sign of self-worth challenges.
If we listen to ourselves apologize repeatedly, we literally talk ourselves into low self-worth.
What a Sincere Apology Feels Like
I can offer a sincere apology when I know the mistakes I make are just a part of being human. I truly don’t want to hurt others. I don’t want them to be suffering from my words or actions.
I can offer a sincere apology when I forgive myself for not being perfect. I seek to learn from my mistakes and apply insights to my future responses and actions. I refrain from using my mistakes to bring up all my past mistakes and emotionally beat myself up.
Psychotherapist Sara Kubric says that a genuine apology is more than a statement. It has to be sincere, vulnerable, and intentional. She offers an apology recipe that could look something like:
- Taking responsibility for making a mistake
- Acknowledging that we have hurt someone
- Validating their feelings
- Expressing remorse
- Being explicit about our desire to make amends
Apology as a Test of Confidence
When I sincerely apologize, I know that I am confident. No one is beyond making mistakes. I know that my spiritual growth depends on my ability to be vulnerable.
I continue to learn new ways of communicating that don’t involve over-apologizing for taking up space or being a normal human being. I know that there are pain, challenges, and injustices in the world that I can’t control, and I can be sorry, sad, and discouraged when they happen. This is the way I can live consciously and compassionately in this, my community.
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When People Are Mean and Refuse to Admit It or Apologize
“Life becomes easier when you learn to accept an apology you never got.” ~Robert Brault
I’ve always tried to distance myself from people who are rude, overly aggressive, and mean. But sometimes we become tied to people who might not have our best interests at heart.
One summer I became involved with a coworker who was at a bad spot in his life. I thought I could help him through this tough time, but just like a swimmer drowning in a pool, he grabbed on and ended up drowning me when I reached out and tried to save him.
After several months of verbal and psychological abuse, I finally realized that the situation was out of my control. That night, after I got up to get a glass of water, he followed me into the kitchen and started yelling at me to get back into his room.
I did as I was told but I was not happy about it. He noticed my shift in mood and asked what was wrong. But when I told him it was because of how he’d treated me, he was surprised—a surprise which soon turned into a second wave of intense anger.
He could not understand that his actions had directly impacted me, and it seemed ridiculous to him that I would feel anything at all. When I started to cry, he was confused and started pawing at me to try to roll me on my back. It felt like I was being attacked by a bear who wasn’t quite sure if I was edible or not.
When I finally ended things, I told him I was not okay. That his behavior toward me was unacceptable. That I was very hurt by the hateful way he had treated me. That I could not and did not want be involved with him because he did not respect me as a person.
But this didn’t make sense to him. He told me that he didn’t have anything against me and that I should choose to feel differently. That I couldn’t possibly feel hurt because he didn’t feel hurt. He felt pretty good about things, and I should have felt that way too.
He couldn’t recognize that his actions were causing me pain, even when I directly laid it out in front of him.
I even used examples from his life of things that had hurt him and then tried to make the comparison that the same things that hurt him also hurt me.
I told him that I needed a lot of time, a lot of space, and a lot of compassion if we wanted to set things right and be on friendly terms at work. That he had to be nice to me and recognize that it would take a long time for me to feel okay. He agreed, and I thought we understood each other.
The next time I saw him was a few weeks later at a work party. He sat next to me on the couch, pulled out his laptop, and started to show me the weather forecast for the next ten days. I politely evaded and tried to end the conversation as soon as possible. I was not ready, and I did not want our first conversation as ‘friends’ to be a lecture on meteorology.
Shortly after that he started sending me hateful messages on Facebook, threatening that if I couldn’t get over it, I might as well find somewhere else to work. I tried to explain to him I was not ready, and that sending me hate mails was not getting me any closer to being ready. But he just responded with more hate.
After several weeks of silence and a trip out of the state for me, we restarted the conversation and we were actually able to address some of the issues. I reiterated again what I needed: compassion, patience, understanding, and kindness (and a face-to-face apology would be great too).
He agreed, and I finally had faith that things would get better. But these things never happened.
He never apologized, and shortly after our series of talks he returned to the mindset that I deserved to be treated that way, and that I was the one at fault.
The disrespectful behavior returned and, exhausted, I decided it would be easiest to just avoid him. After a few months of tactful evasion, I found somewhere else to work.
I could spend a lifetime showing him the evidence, bringing up witnesses who had seen what was going on, and explaining to him why it is not okay to treat people that way. I could bring in a professional psychologist, our manager, our coworkers, and our friends to verify that I was 100% entitled to an apology and deserved respect at work.
But would I ever convince him? Probably not.
People only change if they want to change. You cannot force someone to respect you. You cannot force someone to admit they were wrong or apologize. Only they have the power to shift their perspective. And sometimes, it’s just not going to happen.
I finally realized that sometimes, people are just mean. And there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.
I made the mistake of thinking that I could change him with compassion, patience, and understanding. But he did not want to change, so instead, I ended up breaking myself against his rock-hard resolve.
When someone is proactively threatening you and your happiness, seriously ask yourself: Is the juice worth the squeeze? Does this person respect me? Do they genuinely feel compassion for me? Do they want me to be happy? Or are they a drowning swimmer pushing me under just so they can breathe a little easier?
I don’t like to quit a project that I’ve started. But I learned that if this ‘project’ is an unhealthy or toxic relationship that is causing me damage, sometimes the best choice is to just walk away.
If you think you might be in a toxic or unhealthy relationship, seriously ask yourself: Is this good for me? Is this making me happy? Is this making me feel validated as a person? If the answer is no, end it. The best choice for you is the best choice of all.
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Feeling Weighed Down by Regret? What Helps Me Let Go
“Be kind to past versions of yourself that didn’t know the things you know now.” ~Unknown
When I taught yoga classes in jails in Colorado and New Jersey, I would end class with the Metta Meditation:
May we all feel forgiveness.
May we all feel happiness.
May we all feel loved.
May all our sufferings be healed.
May we feel at peace.
The women, all clothed in light gray sweatpants, would be in a relaxed yoga posture, usually lying on their yoga mat with their legs up the wall. The fluorescent lights would be full blast, as they always are in a jail or prison. Some women would feel comfortable closing their eyes. Some wouldn’t.
With quiet meditative music playing, I led the meditation with the gentlest voice that I could, taking into consideration that the noise outside the room would be loud. Often, we could hear the incessant dribbling of basketballs in the men’s gym. Someone in the complex might be yelling, and we all would have to work past it.
As I spoke that first line, “May I feel forgiveness,” their tears would start, steady streams rolling down their faces. When we would talk afterward, they said that the most challenging part of the practice was forgiving themselves.
If these inmates had been allowed to dress as they wanted, they would have seemed like any other group of yoga students.
I couldn’t tell who had murdered someone—because their life felt so desperate; or who had too many DWIs—because their addictions (the ones that they used to cover up abuse and trauma) were out of control; or who got a restraining order against an abuser, and then violated it herself—because she was sure he would be loving this time.
Now that they were incarcerated, their parents and children were also suffering the consequences.
Choices That Become Regrets
We can all understand that our personal choices have sometimes created challenges for others. Some of us were just lucky that we weren’t incarcerated for our decisions.
We have all made decisions that we wish we could reverse. We have said things that we want to take back. We neglected something important, sacred, and cherished, and there were consequences. We might have been too naive or too absorbed in principle or perfection, and there were emotional casualties.
These regrets lurk in the backs of our minds. They are like dark shadows stalking our heart space, with ropes binding our self-acceptance, keeping us from flying high. We might still be feeling the repercussions of choices made twenty, thirty, forty years ago. And even today, the shame and guilt impact our decision-making.
The mistakes I made that affected my children are the most challenging to process. The abuse in my second marriage was harmful to my children, my community, and me. The fallout took years to unwind.
When life seemed back to normal, I had time to see my part in the trauma—mainly the red flags that I ignored when I was dating him. Ignoring what went on in his first marriage and the comments that he said, that made me feel uncomfortable, but I didn’t respond to, are my hindsight, my ball and chain, dragging on my self-worth. Time was healing, but I could also be triggered by even little mistakes. Even if I said something wrong in a conversation, like we all do, I could be pulled down the slippery slope to a pile of unresolved remorse.
I have come to enough resolve not to think about those stories most of the time. I’m not sure that I will ever find total peace with some of them. I know that they still have the power to sabotage my peace of mind.
I know that it is worth the effort to come to some resolution of our regrets, even if we have to keep chipping away at them over time.
Processing Regrets Consciously
One way that I have processed regret is to write out the story. Dump it all out of my head—including the hard stuff. If possible, I write out what I would do or say differently the next time. I find that there is healing in knowing that I have learned from my past mistakes.
Writing the story out can also give me a clear picture of what amends I need to make.
Is there someone to say I’m sorry to? Do I need to muster the courage to have a heartfelt dialogue with the other player in the story? Or if I have already said I’m sorry, do I need to forgive myself? Do I need to consciously let the story go now? Do I need to remind myself that it doesn’t do me any good to dwell on the story?
I also take my regrets to my meditation practice.
One of my most potent times of processing regret happened when I was sitting on the garden roof of our stone home, early one morning in the spring. I was feeling heavy. The weight of the abuse in my second marriage, and the resulting divorce, was pulling me down once again.
Listening to the birds singing to each other, I felt a sudden inspiration to recite the Metta Meditation—the one that had brought tears to the inmates’ eyes in those faraway jails.
“May we all feel forgiveness,” I began. This time, the wonderment of my surroundings combined with the ancient familiar words to give me a feeling of release and freedom I hadn’t felt before. The sound of birdsong let me know that I could let go of another piece of my remorse over what I could have done differently. My tears welled up. My heart relaxed.
Accepting that I might not see complete harmony with my regrets is, itself, part of letting them go. I have heard this from other clients.
A common challenge for women in the second half of life is not feeling close to their children. Marcia, the mother of five adult children, regrets how hard she was on her oldest daughter. Her attempts to repair the relationship haven’t had the results she wanted. Accepting that this estrangement might or might not be temporary is challenging. She has assured her daughter that she wishes to be closer, and that is the peace that she can find each day.
We also might need to find a resolution with someone who has already passed. I came to peace with my mother, twelve years after she died, using the Metta Meditation. That completely surprised me and freed up my heart more than I ever thought possible.
Becoming Whole
Every regret, memory of shame, and overwhelming guilt are part of who we are. When we are driven by them, we might make choices that aren’t in our best interest. We might believe that we don’t merit good things or that we deserve to be relentlessly punished. If we fuel our regrets by reiterating them, we reinforce our shame and increase the emotional charge. Our spirit will continue to be fragmented, tethered to the past, and we will feel incomplete.
If we can process our regrets with tenderness and compassion, we can use these hard memories as a part of our wisdom bank.
Wholehearted living is accepting ourselves with all the mistakes that we have made. Wholehearted living is compassion for all the times in our life when we made mistakes. It is understanding that we are not alone—every single adult has regrets. When we live wholeheartedly, we can have healthier relationships and make wiser decisions in all our endeavors.
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The 6 Personalities of People-Pleasing and How I Overcame Them
“The truth is, you’re never going to be able to please everybody, so stop trying. Remember, the sun is going to continue shining even if some people get annoyed by its light shining in their eyes. You have full permission to shine on.” ~Unknown
I used to be a rebel. I was the girl at the party who would waltz into a room and have everyone in awe, their attention and curiosity caught by my presence. I felt it, they felt it, it was magnetic. I loved it—I had become the girl I wanted to be.
That was until one night at a party, while I was making a batch of popcorn in the kitchen, someone came up to me and asked, “Why do you need to prove yourself all the time?”
This question caught me so off guard. I was instantly confused. I was staring into space trying to figure out how I was proving myself all the time. So, I asked exactly how I was doing this.
It turned out that when someone shared a story about themselves, I would share one of my own, and it came across as bigger and better. This person went on to tell me, “Actually, no one likes it, and it’s totally not necessary to win over your friends.”
Holy moly. My blood started pumping faster through my veins, my face was burning up, my gut was wrenching at the thought of these people who I called friends not liking me. I thought I had finally found my community of like-minded souls.
In this exact moment, I made the biggest decision of my life.
It was time to squash down who I was, again. You see, I was in my mid-twenties, and I finally felt free from my childhood patterns. I was confident. I had friends. I could finally be me—who I was without the filter.
They needed a toned-down version of me.
So, I began to hide.
I would sit in the corner or behind someone else. I wouldn’t share stories of my life adventures. I stopped dressing to impress. I apologized for silly things, and I watched every move I made around these people. It was exhausting, but the fear of them not liking me was crippling.
Over the years I perfected these new behaviors of how to not be “too much” for the people around me. I went from being a wild, carefree soul to someone who was filled with anxiety in every social scenario.
These new patterns overflowed into my work, family, relationships, and friendships. I became oversensitive, reactive, and uncomfortable to be around.
After a decade of self-punishment, I was on a call with someone who I was working with, and they called me out for apologizing for not getting something right, even though it was the first time I had tried what they were teaching.
Then the words that flew out of my mouth were: I did it again.
Seriously, here I was, thinking I had it all figured out. I had adapted my behaviors, beliefs, patterns, and values to get through life, all in order to please other people. This was the slap on the face that I needed.
So, I went on a deep soul journey that involved journaling daily. I took a real good look at myself and what I had created in my life. I began evaluating friendships, my work, the people in my day-to-day life, my family, and my environment.
I had created a reality where I was no longer happy.
My life revolved around everyone else’s needs, and I placed them before my own. I had become so aware of people’s energy, reactions, body language, and tone that I felt like I was suffocating.
And for what?
To not have friends, to not have people like me, to sacrifice my life for others.
From that moment forward, I chose me.
In order to do that, I needed to recognize how I’d formerly denied myself and my feelings so I could become aware of when I was tempted to fall into old patterns.
Let me share with you the six personality types I lived through for a decade, how they play out in our daily lives, and how I overcame them.
The Six People-Pleasing Personality Types
The Approval Seeker
When I was living in approval-seeking mode, my actions were geared toward praise. I would do anything to be the best employee in my jobs, from working overtime to taking on extra responsibility. I would play by the rules when it came to my family. I would make an effort to be noticed by my friends, all while chasing that sense of belonging.
Praise was the fuel that kept me going. It reinforced the things I was doing right.
The remedy to being an approval seeker is self trust, owning my values and my beliefs instead of looking for external validation. I simply started by questioning my motives in my actions.
If I suspected I was doing something solely or primarily to receive approval, I asked myself, “Would I make this choice if I were being true and fair to myself?”
The Busy Bee
As a busy mumma of two, wife, business owner, sister, daughter, and friend, there was a time when I thought I had to keep it all together for everyone around me. I was the person who organized all the parties, Christmas dinners, birthday celebrations, family get-togethers, kids’ school activities, groceries, holidays, and anything else you can think of.
The people around me saw me as dependable and organized, and they knew that I would do any task to help out. Of course without any fuss because I was being of service to the ones I loved.
After I spotted a yoga class I really wanted to attend and realized I needed to make time in my schedule, I started to review my weekly routine. I realized I didn’t have to be everything for everyone at all times, which was hard to accept since “acts of service” is one of my love languages. But I knew being less busy was an act of kindness and love for myself.
The Conflict Avoider
When people raise their voice or assert their authority to me, I tend to crumble. It looks like I am still standing there, but in my mind, I’m in the fetal position on the floor.
Speaking up for what I believe in is sometimes easy when I am fueled by passion for topics I love, but there are a few people in my life who turn me back into the conflict avoider in a second.
In tense situations with these people, I often observe what is about to play out and create an exit strategy. I ask myself, “What do I need to do? Who do I need to be? What do I need to say to get me out of here?”
When I recognize I’m doing this, I now take a few breaths to ground myself before leaning into the discomfort I’m feeling. I consider how I can stay true to my values and respond in a way that opens the space for discussion.
The Self-Sacrificer
This is the most common form of people-pleasing because it’s driven by love. It happens with our nearest and dearest.
I once had a boyfriend who was into punk music, and slowly, over time, while dating him, I turned into a punk chic. I listened to his music, I wore all black, I tore up my clothes, and I went from blonde to black hair. I would have done anything for his love.
Self-sacrificing is when we put others’ needs ahead of our own, fitting in with their agendas and adapting to them, yet in this process we lose small pieces of ourselves.
It’s a personal crime when this happens because it takes years to rediscover all the things we once loved.
Experimenting is the cure to finding that feeling of pure happiness we once held. I took belly dancing and various yoga classes, went for walks in different places, and challenged myself to try new and old things to see if they lit me up. I also reminded myself that I don’t need to sacrifice my interests and needs for anyone else because, if they truly love me, they’ll want me to honor those things.
The Apologizer
Sorry! Oops, sorry. Oh yes, I would apologize for everything from accidentally bumping into someone at the grocery store to taking a long time getting drinks at a bar.
I eventually realized I apologized all the time because I believed I was at fault in each situation—not just super observant and sensitive to other people, as I’d formerly believed. I blamed myself for all kinds of things, from meeting my needs to taking up space.
One day I decided to walk the busy city streets with my head held high, no more side-stepping to get out of other people’s way or apologizing for almost bumping into them. I bit my tongue and simply reminded myself that it is okay to have my own agenda, I am not to blame for things that are out of my control, and I have a voice.
The Sensitive Soul
Often, I would guard myself against the world, even though I wanted to trust it, because I had a hard time creating emotional boundaries. The word “should” always hung over my head—I should always be available, I should be able to listen whenever someone needs me. But this took a huge toll.
Everyone would come to me to share their story, offload their junk, and then move on, leaving me with a negative energy load. I would push down my feelings and pretend everything was okay. Also, I felt like I couldn’t share my story with others because they were in a bad mood, feeling sad, or the timing wasn’t right. I was a doormat.
I needed to address my conditioning in order to stop taking on other people’s problems. Why did my feelings come second to others’? Why were their stories more important than mine? I discovered that I had been putting others on a pedestal and that I needed to dig deep into the “shoulds” and start tackling them one at a time until I was able to speak up and set limits.
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I started people-pleasing because someone told me I was always trying to prove myself, but ironically, that’s what people-pleasing is—trying to prove you’re a good person by doing all the right things so no one will be upset or disappointed. Ultimately, though, we end up disappointing ourselves.
Since I’ve started challenging these personalities, I’ve slowly offset my need to please. It hasn’t been easy, but I’m now a lot closer to the person I used to be—someone who likes who she is and has nothing to prove to anyone.
Do any of these personalities sound familiar to you? And how are you going to tackle it?
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Beyond Sorry: A Better Way to Handle Conflict in Your Relationship
“Sorry isn’t always enough. Sometimes you actually have to change.” ~Unknown
When I was young I was like every other kid, always in and out of trouble. I pushed the boundaries of what was acceptable in order to see what I could get away with. When I pushed, I’d often keep on pushing until someone said “stop.”
During my childhood I heard lots of:
“STOP!!”
Quickly followed by:
“Say you’re sorry.”
Say those two magical words, “I’m sorry,” and all the pain will go away. Then I’ll be back in the good books and can go play with my friends again.
During this time I received another strong message that many children hear. It’s the one that says some of your feelings are not a good thing. That’s because I was told:
Don’t look sad.
Don’t cry.
Don’t be scared.
This led to me feel guilt and even shame about the expression of certain feelings. As a result, over time I was less able to acknowledge feelings in myself and others. These two elements, when combined years later, went on to cause real problems for me. This is because I was now in front of an angry partner and I went back to what I learned as a child.
I repressed my feelings, tried to look sad, and said “I’m sorry.”
This time, however, I wasn’t speaking to my parents. It was my partner who was very sensitive to the fact that the words alone weren’t enough.
My apology now created more harm than good, and I didn’t have a clue what to do about it. My relationships suffered for years, as we would both regress back to childhood archetypal patterns of behavior. This is where we’d indulge in hierarchical relationships, playing out childhood habits with the husband/wife dynamic expressed as mother/son or father/daughter. This killed the trust and intimacy in our relationship, and was a fast track to either breakup, or long-term dissatisfaction and resentment.
In one particularly fractious relationship I remember always saying sorry because I thought it was what my partner wanted me to say. I knew that she thought she was right, and therefore I must be wrong. We didn’t have the skills to navigate ourselves to a mutually agreeable resolution, so the shortcut to a life of harmony was for me to accept that I was wrong.
Based on what I learned as a child, saying sorry was the natural response. It seemed to be by far the easiest way to resolve our differences, but it didn’t work. The hierarchy this created ultimately ended that relationship, as I failed to communicate with my partner on the equal footing we both needed for it to work.
How I’d learned to behave all those years ago clearly wasn’t working, and I desperately needed an alternative to manage the difficult conversations I was now having in my relationships.
As I moved from relationship to relationship I managed to work through this and developed new skills that helped me grow and heal the wounds from my past. These new skills required me to access the very emotions I was encouraged to repress when I was young and helped me create the connection, trust, and safety my relationship craved.
Assuming you’re in a non-abusive, healthy relationship, there is an alternative, and is something I now practice almost every day. Here are four steps you can follow the next time you find yourself about to utter the dreaded words “I’m sorry”:
Step 1: Slow down, acknowledge what’s happened, and take responsibility for your part in it.
In any relationship there is 200% responsibility to be split 50/50 between both people. Problems happen when the split isn’t equal and people either take too little responsibility (i.e.: the victim) or too much (i.e.: the co-dependent).
Developing an honest, open, trusting relationship starts with ensuring you take 100% responsibility for what is yours to take, and no more. By doing this you can create a clear line between what is yours and what is not. This then empowers your partner to do the same.
A while back I noticed how my relationship had become strained, and I felt as if I was either saying “I’m sorry” to my partner, or she was expecting me to. I had been trying to resolve the problems we were having by looking outside of myself and blaming my partner; so I decided to turn things 180 degrees. I looked at myself, got honest, took responsibility, and I told my partner.
I told her that I had noticed things were strained and I was committed to doing something about it. I explained that I had been projecting lots of beliefs on to her about her not being good enough. These were beliefs I held about myself, and it wasn’t fair to project these on to her. I apologized for doing that and said I was taking my judgments back and owning them.
Taking responsibility in our lives is key to developing positive relationships of trust and intimacy where there was previously victimhood and blame. Even when you think others haven’t noticed your victimhood, they have. People notice when you are projecting onto them, and they can feel the difference when you stand powerfully in your truth and take full responsibility for your actions.
Step 2: Describe your feelings regarding what happened. Speak honestly and share what comes up for you.
Feelings can be used as weapons in relationships in order to apportion blame, such as claims like:
“You made me feel like this.”
But when we connect to our own feelings, take responsibility for what we feel, and honestly communicate them to others, we provide a platform for connection. From this place of vulnerability we stop being like teflon, with everything sliding off us, and instead become sticky and able to create bonds and connection with our partners.
When I took responsibility for the problems in my relationship I shared how I felt. I explained how I was embarrassed about how I’d behaved. I shared how I was scared what she might think of me for being so honest, and I was sad that I hadn’t managed to open up about it sooner.
Think of the times in your life when you really bonded with your friends or partner. This happens during times of high emotion, both the good and bad. It’s easy to bond and create connection during periods of high emotion and good mood. It takes a lot more to use more difficult emotions to create deep connection. However, it’s these emotions and the vulnerability that we bring to them, where the deepest connections are made.
Step 3: Empathize by sharing what feelings and emotions they must have felt in response to what happened.
When we say “I’m sorry” it encourages us to access the situation from our perspective and via our feelings and emotions. In order for our words to be heard we need to demonstrate that we truly understand our partner’s world and not just our own. For that, we need empathy.
Empathy is a difficult skill because it requires us to recognize the uncomfortable feelings our partner is feeling. It also requires us to access those feelings within ourselves, and then reflect them back to our partner. Lack of empathy is a symptom of us not wanting, or able, to be vulnerable to others’ difficulties because of the way their feelings will make us feel. That’s why it’s important for us to get more familiar with the full range of our emotions, and not just the “good” ones.
Here are two quick tips to help you to develop more empathy. Firstly, start with the sentence string “I imagine…” This is because it encourages you to enter your partner’s world for a moment. It encourages you to get out of your point of view and see things with fresh eyes. For example: “I imagine you must be feeling really angry and sad about what happened.”
Secondly, notice your tendency to blame and judge. Judgment is the antithesis of empathy and should be avoided at all costs.
Step 4: Validate your partner by telling them that what they have shared makes logical sense to you, and why.
For reasons I am yet to fathom, we are guilt- and shame-creating machines. We love to make ourselves feel bad about what we do and create doubt about what we feel. That’s why being validated for what we feel is so important.
The reality is we don’t have any choice about what we feel. Something happens and our body, mind, and soul respond in a certain way that’s beyond our control. We can’t select the positive emotions we want to feel in response to what’s happened and avoid the ones we dislike.
Deep down we judge ourselves for whether our response is right/wrong or good/bad. So being told that our response makes complete sense helps us feel accepted and seen. To be told why it makes sense is like the cherry on top of the cake. It helps us feel as if someone really understands us and sees us for who we really are and how we really feel.
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The intention behind saying “I’m sorry” is focused on yourself. Its primary intention is to get a quick resolution to the problem, and move on. However, the intention behind this alternative approach above is focused on your partner. This time the primary intention is to demonstrate that you understand them and to own your part in what happened.
Apologizing and clearing resentments are two of the most important skills you can learn in a relationship. No one taught us how to do this, so instead we can regress to childhood habits in order to navigate these delicate areas. As I look back to when I started applying these changes in my relationship I’m amazed what a powerful impact it had on me and my partner.
Coming from this new place felt freeing and very powerful. Instead of apologizing and feeling lesser or smaller, I stood taller like some weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
The impact it had on my partner was huge. She now felt seen, understood, prioritized, and safe. She trusted me again in a much deeper way than before. That’s because when we take responsibility and apologize in this deeper way it frees us of our burdens and makes us feel more authentic and real, as a result. This can help us to use conflict in our relationship to actually improve and deepen connection and that’s a skill we could all do with.
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20 Things You Don’t Have to Apologize For
If you’re anything like me, you apologize far too often, and most of the time, when you haven’t done anything wrong.
Sometimes we apologize for things beyond our control—like bad weather during a party we’re hosting.
Sometimes we apologize when someone else was actually in the wrong—when a waiter brings us food not cooked to our specifications, for example.
And sometimes we apologize for life choices we have every right to make—like the decision to change jobs, or end a relationship.
We’re wired to seek a sense of belonging, and we fear being ostracized from our tribe, so many of us lean toward excessive contrition to ensure we’re still in people’s good graces.
We may also apologize because we’re highly sensitive to other people’s feelings, and we want to ensure we haven’t unintentionally caused them pain.
Particularly if you were abused at some point, it can feel imperative to express remorse for potential slights and offenses, since this could minimize the risk of retaliation. But by doing this, we’re undermining ourselves and reinforcing a sense of guilt and subservience.
It’s admirable to apologize when we’ve genuinely done something wrong, or even if we believe we inadvertently hurt someone else. But there are certain choices we need to own, and need never apologize for.
Since this topic has been on my mind lately, I decided to ask Tiny Buddha Facebook followers this question a couple weeks back:
What’s one thing we should never apologize for?
More than 2,000 people responded, many with variations of the same ideas. Below is a short list of the ones I found most compelling.
You Never Have to Apologize For…
1. Removing someone from your life that repeatedly crosses your boundaries. ~Bonnie Romano
2. Being who we are, and feeling our feelings. ~Courtney Redd-Boynton
3. Trusting your instincts, even if you can’t explain it. ~Kate Willette
4. We should never apologize if we’re not truly sorry. I don’t believe in apologizing because someone ‘demands’ an apology. ~Olga Baez Rivera
5. Quality “me” time (taking care of ourselves). ~Nath Ray
6. Your opinion—there is no right or wrong opinion, and there’d be a lot less arguments if more people could just respect and appreciate different insights. ~Jennifer Werner Mader
7. Standing up for what you believe in. ~Michelle Galyon-Stallings
8. Living life the way we choose to, regardless of fitting in with other people’s norms. ~Tanya Johns Emery
9. Making decisions about your own future that don’t do any harm to anyone. No one should be made to feel guilty for trying to better themselves. ~Rebecca Killeen
10. You shouldn’t have to apologize for how you feel. You may need to apologize for how you act on your feelings, but never for being hurt, angry, sad, etc., and expressing how you feel. There’s a difference. ~NathanArisa Ferree
11. Being sensitive. I feel my feelings and I believe it’s hurtful when individuals are quick to tell someone to “get over it.” If we aren’t harming anyone, we all deserve to process our feelings in our own time frame and manner. ~Lori Mitchell
12. For being protective of our children and trusting our instincts as parents—especially when they’re not yet capable of advocating for themselves. ~Amitola Rajah
13. Having to grieve. Some people think there is a time limit or a timeframe. It could take a lifetime to accept someone we love passing away. ~Lisa Marie
14. Speaking the truth. It ain’t always pleasant, but better to know what’s really in someone’s heart than be fake! ~Kiran Sohi
15. Speaking up when someone has hurt us in some way. ~Karin Alberga
16. Fighting for the rights of animals. ~Linda Leppington
17. Taking a break and doing absolutely nothing for ten minutes. ~Christina Teresa
18. Being a free thinker and questioning everything even when it’s not the popular thing to do. ~Kathy Gildersleeve Wesley
19. Choosing what you think is best for your life. ~Kay West
20. Apologizing too much. ~Lori Deschene
Yes, I just quoted myself there. And what I wrote might seem a little ironic, considering the topic of this post. But I’ve realized that despite knowing I don’t need to apologize as often as I do, I may still fall into this habit at times. And I’ve decided that’s perfectly okay.
It’s okay that I sometimes experience anxiety about potential rejection. It’s okay that I’m insecure at times, and apologize to compensate. And it’s understandable, given my background, that I occasionally blame myself for things that aren’t my fault.
The whole point of learning to apologize less is to build confidence in ourselves and our choices, and that means embracing our humanity.
It’s human to struggle, and unless we’re hurting other people, there’s no need to apologize for it.
What’s one thing you’ve realized you don’t need to apologize for? Have you ever apologized for something on this list?
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Why I Stopped Apologizing for Being Me
“Never apologize for showing your feelings. Never regret being who you truly are.” ~Unknown
Ever felt like a square peg in a round hole? A fish out of water? A knife in a fork drawer?
That was me growing up.
On an emotional scale of one to ten (where one is cold and ten is super-sensitive), I hovered between seven and nine on any given day. The rest of my family resided around four.
As a result, I spent a large part of my youth feeling disconnected. An outsider. Alone.
As the youngest sibling, I was always the last in line, which meant getting the dregs of the pudding. The hand-me-down clothing. Cold bathwater.
But that’s how it rolls in families. Age carries authority. I accepted this as just how it was.
I grew up and started finding my voice, embracing my emotions, and having opinions.
It wasn’t really a shock when no one listened or took notice. They wrote me off as oversensitive and dramatic, which I’d come to believe was true. And that’s when I started apologizing—for my opinions, for my moods, for just being me.
After all, I was young and desperately wanted to fit in and be accepted.
I was the anomaly. Surely that meant that I had to change? To be like them? Then I’d be normal. Then they’d all accept me, wouldn’t they?
Thus began a long period of inner conflict. When I felt emotions bubbling up, I would inwardly chastise myself and try to suppress them, much like shaking a bottle of champagne and trying to hold the cork in. Yup, it’s almost impossible. And potentially messy.
I really believed that I needed to be someone other than my authentic self in order to be loved.
It didn’t end there. The same hodge-podge of confused inner perceptions bubbled over into my romantic relationships too.
I believe that we attract people who mirror our inner beliefs about ourselves. This meant that over the years, my “significant others” were just as confused about their own identities.
I desperately reached to each of them for acceptance, for a sense of worthiness, for security.
But how could someone as conflicted and disconnected as I was offer anything other than more conflict and amplified feelings of unworthiness?
It was a vicious cycle—endless, futile, and disastrous.
The turning point wasn’t instantaneous. There was no “A-ha” moment. It was a gradual awakening. A yearning to understand. The rising dawn after the dark.
Over time I read many books, attended a multitude of courses and lectures, and meditated, always thirsting for more.
And slowly I re-connected with me. The real me.
I learned about self-compassion and self-love. And I patiently peeled away each layer of defensive protection until I finally embraced the fullness of being unapologetically me.
These are a few of the principles I’ve embraced.
I am unique.
There is only one version of me, and it’s special and amazing. Nobody else in the entire world is like me.
I have scars on my knees from tripping on trail runs.
I have an insatiable love of dark humor.
I prefer white wine over red.
And I’m never late.
Each preference and choice, like or dislike, is mine and mine alone. And that’s perfect!
I’m comfortable with other people’s discomfort.
I totally accept that I am not responsible for anyone else’s beliefs or perspectives. Those are entirely their own choice. If anyone dislikes or disapproves of me or anything I say or do, it’s their judgment, from their perspective. Not mine.
If they feel bad, I don’t have to fix it.
And I’m okay with it if they do.
I chose to spend last Christmas away, something that didn’t please my father. In his world, the festive season is for family. No Exceptions. Until now I’ve humored him and played along to keep the peace—to please—and resented every minute.
But last year I didn’t. I put my own needs first.
He tried self-pity and anger, but I stood my ground, respectfully.
I let him behave as he chose to, without it affecting me or my choices.
His reaction was his choice, and it led to unhappiness and distress.
His discomfort was his own. Completely.
He subsequently spent the holidays with friends, and had a really good time too.
So we both got to enjoy new experiences and grow a little. I’d say the discomfort was worth it.
My opinions are valid, and so are yours.
We’re all different, with different ideas and thoughts, and the way we see things is unique to each and every person.
It’s good that we differ. That’s how we expand our awareness.
And we don’t have to all agree. Ever.
We can share our thoughts and opinions, and we can listen to each other with curiosity. Just because it’s interesting, not because anyone has to be right.
That means that every opinion is valid and worthy of being heard, including mine.
I recently met a friend of a friend. She’s a first grade teacher and incredibly passionate about her work.
Somehow the conversation shifted to religion. Always a dangerous path, especially when it became apparent that we represented two opposite ends of this particular spectrum. I believe in a “higher being” and she doesn’t.
She asked me intently about every aspect of my beliefs, yet at no point did she try to counter or persuade me otherwise, nor I her.
There was just mutual curiosity and respect for the other’s right to choose. We agreed to disagree.
No egos. No need to be right.
It was a truly unique conversation. She definitely left an impression.
I love my emotions.
My emotions are my inner guidance system at work, which means I embrace each and every one of them. Especially the uncomfortable feelings.
They tell me I’m on the wrong path. They indicate (loudly) when it’s time to see things differently, when it’s time to find the good in whatever I’m focused on.
As a young adult, I was a “pleaser.” It felt good when I made others happy, even if was at my own expense.
I would tolerate other people’s bad behavior, to keep the peace.
Around that time I was dating a guy. A really awesome guy, or so I thought.
He had a recreational drug habit, which I ignored. And it made him really moody, which I stoically tolerated.
It also meant he could be verbally abusive, and he would often not arrive for dates, unapologetically.
If I confronted him he’d ignore me for days, sometimes weeks. Classic passive-aggressive, but I knew no better.
Over time, I began to feel bad and resentful.
Wasn’t I being the perfect partner? Didn’t I deserve better?
But the unhappy feelings continued, unabated.
Something had to change.
We “pleasers” generally lack boundaries, of any type. In this case I needed some, desperately.
So I got clear on what I deemed as acceptable behavior and then I set some rules for myself, which I then implemented ruthlessly, without negotiation.
Not surprisingly, the relationship ended. But here’s the thing: I felt good and powerful!
My uncomfortable feelings had guided me to better ones.
It’s the perfect system (when we allow it to be).
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It’s not complicated.
We are who we are.
And we owe it to ourselves to love and embrace who we really are.
Every little last quirk.
No apologies.
Ever.
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Why We Don’t Need to Apologize So Often & How to Do It Well When We Do
“The ability to apologize sincerely and express regret for the unskillful things we say or do is an art. A true apology can relieve a great deal of suffering in the other person.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh
My life has been full of apologies. I’ve been on both the receiving and giving end of the good, the bad, and the ugly apology.
Just recently a dear friend who I hadn’t connected with in a long time reached out and asked if we could meet for coffee. I sort of backhandedly blew her off and told her I would try to meet her later that same day. I had already made plans to run with another friend, but I chose not to share this.
After my run, I invited my running buddy to coffee and ran into my other friend. It was awkward. We hung out and all had coffee together, but there was an uncomfortable vibe between us the entire time.
Later that day I texted my friend, apologized, and told her I should’ve been honest about my reason for rejecting her invitation. Yes, you read that correctly—I texted my apology! Owning our mistakes is hard, and I’m working on getting better in this area.
On the other hand, I’m learning there’s a difference between apologizing for a mistake and apologizing for being human.
Recently there has been a social media meme outlining the power of shifting our word choice from “I’m sorry” to “thank you.” For example, instead of saying “I’m sorry for being such a mess,” say “Thank you for loving me unconditionally.” This type of apology suggests that our word choice is powerful and that we can choose words that empower rather than degrade.
Apologies are hard.
By definition an apology is an acknowledgement of an offense, failure, or disappointment. Anytime we are faced with having to apologize we either must acknowledge our own offense or step into holding space for another person’s disappointment. In our culture, we aren’t taught to do either of those very well.
On the other hand, apologies can be incredibly powerful healing tool connecting us to our own human experience, as well as other people.
An apology gives us the opportunity to practice humility and step into vulnerability and out of shame. So, the question becomes: How can we master the art of the apology in an effort to heal ourselves, our relationships, and the global community? Below I offer simple, actionable ways we can embrace this art.
The “It’s Not Me, It’s You” Apology
No one wants to feel like they’ve been a schmuck, and as a result, we often try to turn the fault or blame back on to someone else so that we don’t feel the shame often associated with owning our mistake.
Mistakes and subsequent apologies are hallowed ground for so much learning, grace, and humility. When we shy away from these places, we stay stuck in our own pain and shame.
Recently I had an exchange with a friend after we had awkward conversation between us. My friend seemed upset and distant, but I didn’t know what had happened. After asking her what was up, she replied that yes, she was upset. She went on to explain what had happened to upset her and apologized for her bad behavior.
After hearing this I felt genuinely saddened about what she was feeling and began to understand why she had taken such a caustic tone with me.
Unfortunately, as quickly as she apologized she tossed it back onto me and said that it was my fault she had acted that way, and if it weren’t for me she wouldn’t have been so mean.
She used the “I’m sorry, but you…” apology style. Rather than create a space of mutual understanding and an opportunity for healing, she continued with the same caustic tone and pushed the responsibility for the situation back on to me. Naturally, I felt awful that, in her view, I was 100% responsible for her angst.
This posturing left very little room for any reconciliation without getting into a back and forth exchange of grievances. Not liking the options of taking full responsibility or continuing to engage in a ping-pong of blame, I thanked her for letting me know how she felt and moved on.
We are not required to engage in or accept a blame-based apology. We can simply, and in love, move on. On the other hand, if you find yourself using the “But, you… apology,” realize that you could be damaging a relationship by staying stuck in your own ego’s need to be blameless.
When an apology is followed by a “but” and an explanation it negates the apology and doesn’t feel genuine or as if the individual is invested in seeing the opportunity to resolve, Rather, it seems they’re trying to shun any responsibility they have in the situation.
Eliminate the Explanation
The “explanation apology” is similar to the “it’s you, not me apology,” but rather than shifting the blame to another person, we offer excuses or try to explain all the reasons our apology is good enough. It often comes from a place of feeling ashamed of our humanness.
For example, I think most of us can relate to saying things we don’t mean when we’ve been drinking. Many years ago, when my husband and I were just dating, we got into a booze-infused argument, and I called him a nasty name I typically reserve for my ex-husband. Even in my tipsy state I could see the hurt in his eyes. I felt so ashamed, but at the moment couldn’t bring myself to apologize.
The next day I apologized and let him know that’s not how I felt about him. It would have been easy to explain why I had said something hurtful by blaming the booze or a variety of other things that would take the spotlight off my own careless words. I decided instead to own my bad behavior, and it was humbling, but owning it planted the seed for a healthy relationship to grow.
Mistakes are part of the human condition. Noticing when we are defaulting to feelings of shame for our humanness by either excusing or avoiding saying sorry can help us grow into more compassionate people. It can become a beautiful opportunity to reclaim our right to be human and make slipups.
If you do feel compelled to add something to your apology, perhaps a statement that affirms the other person would be a kinder choice.
When It’s Not Necessary to Say Sorry
Earlier I mentioned the popular social media meme going around suggesting we trade our “sorry’s” for “thank you’s.” This enables us to shift from guilt to gratitude in situations where we’ve done nothing wrong.
I have been a yoga teacher for many years, and it’s industry practice to reach out to another teacher and ask them to sub your class. One time a fellow teacher called to ask if I could sub for her. Unfortunately, I wasn’t available, so I apologized and began listing off all the reasons I couldn’t help. I felt guilty and thought I needed to defend my answer.
In retrospect, I realize I could have simply said, “Thank you for thinking of me. I’m flattered! Unfortunately, I won’t be able to teach for you this time, but hopefully I’ll be able to next time!”
Noticing what you’re apologizing for and when is a beautiful way to bring mindfulness to our everyday conversations. It also helps us keep apologies for the things we do that genuinely require regret.
At the same time, it gives us permission to give ourselves a break. It can be easy to get in the habit of beating yourself up and apologizing for everything. Intentionally setting the tone of a situation to be one of grace and kindness can elevate the consciousness of the individuals and allow both parties a breath of relief in acknowledging the imperfect perfection of any moment.
I was having this discussion with the female inmates I teach yoga to once a week, and they recognized how empowering it felt not to own things that result in them immediately feeling dis-empowered, the victim, or bad person of a situation. They could see how insignificant apologies were keeping them oppressed.
Keep It Simple – I’m Sorry. Period.
When we find ourselves in the position where an apology is the best choice, there is no replacement for the two simple words: I’m sorry.
Stopping at these two simple words prevents us from coming from a place of pride and ego, and it gives the other person permission to simply feel whatever it is they are feeling without us trying to soothe it or fix it.
Instead of being shamed by apologies or letting your ego get in the way of an opportunity for growth, I encourage you to see these as sacred opportunities to embrace the human condition and help heal yourself and others.
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Let Go of Past Mistakes: 6 Steps To Forgiving Yourself
“At any given moment, you have the power to say: This is not how the story is going to end.” ~ Christine Mason Miller
Sometimes you do or say things you regret. If you’ve experienced this recently, you might be struggling to forgive yourself, especially if your actions hurt someone you love.
A few months ago, I had a falling out with a friend. It happened like most misunderstandings do: swiftly and unexpectedly. I barely had time to comprehend what was happening.
My friend was trying to convince me to join him in a business venture, which I politely tried to decline. After a while of us going back and forth, my patience was wearing thin, and he began to appear less like a friend and more like a pushy salesman.
He then made a comment that I interpreted as a personal insult. I immediately became angry and lashed out. I thought I was justified in my reaction, but upon reflection, I realized that I had misunderstood his words and rushed to judgment.
Even after a follow-up conversation, with my apologies and all, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had made a terrible mistake. I feared that our relationship would never be the same.
That episode in my life led me to think about the ways we get hung up on our personal failures. They can threaten to keep us stuck in the past and define who we are going forward.
My personal reflection and experience yielded the following seven steps to forgiving yourself:
1. Name what you have done.
Before you can forgive yourself, you must gain some clarity about what happened. Begin by writing down the details of the events and your own actions that contributed to the situation.
Resist the need to blame any other people or external circumstances, and focus only on yourself. You may experience intense vulnerability when you do this exercise. Engage this vulnerability by compassionately owning it rather than suppressing it.
In my own situation, I justified my actions by focusing on my friend’s uncharacteristically aggressive behavior. Once I was willing to focus on my own behavior, I could see more clearly that I had judged his words too quickly.
2. Ask for forgiveness.
Asking for forgiveness is not easy. Your willingness to approach a person you have hurt means you’re admitting you have done wrong and are sorry for it.
Avoid minimizing your responsibility by using phrases like, “I’m sorry if…” or, “I’m sorry but…” I knew that I needed to apologize to my friend and take full responsibility for my actions. I simply named the wrong I had done to him and asked for forgiveness.
3. Forgive yourself every time negative thoughts intrude.
Sometimes we struggle to forgive ourselves, even when we have been forgiven.
After my friend and I had resolved our situation, I continued to experience guilt and negative thoughts about my actions.
I eventually learned that self-forgiveness is not a one-time deal—it’s a gradual process. Every time self-loathing thoughts surfaced, I would take a deep breath and exhale all the negativity I was feeling. You can do some similar act of kindness toward yourself when negative thoughts emerge.
4. Show up and let yourself be seen.
This idea comes from Dr. Brené Brown, whose research on vulnerability and shame has helped many people gain the courage to show up for their lives rather than sit on the sidelines—or worse, hide in shame.
When facing painful personal mistakes, the temptation to shut down and disengage is strong.
I found myself avoiding interactions with my friend because I was afraid he would judge me or remind me of what happened in the past. Once I had the courage to show up, I quickly discovered that my fears were unfounded.
If you struggle with showing up, know that you have gained much wisdom that can help your future relationships thrive if you have the strength to show up and try again.
5. Be grateful for your mistakes.
It might seem strange to express gratitude for our mistakes, especially the embarrassing and painful ones. But think back to a time when you exercised poor judgment or did something you regretted. How has the experience changed you? Did it make you wiser, stronger, or more discerning?
I learned the dangers of having a quick temper and rushing to judgment. Now when I am upset, I try to give myself some time and space to reflect rather than react. I am thankful for the opportunity to grow in these ways.
And if you can learn to see your mistakes in such a light—as opportunities to grow—you can be grateful for them too.
6. Radically love all of who you are.
Joseph Campbell once said, “The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.” So be who you are, not who you used to be. Celebrate who you have become in spite of, or even because of, your past mistakes.
My own mistakes and flaws have helped me become a better person to my friend, and that will ultimately strengthen my friendships going forward.
So love all of who you are, including your past mistakes, and you’ll only grow stronger from them.
You Are Worthy of Forgiveness
These steps are not always easy to follow—especially during times when we have truly messed up. But we can recover from our mistakes, learn from them, forgive ourselves, and move on with our lives.
You are worthy of your own love and forgiveness. Believe it with every fiber of your being.
Commit to practicing these steps daily, even on those days when you’d rather not.
Resolve to forgive yourself. Resolve to free yourself of the past. Resolve to live in the present. And look toward the future with hope and optimism.
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The Power of Apologizing: Why Saying “Sorry” Is So Important
“Sincere apologies are for those that make them, not for those to whom they are made.” ~Greg LeMond
When I was growing up, every time I took my sister’s toy or called my brother names, my mother would grab me by the wrist and demanded that I offer an apology. What’s more, if the apology didn’t sound meaningful enough to her, I had to repeat it until my tone was genuine. An apology was the basic reaction to any mistake.
Now that I’m older, I see apologizing as more than just a household rule. My younger self didn’t understand the complexities of human pride and self-righteousness, but my older self does.
Now, I see family members refusing to talk to each other for years after an argument just because neither side wants to be the first to let go of their pride and “break down and apologize.” But who decided apologizing was a sign of weakness?
I think we’ve reached a day and age where showing emotional vulnerability can be viewed as a positive rather than a negative quality.
People are becoming more aware of ideas like empathy and sensitivity, and everywhere we are being encouraged to talk about our feelings, to seek help, and to connect with others. Gone are the days of keeping everything bottled up inside to suffer alone.
As we move forward in this time of self-knowledge and self-discovery, it’s vital to acquire the ability to recognize our own mistakes. Nobody is perfect, and we all will do something to hurt another person at some point in our lives. The difference, however, lies in acknowledging that we have done something wrong.
This was hard for me to grasp, because I was taught that an apology should be an automatic response.
It took me a long time to realize what it meant to say “I’m sorry” from the heart. Apologizing just for the sake of apologizing is meaningless. We cannot genuinely apologize if we can’t admit to ourselves that we made a mistake.
This is where humility comes in. Can we look at ourselves in the mirror and say that it was at least partly our fault? Can we take that responsibility?
Placing the blame on someone else is easy. Making excuses and skirting the subject is easy. Assuming the full weight of blame on our own shoulders, however, is very hard.
I learned this the hard way with a childhood friend of mine. As we grew older, we started becoming more competitive in the things we did together, and eventually the playful competition went a little too far.
It became a game of silently trying to prove who was better, and we ended up hurting each other over our pride.
We refused to apologize or even address what was going on because neither wanted to be the one to “give in.”
The tension kept growing, breaking apart our friendship. I wish I could go back now, because if I had taken responsibility for the mistakes I made, we probably could have resolved it easily and saved our friendship.
Instead, I let my pride take priority over my relationships with the people around me.
Learning to apologize is the first and most important step in the healing process. Not only does it show the recipient that you acknowledge their right to feel hurt, but it opens the way to forgiveness.
It seems so silly, really. I mean, it’s only two tiny words. How can something so small be so powerful?
Well, there have been various scientific studies on the power of apologizing, which have demonstrated that when the victim receives an apology from his offender, he develops empathy toward that person, which later develops more quickly into forgiveness.
This is due to the fact that when we receive an apology, we feel that our offender recognizes our pain and is willing to help us heal.
Timing is an important aspect to keep in mind, as well, because sometimes the other person might not be ready to accept your apology. Sometimes we need to allow time to heal the wounds a little bit before we come forward to say “I’m sorry.”
An apology cannot undo what has been done, but it can help ease the pain and tension of the aftermath. It gives hope for rebuilding, and puts value on the relationship rather than the individual’s pride.
Sometimes people don’t even realize the hurt they are creating around them by failing to take responsibility for their actions. Maybe it’s you, maybe it’s someone you know, but everyone knows someone who has suffered from this at some time.
Now is the time to make a change.
Often times those two simple words are worth more than a lifetime of excuses and explanations.
Choose the path of humility. Choose the path of healing. Choose love above pride. Choose to apologize.
Little girl apologizing image via Shutterstock
