I'm sorry

grieved for the loss of something good

All subscribers will be receiving a narrated version of this essay, read by little ole’ me. At some point in the future, I will reserve the audio versions for paid subscribers as a small “thank you” for your support and encouragement. I’m also looking into other possibilities for us to connect and interact in more robust and meaningful ways. with love, Tara

One of the great casualties of our time has been the offering of a simple “I’m sorry”. Have you noticed? There is a dance, a little fancy footwork employed by the masses to help us avoid ever having to utter those two words. Away from the corporate and governmental newspeak, we commonly encounter “I’m sorry” as “I apologise” or “I meant to say…” and that’s if there’s any admission of wrongdoing at all. For the grand majority, there is simply no ability to acknowledge their bad behaviours or deeds. Instead, a hearty defence, followed up by an offensive diversion is the name of the game.

The issue of being able to accept culpability for our actions or words and to then go on to express regret has become a rarity. If someone can’t even hear that they have caused damage and then use the skills of self-reflection and critical thought to learn from their misdeeds, intentional or not, there is no utility in trying to convince them of the harm they’ve done. It won’t work. Convincing someone of something they don’t want to see never works. I think we see this trait a lot in extended families and old friendships. Patterns get set. People inadvertently, or purposely in some cases, misunderstand their positions in relationships. They come to think that because there is some familial relation, they have licence to interact in ways they wouldn’t dream of behaving with people outside of their familial sphere. Old friendships, with that same sense of permanence, can also carry that sense of entitlement. I am me and you accept that. You are you as I see you.

But, this is a case not of what others will or will not do. This is me, making my case to you, to bring back the simple and elegant words, “I’m sorry” in your relationships. There’s a running joke that us Canadians say “I’m sorry” for everything. It’s true. When we bump into each other in the grocery store we say “I’m sorry”. When we reach for something near someone else, we’re “sorry”. That’s kind of a hollow sorry, more of an “excuse me” politeness than anything else. I’m not talking about that.

What does it mean for me to say “I’m sorry” to another person? How does that feel different than saying “I apologise”? Well, try it. Go ahead, say it out loud. Do you notice the difference of resonance inside of you when you utter the words “sorry” vs. “apologise”? Those of you that have exercised that muscle, will probably feel pretty comfortable with looking another human being in the eye and saying, “I’m sorry”. For others, that can be a very frightening, vulnerable admission. “I apologise” seems like the same thing, but is it?

I pulled out my trusty, old 1934 dictionary to clarify.

Apology: “Something said or written in defense or justification of what appears to other to be wrong, or of what may be liable to disapprobation… also, endeavour to justify or excuse” and “An ackowledgment intended as an atonement for some improper of injurious remark or act, an admission to a wrong or discourtesy done him, accompanied by an expression of regret, as, an apology to a hostess for being late.” SYN: explanation, acknowledgment, justification, vindication.

Sorry: “Sore, grief, pain, causing sorrow or pain, painful, grievous. Grieved for the loss of some good, feeling sorrow, as caused, feeling regret, penitent, - now usually expressing moderate grief or affliction, but formerly often deeper feelings…” SYN: hurt, afflicted, mortified, vexed, chagrined, disappointed, regretful.

My word, that’s beautiful, “grieved for the loss of something good.”

See the difference? They don’t even share synonyms with one another. To be sorry holds in it an emotion of sadness, a personal and intimate grief for our folly. Saying “I’m sorry” is an offering of humility to another and we are just not very good at that. “I’m sorry” is, of course, an apology. But is “I apologise” the same? Does it carry the weight of sorrow and grief as “sorry” does? If I have apologised for my wrongdoing, I have expressed my sorrow. I have said or used the words, “I am sorry”.

Our culture trains us to be confident and forceful in our convictions. To accept that we have been wrong, that we have harmed another in some way, is antithetical, or so we think, to the capable and worthy person we are. This comes from a place of competition and insecurity. If I take ownership of my wrongdoing and express that to another, there is this twisted idea that this somehow elevates the other over us. I did wrong, they didn’t and I’m saying so out loud. I am putting myself at the mercy of them, giving them power over me, if I say “I’m sorry”. So people, rarely having developed past the twelve year old inside them, lash out and defend instead, offering up the love and vibrancy of their relationships at the altar of false righteousness. So many skeletons of relationships crumbling there.

The thing that so many of us seem to miss is that saying the words, “I’m sorry” is not a weak, prostration of our soft underbellies. It is courageous and connecting in a way that ease and rightness can never be. To be able to see the hurt we have caused and to go inward and identify carelessness within is evidence of our empathy and devotion. My humility for your pain. My regret for actions I am responsible for. My sorrow for behaviour that did not meet the expectation I have for myself, that my God has for me. And there it is. Saying “I’m sorry” and meaning it is bigger than patching a rift. It is a realignment, a “getting right” with our higher selves and God. It has nothing to do with who’s right and who’s wrong. And if the other person sees it that way, that’s okay too. We do not control outcomes, we control our actions and that’s it.

My husband has always been so generous with his apologies. He has taught me so much in our relationship. One of the most profound has been witnessing how his ability to accept his failings with grace and humility elevates him in the eyes and affections of others. He is, by all outward measure, a man of great success with loads of accolades and awards he could impress you with. I love all those things about him, but it is because he chooses to leave all those outward successes in their rightful place in the pursuit of a deep and meaningful relationship, that I respect him all the more. To sidestep ego, when it is so easily available, in exchange for the depth that humility can bring, is the glue of love.

That man o’ mine has shown me, by his strong example, that I will not dilute myself by owning my wrongs. Instead, I reap the benefits of a grace that blind lashing-out never delivers. There is a closeness and a softness that comes when we align ourselves with the bigger virtues available to us. Our children, too, have been raised to self reflect on their missteps and to take ownership of them. The words “I’m sorry” come naturally to them. I didn’t grow up hearing those words. And while it’s not exactly the words themselves that ended them, we have had familial and friend relationships in our lives that had to be ended because the extension of humility, ability to reflect, and desire for connection were always trumped by their ego and being right. In such a power dynamic, and it is a power dynamic over a relationship, someone must constantly concede to the other. No interconnected ‘give and take’ or mutual respect. It just doesn’t work. Not long term. Those are the relationships that drain us. They stagnate in the past with no hope of expansion and growth.

I was recently at a gathering where a woman, who identified herself as a social worker, was telling everyone in the room that we should “all just stop saying I’m sorry”. She explained, “Sorry is such a negative dynamic. Turn it into a positive interaction by just switching out ‘I’m sorry’ with ‘thank you’. Instead of saying ‘I’m sorry I used such harsh words with you’, say, ‘thank you for helping me to grow’. Instead of saying ‘I’m sorry I was late’ say ‘thank you for waiting’.”

A relationship between her and I could never last.

Thanking someone for your follies? They had no choice in the matter.

The “positivity” movement leaves me cold. Such a saccharine coating on a grocery store cake. It doesn’t mean authentic positivity is in anyway wrong. It’s the idea that keeping ourselves on that outside layer, in the sun and Disney-fied chirping birds, keeps that dastardly shadow at bay. But the shadow is us. The gifts are in the shadow. Why is the authentic offering of humility and the acceptance of something we did that caused someone else some grief considered to be “negative”? We have come to equate the hard work of our lives, the very stuff that brings us meaning and genuine closeness with others, as “heavy” or “negative”. Keep it light! Sparkle! Show the world how to be a happy, big-eyed bird, flitting to and fro in unbridled enthusiasm. chirp. chirp.

See the level of narcissism in that “thank you instead of I’m sorry” approach?. Authentic apologies pull us out of ourselves, they ask something of us.  It doesn’t feel great to take responsibility for something that caused someone else discomfort or pain. Not at first. The ego entices us with its promise of rightness. Feels pretty good in that place, but it’s always short-lived. And there’s a high cost to pay.

The inability to acknowledge and take responsibility for ourselves, to stand hat-in-hand with the offering of genuine regret over something that didn’t meet our standards for ourselves, that hurt or caused inconvenience for another, brings a level of closeness between those two people. It takes a dirty rogue to be offered the softness of “I’m sorry” and use it as a rung on their climb to righteousness utopia. There are people like that. That’s okay, too. Your apology is for bigger reasons than their reaction. I have apologised to some lowly scoundrels in my life. Not because I needed their forgiveness, but because I needed mine and the universes and my God’s. The re-alignment of self and spirit I mentioned earlier.

But the vast majority of people, your loves and those open to love, will handle your offering of regret with care. If they don’t, it’s a good vetting process. But most will. They can hold empathy for the vulnerability you are sharing. They can recognise the effort you are willing to make, the stretch from self to ‘us’, connection vs. excuse. That is a gift of the truest kind. Our union over my rightness.

“I’m sorry” as gatekeeper to deeper connection.