Sorry...

Apologizing has always been a complex issue for me. It’s not just about saying, “I’m sorry” and moving on—it’s tangled up in a lot of frustration and confusion. For most of my life, apologizing felt like a challenge I couldn’t quite master. But a few years ago, something shifted, and I’ve been on a journey to understand what changed and what I’ve learned along the way.

Growing up, I seemed to always be in trouble—whether for things I did, things I didn’t do, things I said, things I didn’t say, or even for the expressions on my face. Over time, it all started to feel like a twisted game where the rules were constantly changing just to mess with me. I began to believe people were making things up to control me or to ruin my day. It felt like the world was spinning out of control, and I was the only one who noticed.

It wasn’t until my early twenties that I started to realize something: maybe my actions, even if unintentional, were actually causing people to react the way they did. That was a hard realization to come to terms with. This is where apologizing became even more difficult for me. Back then, being told to apologize felt like being asked to admit guilt for something I didn’t think I did wrong. I couldn’t bring myself to say sorry unless I understood exactly why I was apologizing.

For me, apologizing felt like admitting I was guilty of something I didn’t do. I’d dig in my heels, ready to defend my side for hours, trying to explain that whatever happened wasn’t intentional and that I didn’t even know what the issue was. To me, saying “I’m sorry” felt like saying, “You caught me, I’m a terrible person,” and that just didn’t feel right. So, I resisted. A lot.

I rarely apologized because, honestly, I didn’t understand what I did wrong. And if I apologized without understanding, it felt like empty words—words that meant nothing because I might just do the same thing again without realizing it. Apologizing without understanding felt like speaking a language I didn’t know.

But then, something changed.

A few years ago, a friend gave me advice that completely shifted my perspective. They explained that an apology isn’t necessarily about admitting guilt—it’s about acknowledging that someone else was hurt, even if that wasn’t my intention. They compared it to accidentally stepping on someone’s foot. Even if I didn’t mean to, the other person is still in pain, and saying sorry is about acknowledging their pain, not about admitting I did it on purpose. That made sense to me in a way nothing else had before.

This realization was a turning point. It helped me see that apologizing is about recognizing the impact of my actions, even if I didn’t intend to cause harm. It’s like understanding that if I accidentally knocked someone down, I’d immediately apologize because the cause and effect were clear. But when I didn’t understand what offense I caused, apologizing seemed pointless.

I also began to realize that my insistence on fully understanding the “why” before apologizing was more about me than the person I’d hurt. It was about my need for clarity, not their need for acknowledgment. I had to admit that sometimes, understanding can come later. The first step is showing empathy and recognizing that the other person’s feelings are valid, even if I don’t fully get it yet.

I’m not a malicious person. Hurting others on purpose isn’t something I think about. So being accused of having bad intentions was incredibly confusing and painful. I didn’t apologize because I didn’t care or because I thought I was right. I didn’t apologize because I genuinely didn’t understand why I should.

But now, with this new perspective, I’ve found a balance. It’s still hard to say, “I’m sorry” if I don’t know why, but I now understand that acknowledging someone’s feelings is a step toward resolution, even if I don’t fully grasp the situation yet. I’ve learned to apologize first and seek to understand afterward, allowing the person to feel heard and valued in the process. And if I need more clarity, I’ve learned to ask for it later, when emotions aren’t running as high.

This shift hasn’t made apologizing easy, but it’s made it possible. And for me, that’s progress.