Sorry, I’m Not Sorry
The restaurant manager, with his gray tailored suit to match his gray hair, shrinking stature and face buried in wrinkles from his warm smile, tapped me on the shoulder as I came out of the restroom and said to me, “Promise me this. You'll stop saying sorry unless you do something absolutely terrible.”
I was taken aback by all of this, but I was drawn to his warmth, so I immediately threw a friendly smile on my face and said, “Absolutely.”
I think he could sense my politeness was overshadowing my sincerity, and that was confirmed when he followed up with, “I mean it. I can tell from our interactions tonight that you are intelligent and kind, but too focused on pleasing. Stop apologizing for being you.”
I felt both awkward and heavy, like I wanted this interaction to be over with ASAP, but also like God was tapping me on the shoulder and saying, “This is a message from me. Are you paying attention? Listen up!”
Friends, I can not tell you how much that short exchange has stuck with me. In this seemingly random moment I felt more known and seen by a stranger than by many people I have known for years or decades. In this mercy I sensed an an overwhelming presence of God.
While I am wired as an Enneagram 8 (referred to as the Challenger for those of you who haven't spent countless hours fascinated with this personality tool, like I have), the hospitality driven side of me desperately wants those around me to feel loved and genuinely known. Part of me advocates for myself and my kids like it’s my profession, and the other part of me wants to be seen as lovely, pleasant and easy to be with. I am wired for and I crave deep connection, partially a reaction to how little I felt known growing up. As a result, “I'm sorry” pops out of my mouth way too often. Someone bumps into me, and I say “I'm sorry”. I need to reschedule an appointment, “I'm sorry”. When I have to bring my kids with me to an appointment, “I'm sorry there are so many kids with me”. Someone holds the door for me and (I’m embarrassed to admit) sorry slips from my lips instead of “thank you”. I pick my kids up early from school and after I tell the receptionist the names of the students needing to be called, can you guess the next thing out of my mouth? “I’m sorry.”
Y’all. These are not situations or offenses that require a sorry. You forget your best friend’s birthday, you snap at your husband with sharp words, you raise your voice at your children, or you totally fell through on your commitment to bring 6 dozen homemade cookies to Boy Scouts (remind us why you volunteered for that? A problem for another time I suppose…). Now these are circumstances that deserve an apology.
Ironically, the situations I get myself into or choices I make that I really do need to say sorry for, like a big, ugly, I was really wrong kind of sorry; I often find it much harder than need be to find a sorry like that.
As a woman who wants to love people really well, I need to value myself enough to stop giving constant, unnecessary apologies, and value others enough to readily apologize when I have wronged them.
Pride is the real enemy I am fighting here. Pride tells me I will be more appreciated, I will look better if I am not an inconvenience to people. Stop getting in people’s way the Liar hisses. Pride tells me my actions were justified and I shouldn’t have to be the one that apologizes. The Liar convinces me that saying sorry in this moment would just be another confirmation of my lack of worth. Lies, Lies, Lies. I want to land on the side of truth, and I desperately want to teach my children what humility, valuing themselves and others properly, and apologizing according to Jesus’ example looks like. I have noticed they all have picked up this very unfortunate habit of mine, excessive unnecessary apologies. To their credit, they are much better than I at asking for forgiveness at appropriate times, although I really want to eradicate their knee jerk, meek “I’m Sorrys” that come from a superficial place.
Even as young as two years old, I have my kids apologizing for genuine offenses according to this rhythm:
1) I’m sorry
2) For (specifically name the offense)
3) Will you forgive me?
4) Bonus points if they can talk about what they plan to do better next time.
This is as hard for me is it is for them (possibly harder, darnit pride)! We are all a work in progress, but the next time I am lucky enough to find a stranger taping me on the shoulder with fantastic wisdom, I will skip the awkward and get right to the listening and learning.