Say Sorry. It’s for Your Benefit
Makari | The Notebooks: From Her Journal — What Does an “I’m Sorry” Buy You — Even When It’s Fake?
I’ve always avoided saying “I’m sorry.”
No, it’s not because I’m prideful or arrogant. Though, to be fair, I’m not saying I’m not. I just always found other people’s apologies annoying. When someone tells me they’re sorry, I think: What am I supposed to do with your sorry? It doesn’t fix anything. It often feels like an awkward pass of guilt I have no use for. I never wanted to inflict that on anyone else. So when I mess up, I prefer to just fix it. Do better. Keep the sorry to myself.
The truth is, I never want to hurt anyone. So yes, I do feel sorry when I realize someone feels hurt by me. I just didn’t think sharing that feeling would help anyone.
Lately I’ve been trying something new: listening to people without making it about me. And in doing that, I’ve stumbled on how much people love to receive another’s words of sorrow.
For example:
I was fighting with Bob over email again. It’s a habit of ours. We just can’t help it. Every contact turns into a battle of wits. Fun, in a stressful and annoying way.
In our latest round, I sent an email I thought was fair and reasonable. But he got angry. I stood my ground. He called me disrespectful. So I did what any self-respecting witty opponent would do.
I sarcastically apologized.
Then I rewrote my original message with absurdly formal, overly polite phrasing—just to be funny. Come forth, inner comic, I thought. Let’s have some fun with Bob.
His reply came quickly.
You could feel his enthusiasm radiating through the text.
"Apology accepted, Paula."
He wrote a response that struck me as thoughtful and detailed. Probably spent more time writing it than I did crafting my fake apology.
It wasn’t just that he calmed down when I apologized. He seemed… energized. Like my little show of contrition fed something in him.
The strange part?
I didn’t feel sorry. I was just trying to be funny.
But seeing the positive effect my apology seemed to have on him made me feel… better. I can’t explain it, but the need to be sarcastic, funny, or defensive just evaporated.
That’s interesting, I thought. There’s a lesson here.
Say sorry. It’s for your benefit.
A few days later, I made a real mistake.
A dear employee called me. There was an error on her paycheck. I looked it up—she was right. I felt so bad. So very bad.
There’s something about messing with someone’s money, even by accident, that makes you feel about two inches tall.
My usual move would have been to fix it fast, confirm it was fixed, and then… sit in my guilt until it faded. But this time, I decided to share that feeling with my victim instead of hoarding it.
"…I am so, so sorry."
It was true. I was sorry.
And as soon as I said it, I started to feel relief.
When she replied, "Hi Paula, it’s okay. No worries. I appreciate the swift response," I felt the same strange thing I’d felt with Bob. That ease.
What the heck is that?
I think I’ll leave that question for the shrinks.
From now on, though, I’ll say sorry. Especially when I mean it.
Wait. Haven’t you seen how apologies are sometimes used as weapons against the apologizer?
Shut up. Can’t I bask in this moment for a second?
Okay, fine. Maybe I won’t say sorry every single time. But still… I wonder how I’ll respond the next time someone tells me, “I’m sorry.”
This post is part of The Notebooks — a living series of reflections, drafts, and journaled thoughts from behind the work. ✍️
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