Women, we really have to stop saying “I’m sorry” all the time. Let me explain why. Story time . . .

Many years ago, when I was in my late teens, I dated a guy named Michael.

Michael was the sort of guy that set hearts aflutter – or maybe that was just me. He had big white teeth that belonged in a toothpaste commercial, a charming and disarming smile that he wielded like his secret weapon, a swagger that made me weak in the knees, and dimples so deep I could almost swim in them. Yeah, I was infatuated beyond control with him. I would do practically anything for that man – all he had to do was ask.

My car became his car. “Baby, let me hold a few dollars?” he would ask, and I’d reply, “Sure,” before he’d even finished the question. His home – or should I say his grandma’s home – became my second home. Ahhhh yes, his grandma. Goodness gracious, that woman terrified me. She was never overtly mean to me, but it was the way she looked at me, the way she regarded me with those brown eyes gone hazy blue with age, the way she huffed just a little bit and crossed her arms over her ample bosom whenever I entered the room.

Back then, I was too foolish and wrapped up in what I thought was love to recognize my offense for what it was: locking myself away in her grandson’s room for hours on end doing goodness knows what. But Michael and I – we knew.

Michael was great, until he wasn’t so great.

As a young girl on the cusp of womanhood, on a scale of 1 to 100, my confidence hovered somewhere around -28. I couldn’t understand why someone like him – handsome, charming, and a phenomenal kisser – would want to be with a girl like me – unpretty, skinny, and too loud at all the wrong times. I felt like the luckiest girl on the planet to have a boyfriend like him.

Michael fed the beast of my low self-esteem. He had a way of putting me down that, in my naivete, I thought was kind of cute, adorable, endearing. “He only does it because he cares,” I explained it away. That’s part of the problem with being so young and in love: we’re stupid. At least I was.

For all his faults (and looking back on it, in the absence of puppy love, he had so many), Michael taught me one thing about life that still lingers with me today, and he did it in a way that rubbed a bit of the luster of our relationship away every time he made mention of it.

“I’m sorry,” I would say for whatever invisible infraction it was that made me feel I needed to seek penance.

I can still hear the smooth, silky tone of his voice and see the glint in his eye as he cruelly used his words to cut me down to size while flashing his trademark megawatt grin at me without missing a beat.

“I know you are . . . now apologize.”

Wrapped in my cocoon of love, I didn’t realize at the time that he was lashing out at me, insulting me over and over again. He may as well have been saying, “Yeah, Valerie, you are sorry. You’re a sorry excuse for a human. You’re a sorry excuse for a female. You’re pitiful. You have no place in my life, but I’m keeping you around just for shits and giggles and sex and your damn car.”

Can you imagine going to someone, laying your heart bare and saying, “I’m sorry,” thinking that it was your way of offering an olive branch, smoothing over a rough patch or being the bigger person, only to have, “I know you are, now apologize,” spat out at you?

As strange as it sounds, Michael was onto something. Over the years, I’ve thought about the many times he said those words to me, and they’ve stuck with me. Because of his callousness, I learned to associate “I’m sorry” with being good-for-nothing, pathetic, or insignificant.

Stereotypically, women seem to have a compulsion for saying “I’m sorry” a lot, but our reasons are varied. For some, it’s a people pleasing mindset. For others, it’s a fear of not being liked. Still for others, it’s part of an internalized passive mindset. And for many women, they may simply be meaningless filler words. And don’t get me wrong – it’s not just about saying “I’m sorry” in our personal lives. It extends to every part of our life – at home, in social situations, and especially at work.

I believe it’s empowering to raise yourself up and apologize when you’ve actually done something deemed wrong. And, in some cases, it fits — you don’t have to stop saying “I’m sorry.” But when you do, to have your words so cruelly construed as a false testament to who you are as a person is the antithesis of your intent. It’s manipulative. It’s indifferent. It’s contemptible.

It’s Michael. stop saying I’m sorry

I am not ‘sorry,’ and by that I mean I am not a ‘sorry’ person. I know the meaning of remorse, contrition, guilt-ridden. I will apologize when the situation warrants. And like me, you too can stop saying “I’m sorry.”

Today, I still sometimes catch myself saying “I’m sorry.” It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. To a large extent, I have Michael to thank for that.

I want you to know I have no problem apologizing. I examine the direction of my moral compass, my empathy for others, my actions. When you’re wrong, it shouldn’t be difficult to apologize. But I won’t say I’m sorry . . . at least I’m trying not to say that so much. And you shouldn’t either.

Did I offend you? I apologize.
Did my actions hurt you in some way? I apologize.
Does my very presence somehow make you uncomfortable? Well, for that I won’t apologize. Deal with it.

Still, I’m free to apologize. And although every now and again it may slip from my parted lips, don’t expect to hear me say, “I’m sorry.” Instead, keep your ears open for a true apology. In the meantime, stop saying “I’m sorry.”

As for Michael, I haven’t spoken to or seen him in decades. So much of my lack of awareness and confidence was erased over the years and that journey has led me to the woman I am today. I’m not perfect, but I like who I am. I like who I’ve become. Hell, I love, respect and honor the woman that I’ve become, and if I’m being honest, I think I’m a pretty great person. I won’t make any assumptions about the life that he’s living now. The choices from our past come back to either haunt us or bless us in the present. I wish him well. And for that, I won’t apologize.

What are your thoughts on saying, “I’m sorry” – do those three words have an impact on your life? Have you given any thought to stop saying “I’m sorry”?