Written by Tiane Davis
When I was younger, one of the hardest things for my brothers and me to learn was how to say “sorry.” We would get in fights and say mean things, and our mom would tell us that the right thing to do was apologize. We usually ended up offering half-hearted apologies that were far from genuine — head down, eyes on the floor, sometimes stubborn tears.
We always made fun of my brother for the way he said it. He would run up to someone, say “SORRY” as loud as he could, laugh in their face, and run off. My other brother would usually yell “CARTER!” as we watched him run away laughing.
Whether the apologies we gave each other back then were sincere or not, we learned how important it was to always make amends with the people we love. It might have felt like a joke to us sometimes, but we definitely got the message.
As we got older, apologies evolved into something that felt needed any time we faced conflict. Rather than an unnatural and forced action, they became something that felt required because we came to understand how important it was to take responsibility for our mistakes.
Rather than being a phrase to signify which of us had won and which of us had lost, “I’m sorry” became a phrase that signified togetherness.
In my short lifetime, the word “sorry” has developed into a word with dozens of different meanings attached.
I think of the pitiful one I might give after telling someone inconsequential but disappointing news:
“They were out of Dr. Pepper, so I had to get you Pepsi instead. Sorry.”
I think of the embarrassed one that I give when I accidentally leave the stove on in my house: “I’m sorry! I can’t believe I did this again! I really never learn.”
I think of the guilty one I give when I have to flake on a friend:
“I’m so sorry! I forgot I have something else going on at the same time. PLEASE, let’s get together another day soon.”
I think of the really sad one I give after I have hurt a person I love:
“I’m really sorry. I never want you to feel like I’m not on your side.”
I think of the sarcastic one I give when I feel defensive and am not sorry at all:
“SORR-y.”
I think of the one that’s just a hug: It says that I’m sorry while I’m receiving forgiveness at the same time.
I think of the one I give to express my sympathy to a friend who was hurt: the sorry I feel the need to say because the person who should have said it never did.
I think of the sorries that have probably lost their true meaning because I freely offer them over and over out of habit.
It can get too easy to give insincere apologies. Sometimes I do so almost out of routine, which shows that I probably repeat the same mistakes a lot or my sorries are no longer meaningful or both. I also catch myself saying “sorry” about things that are not my fault just because it is such an easy word to use to make myself feel better about a situation.
“Sorry” is a word that could be so powerful. It has the potential to show how much we care about the people around us. The more I say it as if it were a Band-Aid I could patch on an open wound, however, the more it feels like an empty word with empty promises — a cop out used to avoid a bigger problem.
A lot of humility comes with a sincere apology. Admitting that we did something wrong is really hard; the bigger the mistake, the harder it is to make an apology. Apologies come with a risk too because they are never a guarantee of forgiveness. A real apology puts us in a place of vulnerability with no promise of a mended relationship, which is scary but a real step toward taking responsibility for our actions.
I do not want to let my sorries become a habit or something I give without thought or meaning. While I work on lowering the amount of empty sorries I hand out in a day, I want to also try to stop repeating the same mistakes over and over. Caitlin, Sydney and Jada, the next time I leave the stove on…
