I wasn’t raised by men that know the power of ‘I’m sorry’. I was raised to accept that people sometimes hurt us and that amends shouldn’t be expected. Instead I heard, “that’s just how they are”, so I didn’t know that people could change, and I worried about the quality of my character if I was unable to grow into the person I desired. The only apologies I saw others give was for the obvious, but I couldn’t understand how an apology (or lack of) was supposed to serve us without changed behavior. “I’m sorry” when it didn’t matter and silence when it did.
I wasn’t raised to understand ‘apology languages’ so I overused ‘I’m sorry’ my entire life. I OVER-apologized. I made these words my favorite words when they were all I wanted to hear. I grew up quicker and I started putting words onto paper… that turned into paragraphs… and all of these words still couldn’t create a bridge between me and the people I loved most.
Later, I went to therapy and I tried pouring my words out verbally, and I tried to make sense of why I wasn’t worth any of the words I wanted so desperately. So I developed better communication skills and I dove into therapy and I took the apology into my own hands and told myself the words I needed to hear.
I traced the curves of my body and placed my hand on my heart. I stepped into the bath and hugged my knees to my chest and I said the words ‘I’m sorry’ to every inch of me. I reminded myself that even when my heart breaks and I lose the living because I chose myself, that I still deserve all the love I so freely give to others. “Choose yourself, baby” I whispered. “Choose yourself”.